#and I simply am too dense to comprehend it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

commander-ledi · 10 months

Text

G&G guide for people who are as dense as me, and just dont get it

this guide will not require you to understand the game at all or why it works. only thing this guide expects from you is basic number counting, and for the actual solving parts you only need to count to 7 at worst.

basically this method relies entirely on just counting tiles of specific color in three specific rows, and applying one of three solutions based on what number it was.

notice that this guide is for hard mode only, and will not work for other difficulty levels.

Let's get started

first off, this guide may seem at first little overwhelming with the amount of text. this is only to explain the steps as clearly as possible. just read instructions carefully, and follow the steps. do not worry about the text below until you are told to move to the next row.

you will start from top, and progress down there, one row at time, from left to right.

in my examples, i will side with shadow, so keep this in mind if you prefer light to win.

in this guide, i will refer the color you have chosen as winner as "correctly colored tiles", and the opposing side as "incorrectly colored tiles".

here i have labeled each horizontal row with numbers.

this is purely so that it will be easier for you to keep track on what i am talking about. so for example if i say "row 4", i will be talking about the middle row.

if you ever find yourself lost about which row you are on, you can use this image as reference to get yourself back on track.

Next...

choose which side you want to win. it does not matter which you choose. you can change it later, but learning will be easier if you stick with one color.

if you struggle even little too much comprehending this guide's images, i recommend that you choose shadow, because that is what i am using in example images in my guide. following guide may be easier this way.

after you have chosen a side...

ROWS 1-3:

this is essentially "regular solving", that you will be doing whenever you are not told to do something else. also this is where you should return if you ever mess up in any part of this guide, or get otherwise lost.

now what you need to do, is to address the tiles in the order order indicated above. in other words you will be taking a look at the tiles from left to right, top to bottom, one row at time.

to "address" a tile, see what color it is.

if it's the color you have chosen to win, simply move to the next tile in the order indicated above

if it's other color, click the tile that is located bottom right from it (show in image below)

in this example image the light tile is the "wrong" color, and red indicates where you need to click to remove it.

you do not need to worry what any other tile around it looks like, you only need to focus to the tile you are currently addressing. also there will sometimes be lots of weird tile flipping going on below, but do not worry about it.

so to recap, look at each tile in order, and if it's "wrong" color, click the tile located bottom right from it.

when you have managed to ensure that all 15 tiles in rows 1, 2 and 3 are all "correct" color, move to look at the next row

ROW 4 (universal solution 1)

this is the middle row. this is the first solution pattern you need to know, and easiest of the three. here, all you have to do is to count the "incorrectly" colored tiles in the middle row.

if the number is even (2, 4 or 6), solve it in the same way you solved rows 1-3

if there is no incorrectly colored tiles, move to next row

if the number is odd (1, 3, 5 or 7), click all of the tiles in the middle row from left to right in order.

after doing this, if you are left with tiles, solve it as you solved the rows 1-3. if there is none left, move to next row.

ROW 5 (universal solution 2)

this one is where things will get little more complicated, but no need to worry. if you ever mess up, just return to the start of this guide, and follow it as if nothing happened.

now, all you have to do is to count the "incorrectly" colored tiles in the row 5.

if the number is even (2, 4 or 6), solve it as you solved the rows 1-3

if there is no incorrectly colored tiles, move to next row

if the number is odd (1, 3, or 5), click the tiles as shown in this image below, in the order of the numbers:

this may look little confusing at first, so keep this image open next to you. remember that if you mess up, just return to the start of the guide. following the standard solving process will fix any mistake you make.

after you have done this, if you are left with tiles to row 5, solve it the way you solved rows 1-3. when the row 5 is clean, move to the next row.

if you are unable to clear the row, and you still have odd number of tiles in there, repeat this part.

ROW 6 (universal solution 3)

again, all you have to do is to count the "incorrectly" colored tiles in this row.

if the number is even (2 or 4), solve it as you solved rows 1-3

if the number is odd (1, 3 or 5), click the tiles as shown in this image:

same deal as with the image above.

after completing this, click away all remaining tiles in the same way you solved rows 1-3.

and that's it. you solved the puzzle.

however, if you are left with any tiles after this, you may have clicked incorrect tile at some point. to fix this, check which row it is, and apply this guide's instructions for that specific row.

So... what now?

first, your goal is to keep repeating the process with this guide until you have got comfortable enough with the solving process, and you no longer need the text parts of the guide.

next, your goal is to start memorizing the three universal solutions. i have included below an image that has all three of them in one image for your convenience.

once you have memorized the three solutions, you should be able to cap the fairgrounds treasure limit much quicker than with any other game available.

#flight rising tag #flight rising

12 notes · View notes

thearchivistsjournal · 2 years

Text

Day 75,

It was dark when we woke up this morning. Woke up to Maiko’s shouting and a great deal of squawking. We were now due west of Cloud Tower instead of South and were in its morning shadow. Beyond that, we’re high enough now that the air’s gotten thin enough to notice and the temperature’s legitimately cold. Compared to what we’re all used to anyway. As such, while every night on this trip at least a couple of chickens had huddled next to Maiko, it looked to be the island’s entire population that had surrounded her last night.

Dealing with the cold ourselves, Maiko actually put a shirt and pants on voluntarily while the rest of us have put on those cloaks and wrapped them around ourselves. She’s still the only one I haven’t caught shivering though, myself included. Meanwhile, the chickens have ceased their usual running around and huddled together in one dense circle of feathers in the spot that Maiko vacated. I wonder if they mourn her absence.

Mild discomfort aside, the view is fantastic, if a little vertigo inducing. We felt the island pivot again last night, so we all spent the morning down at the arch waiting to see if it would try docking with Cloud Tower. Looking down and out I was able to see the entirety of the Village’s island for the first time, as well as many of the surrounding islands. High as we were, I still couldn’t see that blank white edge of the world Pat told me about, only more islands and ocean spreading out to the horizon. Then again, I may just be overestimating how much elevation affects horizon distance. That said, the islands did look to get both larger and further apart as they got away from the Village.

And then of course there’s Cloud Tower itself. To call it breathtaking up close doesn’t do it justice. As mind-bending as its height is, its width is enough to swallow the Village multiple times over on a single floor. Looking its direction as we drew ever closer, it was hard to see anything else. If you focused your vision right on its center, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine for a moment that you were indoors staring at a wall of an impossibly large room rather than outside gazing upon the exterior of an equally impossibly large structure. And even as high as we were (and in the distance I could see wispy traces of cloud that seemed not too far removed from our own altitude), we still couldn’t make out anything resembling a top. Indeed, if anything this close up, if one gazed skyward it almost seemed to lean in towards you as it reached into space, its perfect linearity in paradoxical defiance of eyes accustomed to the curvature of the earth. Or perhaps I’m simply hallucinating as I try to comprehend its scale.

One additional point of disorientation for the morning. Since I’ve been in this place, and for the others’ whole lives, Cloud Tower’s been a marker of North, but now, as I mentioned, it was our East, and soon, it would be South.

As noon approached we passed out of Cloud Tower’s shadow and were officially north of what I am increasingly certain is the marker of this world’s equator. This granted us a prime seat for the spectacle of that shadow that had seemingly stretched to the western horizon rapidly shrinking to nearly nothing at the Tower’s base.

Looking down at the water nearly distracted us from what was happening up at our level. I think we were directly north of Cloud Tower by then and near enough that we could hardly see anything else if we looked south. Anything else that is, except for the other floating island now between us and the Tower that had been spiraling up from the east.

That other island was maybe twice the size of the one we ride now and was a scarce fifty feet away from us when we felt the slight inertial bump as we slowed to a stop level with it, the arch we stood under directly aligned with one on that other island. And extended out from that matching arch was the crumbled stump of a bridge or pier constructed of that same white stone. I can only imagine that in some bygone age it would have connected these two islands and we could have stepped across to ride it… where exactly?

After a time the islands began to move again, ours going to the west and south in a mirror of this morning’s journey and the other continuing its upward spiral around the Tower to the west. Will it continue circling around the Tower, climbing ever higher? How high? Surely not to the top, or else anything on it would surely die and it was not without vegetation.

Little else has gotten done today. The thin air meant we kept winding up winded as we tried cleaning the house, and besides, I think we were all too distracted by Cloud Tower’s proximity, to the point where we hardly even spoke much. Lin and Cass seemed put on edge by it although they couldn’t quite articulate why. Meanwhile, Maiko and I kept catching ourselves staring at it, focus on whatever we’d been doing before lost. Even writing this entry took longer than usual as my eyes kept getting drawn up off the page.

Thinking about that other island, I can’t help but wonder, is that where Priscilla and her husband ended up? Given her fascination, possibly even obsession, with the floating islands, that one seen so regularly but always out of reach must have been maddening. Did she try some scheme to cross that gap and fall? Or perhaps become stranded on the other side? Or maybe in her day the bridge was still intact and she used that other island to access Cloud Tower and disappear into its heights as other outsiders have?

*******

Maiko just asked Lin if she could share her tent tonight. Cited the cold and the chickens as reasons. And those probably really were the reasons but Lin still got terrifically flustered. It’d almost be cute if I weren’t worried about the two of them accidentally hurting each other. Emotionally speaking. I wonder which will happen first, Maiko catching on or Lin saying something?

<==Previous Next==>

0 notes

starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hi bb congrats on 3k followers 🥺 you deserve it!! How about a smutty/angst blurb with nat, bucky, and reader being in a relationship and right now it’s going bad because something(idk what could happen it’s up to you) happened leaving bucky and nat at odds with reader trying to figure out how to get them to love each other again

Also you aren’t dumb 😡 it was an honest mistake bub

𝐼𝑁𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐼𝐷𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

Summary: based on the request

Pairing: BuckyNat x reader

Warnings: 18+, polyamory, angst, arguing, swearing, blame, smut, threesome, oral (male -> female & female -> female), face sitting, fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, p in v sex, cum eating, talking of death

Word Count: 4617

Masterlist Link

Caught in the crossfire yet again, a worry condoned your face into a suitable expression; one of agony as you listened to the pair of your beloveds argue in your shared home. Their raised voices made it sound as though you were entrapped in a war zone, the attacks were consistent, and adjacently brutal, as they passed through your ears, succumbing terror to your being as you feared of what was to be of the three of you. The idea of such an ending was expected, all had been good, up until a few weeks back, coming home to one another had been a haven, now for them it were a dragging chore. Once, they had valued one another’s presence, hugging you in the warm embrace of peacefulness, it had been somewhat of a dream. Despite all the words and judgemental thoughts that you were shunned with in public, nothing became a barrier in the triangular relationship that you were involved in. It wasn’t a flaw in the mechanical works of your emotions to break you apart, it was simply normal for you to endure, but this, their constant screeching at one another had not been.

Glass infrastructure; a vase plummeting against the wall made you jump, shocked by the violence that they were presenting in the household. That vase had been a housewarming gift from Steve, whom seemed to be the centre of their problem. Bucky was angry with Natasha for her constant flirting with his best friend, he wasn’t appreciative of how often, even when you were all tucked up in your king sized bed, that she would be on her phone, texting the blonde for hours on end, making the man on one side of you grunt at the woman on your other. Nat scoffed at Bucky’s derelict behaviour, crossing her arms over her chest as she passed judgement onto his destructive action. “That was such a necessary thing for you to do Barnes, if I were you, I’d clean it up before your ratty little cat steps on a shard.” Alpine was seated on your lap, nuzzling his pink nose into your stomach as though he were trying to escape away from the midst of the argument and the brief mention that he was given. Lightly, you stroked comfortingly over his soft white ears, imagining that would mute the sound out from passing through them.

“You are such a bitch Natalia!” He knew that she didn’t like to be called that, a scowl frustratedly pulled at her face, as her emerald eyes pointed a squint in his direction. “Why do you have to be like this, a pathetic whore for attention from any man or woman that gives you the time of day? Steve didn’t ask for you to constantly fondle his arms at Tony’s parties, he tells me everything. Like how you have an inclination to flirt with him and offer to go away with him on a fucking road trip. All these secrets are mounting up, and I am getting sick of it. Why can’t you be more like y/n?” His voice sincerely cracked, making your eyes widen from the mention that stringed you into their serious and painful bickering. That was certainly the wrong thing for him to have said, Nat took a step of disbelief back, frowning at him as he kicked the pieces of broken porcelain about with his foot. Tears began to build up in Natasha’s eyes, making you recoil with Alpine in your arms, and stand, carrying the little fella out of the room as you entered the shared bedroom and slammed the door shut.

To topple the wavering current that was overflowing the house like the events of a tsunami, you swiftly locked the door from the inside, a reassurance that they could not enter and that you’d be left alone, and hopefully in a somewhat surrounding of peace, even if that be for the limit of a few minutes. Bucky huffed, gripping his scruff in the palm of his hand as he shook his head at Natasha, tensing his nostrils as he glared at her. “Now look what you did.” He blamed her, though if he were to comprehend an accurate fault, the dismal accountability of all things that had urged you to leave and trap yourself away with the precious feline was a balance on both of their parts. At his childish and metaphorical finger pointing, Natalia as he had called her, crossed her arms over her chest, taking a few steps back as she were ridiculed by the circumstances that he proposed upon her. “It’s so rich of you to cluster a web as disgraceful as this, Black Widow, it is clear that you were trained in the red room, a habitat for the sinners that deter the prospect of having serum running through their obsolete veins.”

The condemned usage of her heroic title belittled her, though she remained standing strong against one of her lovers, whilst the other, which was informally you, were cloaked away in the dense atmosphere that was once filled with the notion and ambience of intimacy and endearment, but was now stifling under the thumb of hoisted reverence. Natasha knew, and was concerned for your well being, aware that you’d be tearing profusely up at all of which you had witnessed; it was no pretty sight, you had for a long time evened out the ground for her and Bucky, but it seemed that your attempts at validation were no longer enough. They were falling out of love, leaving you in the middle of their poisonous and collapsing feud, of which made you substantially torn between both counterparts. Nat opted for biting her lip, and screwing her fists into balls of restraint, as she whipped her back into Bucky’s sight, and headed towards the master bedroom, rapping her knuckles against the door, halting your movements of running your fingers through Alpine’s snowy locks.

Each time you combed your hand through his soft coat, small strands slid from the outer layer of his shell, coating your leggings in small follicles that promptly stood out. It was a coping mechanism for the ravenous banging that obstructed the other side of the door; it was driving you mad, and admittedly it’d be a lie if you were to say that you weren’t tempted to unlock your barrier of security, but you had to remain strong and stand your ground against their unchivalrous bullshit, that was until they had the means to sort their transgressive mess out on their own. You had no intent on being pulled in by the strings, being controlled and manipulated like a puppet, dangling from the hands of an opposing man and woman whom were supposed to adore one another as much as they did you. Alpine’s staring was getting too much, it was as though he were judging you with his moonstone blue eyes for your ignorance of every singe thing outside of the room. Bucky stepped behind Natasha, his demeanour infuriating her all the same, but she continued to hold her ground steady, adamant to not step down from her position.

“If she doesn’t want to see me, then you’re definitely not going to sway her judgement and conception of opening the door.” Bucky squinted at her, taking offence from her words, without so much of an ounce of concern, pushing her out of the way, and tapping his scarred knuckles against the door, earning a similar lack of response, causing Nat to become smug with his deflation of confidence. Just hearing them bicker was driving you mad; Alpine, though considered to be formally owned by Bucky, one of the lovers whose words were torturing you, was the only source of comfort that you were reviling in. You hugged him to your chest, stroking the side of your face alongside the surface of his coat, as you tried to compel regents of coaxed calmness. They were toxic for one another, as had recently been revealed, but they still strived towards one of their selfish desires; and that was you. No longer did they have a hook line and sinker to reel you in, you were standing your turf as you awaited for their insistent bickering failed to cease.

“Y/n, doll, open the door.” Bucky made his attempt, speaking through the barrier and still not gaining a response from you. It was moulding his voice into a muffle as he tried again, but groaned simultaneously. To say Natasha was not impressed with his failure at getting through to you came as no surprise to her, she couldn’t quite blame you fit not wanting to talk or respond to him; she wasn’t keen on that entailment either. And it was definitely because she was majorly pissed at him, he had gotten so far up his own ass and it was irritating. He was feeling severe pity for himself, and whilst it was sometimes understandable why he was feeling so, it was not fair for him to take thus emotional charge out on Natasha. But the treatment went both ways, she was picking at him on purpose, trying to irritate him to the point where he would feel invalidated, and that she was the target of his cold brashness. You couldn’t quite your finger on why it spurred into such a terrible environment to inhabit in, however to your own dismay, it had, and it now basically mirrored hell with the torture that you endured through your cowering ears.

“Y/n honey, can you please open the door for me?” Natasha’s voice came across as sweet and collected, and could deceive anyone whom didn’t know the problematic endorsement into thinking that there was nothing wrong out in the hallway. But you knew, far too well for your own liking that that the pair of them were struggling to feel an ounce of remorse for one another, let alone love, which left that as a far fetch in their pessimistic eye lines. They loved you, and only you, congregating your three person relationship into nothing more than an accepted love triangle, and they seemed to be temporarily stable with it (if that is how it could be recorded), however, you were anything but pleased with the end result. You had tried to help make things work between the pair, but everything that yo put into action only appeared to drive a deeper wedge in the middle of them, and make a piece off them crack and wasn’t you to themselves, greedily so.

“Yeah, cause she’d sure open it for just you. I’m the golden ticket here, we all know she prefers new, and for good reason. At least every time that she wants to see me, I’m not busy with work or kissing Fury’s ass because I have a constant fear of having my intentions misinterpreted for being pardoned after all the crimes that I have committed. Half thee time you’re not even around, I’m sure she thinks that you go out of your way to avoid her, and even I don’t appreciate that fact. That’s why she clings onto me like I’m her last hope, and the reason as to why she wants us to move closer to the Wilsons; so she’s not as lonely as she currently is. I bought a cat because i knew that she is by herself half the time, what’d you do, install cameras so you can ensure she’s safe? Safe isn’t the word for that if you’re going to make sure that she’s watched in her own home, she waned time away from the compound after everything that we have been through,yet you still make her feel like its following her to eve bleak corner of this home.”

“More like you’re the golden ass here because that’s all you’ve been since Steve decided to give up the shield and pass it to Sam. Anyone’d think that you’re jealous Barnes, and that you want to be Captain America. Spoiler alert; no matter what title that you frame yourself by, or decide who you are that day, you will never carry that shield or don the helmet of true patriarchy, you don’t know how this day and age works. You will never lose the looks from people that you have stolen from, to some of them, the White Wolf is just a pathetic charade, in their eyes, you will always be the Winter Soldier.” Her words were like venom, causing discourse that diverged through the household, splitting the members apart and diminishing their morals. Though you still held onto your own strong, despite their perpendicular quarrels that formed enemy lines against ione anther. You were the white flag, wishing to prohibit a truce for the potential future that you shared together, but they were clearly still deciding on that matter. It was exhausting to endure really, even as you arm constantly waved the blank canvas in their faves as though you ere fine to start all over with each other, and you were if only things could work out; that was your largest concern, minus the fact that you often worried that they may murder one another in their slumber and you’d awaken to bloody sheets and a possessive one partner.

“You want to go there Romanoff? At least I never was prepared to sacrifice my life so that I could save the universe. But you’re back, and that’s one of the many times that you have fucked with my girl’s head. You wonder why she no longer wants to save the world - it’s because you’ve ruined it for her, one second she’s in mourning from your selfish actions, the next she’s relieved that you’re alive. That is one apparent difference between us, I am prepared to give up all this superhero bullshit up, yet you’re not. And it doesn’t just fuck with her, I’m victim to it too, and you’re not even just oblivious to how I feel - you’re ignorant. Please just get a grip Nat, and choose a priority, because this is not fair any more, and I am almost done here.” She analysed him, and you could hear his voice crack through the sternly closed door. Water pooled in his baby blues, but he ensured that no tears escaped, even as he sadly with conflict looked on at her.

“At least I didn’t kill Tony’s parents. Or y/n’s.” It was affirmative that she wanted the attention that was brought to her other commitment to dissipate, but Bucky wouldn’t release it, he was like a dog tugging on a rope. He was relentless as he verbally tore into her, and made her feel conflicted about the life that she wanted. In theory, that was the worst thing that she could have switched the pointed focus to, and you picked Alpine off from your lap, and set him on the bed. With silent footsteps, that you had no doubt that Bucky had picked up on with his enhanced senses, though he remained silent and said nothing of your movement, as he stared Natasha down, tensing his jaw as he ran through his brain of what to say. He was trying not to burst, he absolutely resented being reminded of all the things that he had been coerced into doing by HYDRA, and the fact that you were listening in made the situation that bit more vivid. Of course you knew of the murders that he had made upon your bloodline, however it was rather obvious why it was not brought up often, and yet, Natasha just couldn’t let that one slide. It had taken much time for you to warm back up to Bucky after you had discovered the crime that had taken a toll on your quality of a life as a child, but eventually you had been able to look past the things that he had done as a brain washed assassin and see the real him.

“Are you shitting me?! That’s what you bring up, right now of all times. She’s never gonna open that damned door if you keep running your mouth like you’re a fucking god, privileged to say what you want without consequences. The subject is consequences is why I’m so fucking done with you, one day I’m going to wake up to a call that says you’re dead, and that’ll be on you. And then it’ll be left to me to break the news to y/n. Stop acting like being an avenger is your only purpose, and if it is, I’d leave, that level of premature emotions in a relationship when you have a preference of being somewhere else with us is thoroughly not needed. You think I’m being a dick, sure, whatever, but at least I’m not lying to you or y/n, or my godforsaken self for that matter.” His hands made destructive gestures as he spoke, it was overall emphasis on how she was frustrating him - in other terms she had turned him into a time bomb, and he had blown. He had congregated into a mass of flame and debris, of which he was depositing within the walls, his clear anger throwing Natasha off and causing her breath to hitch as she took a step back, and braced her fingers against the wall, gulping as she became unsure of what else to say as a retort.

Your head felt like it was about to split in two, the existing lanes were overlapping; you pressed your ear to the door to confirm that strangely, for once in a long time, there was evaluated silence on the other side. For just a second you turned back, and watched as Alpine climbed onto the window sill, choosing to slip beneath the blinds so that he’d get a better view of the traffic outside. Taking a breath, you put your hand upon the doorknob, feeling the cold metal hiss against your warm skin, curling your palm around it until your slid your other hand to the lock, and pushed the fine bolt to the side, deciding to give into your own hopeful whim and open the door. The sight you were met with were the pair of them staring at one another, it almost resonated as a glare, but something else was dictating behind their adamant eyes. To soothe the commitment that they had made, of not being together but standing their in uptight silence, you walked to stand right between them so that you could snap and break their eye line. And it worked, bringing a light furrow to Bucky’s brow, and apologies of words to catch in Natasha’s throat.

“Is it over now?” It wasn’t your intent to make your voice sound as meek as it had come across, but it had, and it made Natasha feel figuratively worse about the entire ordeal. She was worried that you would call her out on the calamity that she was facing, though you did not; there was no point beginning another argument, more so when everything was now out in the open, and nothing was secluded from speech. Nat smiled at you, and raised her hand, stroking your cheek as Bucky watched with tender eyes, finally calming down. She nodded to answer your enquiry, enforcing you to sigh in utmost relief. Natasha pulled you closer, and pressed her lips against your own, as to silence the possible next words that could leave your mouth. You melted into her calm course of collision that you had moulded into, humming contently into the cavern of her wordless canal, a hand trailed over your back, it was firm and you could feel each nimble detail of vibranium that was etched into the rare metal through the material of your shirt. "Can we go to bed?" A substitutional pout made its way onto your lips as Bucky pulled you to the side, swiftly.

But instead of walking away like you feared he would, he cupped the redhead's face, and slunk his lips atop of hers, arising a wide smile upon your cheeks, finally seeing them finding solace in each other’s company. Nat pushed Bucky back to you after a minute as she backwards dragged you into the room, the super soldier picking you up as he carried you through the walls and threw you on the bed. Your body bounced for a moment, until it settled atop of the sheets, and Nat crawled towards the head of the bed, looking down at your face with her emerald eyes, engorging in the sight of your blown pupils that were directed towards her. Her hands cupped the roundness of your cheeks, descending her face lower as she purchased her lips upon your own, humming into the coven of your mouth as you reached up, tangling your hands within her red hair that she had cut above the shoulder again.

Your hips jolted on their own instinct as Bucky tore your leggings along with your panties off from your body, the cold air attacking and biting at your legs and beyond as you tried to get used to the drop in temperature below. Nat’s hands descended from your face and began to grope at your tits, leaving you in a blissful wonder, as Bucky’s warm breath hit the insides of your thighs, the contrast of his hands stroking up your legs being one of extraordinary anticipation. You weren’t sure how you hadn’t already straddled his face and set the pace yourself, though you allowed him to continue as you made out with Nat.

To provoke him into doing something more, you waggled your hips in his face, only to earn a vibranium grip on either side, holding you down and restricting you from teasing him. “I’m sorry doll.” He spoke, feeling terrible that you had heard him taunt and pry at your other third with such spite. “We’re sorry baby girl, to each other and you.” Natasha removed her lips from your own as she ogled down at you, her feline like eyes causing you to hitch your breath in your chest. She was so beautiful, each part of her was absolutely stunning, little did you know though that she was thinking the exact same about you.

“Quit teasing her Buck, give our girl what she wants.” She commanded him, and delightfully he had no hesitancy nor quarrel against her words. He ushered his face closer to your crevice of instance, nestling it towards the natural heat that radiated from your pussy, brushing the tip of his nose against your clit as his tongue darted out from the oyster of his mouth, travelling up your slit as he confided his lips around your pearl, heavily suckling upon it as yo cause your back to lurch upwards and your hands coil in the sheets below you. Nat ran her thumb over your mouth, sinking it into your mouth as you suckled upon it, your lids fluttering shut from the combination of sensations that collided through your body.

“Taste so fucking good doll, you’re addictive.” Bucky’s lips brushed against your cunt, as he raised his vibranium fingers towards your entrance, sinking one solidified length into you, as your walls clamped down on the metal. Moans ripples out from your throat as he added another one and lowered his head once more, sucking on either side of your labia, his searing blue eyes gazing into your own that were heavily lidded and struggling to remain open in the long run. “So tight, can’t wait to get my cock in here and stretch it all open so that I can go again and again.”

“Why wait?” Nat asked, aiding you in sitting up as she pulled your shirt up over your head, and then began to undress herself also. “You could just fuck her now, get your pretty prick into her puffy little pussy until she creams all over you. Just thinking about that is getting me wet, do you want to eat me out baby girl?” She enquired as she licked her lips, tugging the last garment that was on her body down that were her panties. A breath staggered out from your throat as Bucky pulled away, pressing one last kiss onto your slit as he began to remove each article of clothing that covered his flawless body.

“Yes please Natty.” As soon as those words beckoned out of your mouth, the redhead held her hands onto the bed frame, and moved to sit on your face. You were enamoured to see the sight of her cunt above you, it made you salivate from the way her flower was splayed as her clit poked out, undoubtedly aroused as she descended it down onto your face, and quickly you began to eat her out, sliding your tongue up and down her cunt, until you reached her entrance and fucked get with your wet muscle. Though your pace faltered as you felt Bucky’s tip prying at your own entrance, sinking in and making you moan against Nat’s wet cunt.

“Shit you’re so fantastic with that mouth of yours, imma ride your face for a moment baby, and I know that you can handle that.” Natasha spoke, raising up and down in the air so that your tongue was penetrating her more and less as she controlled the pace. Once Bucky had settled inside of your walls, his hands clasped onto your hips as to use them as leverage to fuck deeper into you with discretion, making the bed shake as the triad of you went at it like touch deprived animals. “I’ll forgive Bucky for anything if this is what I get.” His hand slapped her ass at that, causing her to press further down onto your face, and you to moan at the flavour of her landing on your tongue.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum all over your sexy face.” The pitch of her voice got higher as you doubled your efforts, grasping onto her ass cheeks to hold her against your face as your tongue traced every inch of her insides, her wetness spreading along your cheeks and splashing around your lips. Your own sounds vibrates against her mound as Bucky fucked into you, grunts coming from behind Nat’s overlooking silhouette, his flesh hand trailing down and pinching at your clit as Natasha orgasmed upon your face. You tried to clean up the mess that she made but she got too sensitive and crawled off from your face, laying down beside you as she watched your other lover fuck into you.

Her lips pressed kisses over your neck as Bucky couldn’t help but ram his length further into you, causing you to orgasm as he pulled out and stroked at his cock, finishing on the bottom of your belly as he held his head back in continuum relief. “Holy fuck.” He breathed, crawling into the bed beside you as Nat took up hearth on your other side, resting his head into the cushion as he caught his breath. Nat’s fingers ran through the cum on your stomach, collecting it on the pads as he raised it to your lips, smirking as you bobbed your head hungrily on your fingers despite your dazed senses.

“We sure do all make a good team.” Nat admitted, turning your face to hers to press a kiss against your lips, delving her tongue into your mouth as she pulled away and rested her head against your breasts. “And I love you.” Bucky repeated the words, leaving you to be the only one to say it back, and you didn’t hesitate to do so.

Bucky Tags; @tylard-blog1 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @kaitieskidmore1

661 notes · View notes

mellowyandere · 3 years

Text

One Hell of a Logical Ruse Part 1

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)

Summary: Shouta loves a good game of cat and mouse, unfortunately for you the game’s a little rigged. This is somewhat of an experiment to try and write a smut scene from the male POV. Disclaimer I am not a man so uh yeah lmao.

Based off the pre-established fic You’re Ours to Protect.

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink

Aizawa Shouta was a rational man. He did his best to adhere to logic, and to never waste time with unnecessary action. And yet despite this, he absolutely loved watching you try to escape. You were pretty clever, even without him “accidentally” forgetting to lock the second story window that just so happened to be above some forgivingly soft shrubbery.

You probably would have figured some way out on your own, but something feral inside him didn’t want to wait around for you to act. Normally it was his ever-loud husband Hizashi that fell flat when it came to the notion of patience, but today he would relent to his own selfish desires.

Toshinori would have been utterly distressed had he been aware of the sleepy pros scheme. The number one was a man of swift action, seemingly never thinking twice before charging fist first into danger. He would not be happy Shouta was playing with you like this, but Toshinori and Hizashi wouldn’t be made aware of his little game with you. After all they had no idea he set this up, so they might genuinely try to punish you. He’d keep it quiet once he caught you and pretend it’s your little secret. Maybe you’d even be a little grateful if you believed he was saving your skin.

He rationalized his behavior by telling himself you seemed so bored, truly this was the perfect way to stimulate your mind and body. So when he heard the telltale sound of a body landing in bushes on the back side of the house he simply started a timer for 20 minutes to give you a bit of a head start.

Was it cruel to get your hopes up like this? Perhaps, but he’d make sure to fuck you senseless to alleviate the disappointment. After all, if you were a good girl you’d have settled into your life with them already. But you really did enjoy testing them, which brought out the side of him that wanted to put you in your place.

Giving himself a once over he made sure he had everything he would need for your inevitable return home. Well, now that you were basically quirkiness, all he needed was his capture weapon just in case you put up a struggle. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to fuck you when he caught you, or if he was going to haul your cute ass home first.

Thinking about plowing into you with adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the hunt had some blood rushing below his belt. Well he could always just do both.

The shrill ringing of his phones alarm brought him back from his wandering thoughts. With a sadistic grin stretching wide across his face he headed for the front door.

-----

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks trapped inside that house with three insane men. Sure they might not beat you or starve you, but the constant belittling, undermining and infantilizing was about to drive you to insanity yourself. You almost jumped for joy when you noticed an unlocked window on the second floor in Hizashi’s and Shouta’s room. The blond man had a bad habit of using too much cologne, and his dark-haired counterpart was always having to air out the room when the radio star went overboard.

Eraserhead was normally very diligent about ensuring the window was sealed tight, but last night Toshinori had come home in a flurry of smoke and blood, sending his blond junior into hysterics. It was nothing serious, unfortunately, but Shouta had been the one to calm Hizashi and tend to the number ones injuries. Amidst all the ruckus he had left the window unlocked.

You knew Shouta would soon realize his mistake and lock the window down tight, leaving you with a small time frame to enact your grand escape. It wasn't ideal, but the best you had been able to do was wait for both blonds to leave, trapping you in the house with Shouta. Normally he let you be during the day, opting to nap and grade what appeared to be homework. Hopefully today would seem like just another day, and he wouldn’t think to check on you until dinner approached.

You found yourself perched on the window sill, ready to take flight. All you had were the clothes on your back, not wanting to make any suspicious noises that would tip you off. On the count of three you braced yourself and pushed off from the ledge, landing on the bushes below with a thud.

Fuck, that was a bit louder than you had anticipated. Ignoring your growing anxiety, you made quick work of escaping the clutches of the now flattened bush and took off into the woods on the back half of the house.

Your heart was hammering like mad in your chest as you sprinted as fast as you could. It was hardly fair that it was your first time outside in three weeks and you couldn’t even slow down to take it all in. Thankfully it was spring, meaning you wouldn’t have to worry about the cold. All you needed to do was find someone to get this stupid quirk canceling collar off and then you could safely recede into the background, making sure the three pros never found you again.

Easier said than done when one of those pros was All Might, and the other two were just as formidable, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try. You did your best to not leave a trail behind, but knew once Shouta figured out you were gone he’d have no trouble tracing your tracks. It was the unfortunately shitty reality you were dealing with.

Were you really going to be able to escape? Even now as you ran as fast as you could it felt like a fruitless endeavor. There were too many variables that had to line up perfectly in order for you to pull this off, and as you ran directionless through the woods no viable solutions were coming to you. Hell, even now your lungs were burning from exertion, legs begging you to stop.

But if there was one thing that you were it was stubborn. Stubborn to a fault sometimes, and so you pushed onwards. After what felt like an eternity of non-stop running you slowed to a walk. The forest seemed never ending, taunting you with its sprawling army of trees and shrubbery. You decided to be more mindful of the tracks you were leaving, veering off course in a way that would hopefully go undetected.

Now no longer running you simply kept your steps quiet and ears alert in case Shouta had already discovered your absence. He was good at his work, but even he had limitations.

-----

Shouta had to give credit where credit was due, you were better at this than he thought you’d be. If you were his student he’d be proud, but you were his prey so he was a bit annoyed. At first your tracks had been sloppy, easy to follow and incredibly straight forward. At some point though you had changed your approach, footsteps almost vanishing as you adopted a new tactic.

He found himself crouching low, inspecting leaves to see which you had accidentally broken. There were no more snapped limbs as you carefully maneuvered through the woods. If he wasn’t a pro at hunting people down you probably would have been able to evade him, but this was his livelihood.

Ever so carefully he followed your almost invisible trail. He had you beat in endurance so you’d have to settle somewhere eventually, and without food and water you were at a distinct disadvantage. Everything was lining up in his favor as he intended, even if you were making this a little harder than expected.

The anticipation of catching a glimpse of you, of watching you realize he was there and taking off, made his heart beat faster. The longer you evaded him, the more time he had to come up with a fun punishment for you.

-----

The sun had been directly overhead at the beginning of your escape, and was now kissing the horizon. Oranges and reds were thrown about the woods as the creatures of the night began to wake from their slumber. You listened to see if you could hear the chirping of frogs to find a water source but no luck.

There was no doubt in your mind that Shouta was 110% aware of your absence by now and was probably hot on your trail. You were zigzagging a bit, trying your best to not disturb the forest floor while making it harder to track you. Dammit this was the fucking worst, it had to have been at least 6 hours in these woods, and without any food or water you were famished.

And yet despite wandering about for 6 fucking hours you had yet to see anything besides the woods. Maybe you should just give up, sit down and accept defeat and whatever punishment you had awaiting you. You couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the fear of what that would entail.

As dusk quickly turned dark you debated on whether or not you were going to rest for the night. Visibility would be lower, giving you a slight edge, but Eraserhead was a night owl meaning you were entering his domain of peak performance. There was also no guessing if he was the only one looking for you. All Might could move faster than you could even comprehend and Present Mic was fine-tuned when it came to noise location.

Sighing in annoyance as your wayward thoughts shot holes through your confidence you decided to find somewhere to try and lay down for a bit. If all three were out hunting you down they could take turns and overlap the time so you never got to rest. As busy as they should be with hero work they always seemed to find too much time to hover around you.

Spotting some dense shrubbery, you crossed your fingers that any creepy crawlies would keep to themselves and carefully began to conceal yourself. Perhaps one of them would pass by and you could gain some intel. If you were lucky they’d write this area off after not finding you and search elsewhere.

Settling as comfortably as one could in a bush you closed your eyes and did your best to focus on the sounds around you. The melodic chirping of crickets was the most overwhelming of all the sounds. Skittering of small forest animals echoing around as well. Your mind began to desensitize to those sounds, the lack of adrenaline that pushed you along at the start of all this causing it to dip into unconsciousness.

That was until you heard the distinct snap of a branch. Eyes flying open you were on high alert as you kept still. You tried to hear if there would be any follow up sounds, knowing something of a decent size had to have broken the branch. If it had been a deer they would have simply kept moving, which made you all the more anxious.

“No more tracks kitten, I know you’re here somewhere. This little game dragged on a lot longer than I had anticipated so it seems there won’t be any way to hide this from Zashi and Toshinori.”

You wanted to scream. Even though you had tried your best it simply wasn’t enough against Eraserhead.

“If you come out kitten I’ll give you one last shot to run. Those bushes over there look like a mighty fine hiding spot for someone of your size.” His voice was pointed directly towards you.

FUCK. You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not at this point but he knew you were here, might as well come out with some dignity before he dragged you out kicking and screaming.

The bush rustled loudly as you forced your way out. You were tired, famished and most of all so frustrated you wanted to cry. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he had a condescending smirk plastered to his face.

“There’s my pretty kitty, did you have fun outside?”

Shouta knew just what to say to strike a nerve, but you held your tongue. “One last shot to run. You said so yourself. Ditch the capture weapon and catch me like a man, I mean unless you don’t think you can. I’m already quirkiness which is your gimmick on a regular day, so really you're just beating on someone while they're already down.” You looked up now, glaring at him as his smile grew in amusement.

“I’m going to have to be a lot more physical without it you know, I’ll have no choice but you manhandle you.”

“I’d rather take my chances.” You knew even without his capture weapon you didn’t stand much of a chance of escape. Your only goal now was to try and see how much he was willing to handicap himself.

“Gonna give me a head start or are you going to just run as soon as I do?”

At this Shouta had to keep himself from snarking back at you. He had already given you a head start, but if he told you this was all set up you’d probably lose the will to fight on. “Five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes to run as far as you can and then I’ll come after you,” he said while pulling out his phone.

“What about Toshinori and Hizashi?”

“At the house. I told them I’d handle this, Toshinori will be coming to get us though once I tell him game over. We’re pretty deep in the woods and I don’t feel like walking back for six hours.”

You nodded at his words. So it was just the two of you then. Your combat skills were nothing to write home about, but maybe if you fought dirty you could gain the upper hand.

“Alright, tell me when.”

“Oh, I already started it. You have 4 minutes and 17 seconds.”

Fucking asshole. You took off sprinting, running as fast as you could, only opting to slow to a jog once you thought you were out of earshot. You wanted him to believe you’d be trying your damndest to put distance between the two of you. But you knew you’d never outrun him. Instead you were going to continue jogging for a bit, counting down the seconds in your head so you didn’t lose track your timer.

Once your remaining time was up you were going to lay low and try to ambush him. He wouldn’t be paying as close attention to your trail since he knew he could easily catch up.

After the remaining 4 minutes had passed you found a decent sized tree to hide behind and worked on slowing down your breathing. It felt like your heart was going to chisel its way straight through your bones, your limbs trembling with anxiety. It wasn’t often you were hunted back when you were an anti-hero. Not many people knew who you were which made it incredibly easy to be looked over.

Scooping up handfuls of dirt you waited. You heard him before you saw him. He wasn’t bothering to take it slow, seemingly eager to get it over with. He ran right past you, noticing you a second too late as dirt and debris were chucked straight into his face.

He yelled out in surprise, hands reaching out to grab you but you jumped out of reach. True to his word his capture weapon was nowhere in sight. Screaming in anger you lunged at him, nails attempting to claw his face but his own larger hands were working on wiping off your dirt assault, effectively blocking you.

He stumbled back a bit, unprepared for your hostility, before steadying himself and turning the tables back on you. In one swift motion his fist collided with your gut, forcing the air from your lungs. Your arms came down to protect where he had hit as you wheezed pathetically. Seconds later his larger frame came crashing into you, easily knocking you to the ground.

You cried out in pain, head hitting the ground a bit too hard as stars danced behind your eyes.

“Not very smart of you Y/N, I mean it beats trying to outrun me, but really? Dirt? It’s like you want me to punish you or something.”

“GET OFF ME!”

Placing a hand on the back of your head he pushed you down while his other arm pulled the lower half of your body flush against him. You could feel his erection pressing up against your ass.

You were a snarling sobbing mess at this point. All your emotions crashing down at once as you thrashed below Shouta.

“Easy now easy, calm down kitten. You did really good, better than I thought you were going to. If you calm down I might be willing to reduce your punishment, but you have to stop throwing a fit first.”

Despite his words Shouta was enjoying almost every second of your thrashing. The only thing he didn’t enjoy was knowing how disappointed you were right now. Anyone would be after coming so far. Now was his chance to make it up to you before giving Toshinori the go ahead.

As your struggles subsided the only movement from your body was from your gentle sobs. Shouta for his part was slowly grinding his hard cock against your ass as he softly shushed you.

“I know you’re disappointed kitten but I’ll make you feel better. If you’re a good girl for me I’ll be willing to look past that little dirt tactic. You’re such a smart girl though, you really did catch me by surprise.”

Leaning down he began to whisper into your ear, removing the hand from your head and bringing it down to your clothed pussy.

“You always were resourceful, it’s one of the things I fell in love with about you. If only you were a hero, but then again if you were I wouldn’t have had the fun of hunting you down.”

You felt your stomach drop at his words. All three of them enjoyed reminiscing about how they first saw you and all their subsequent actions that lead to your imprisonment. The effort they had put into bringing you “home”. It was beyond disturbing.

“Please Shouta, not here. Can we, can we just go home first?”

“Maybe if I had found you 4 hours ago, but right now you’re treading on very thin ice. Be a good girl for me and I’ll make sure Hizashi and Toshinori don’t punish you too harshly when we get back.”

His large hand was pawing at your clothed sex, black hair draping over your own face as his body curled around you. He slowly rutted against you, excited huffs of air ghosting across the side of your face. You could practically feel his heart vibrating against your back he was so worked up.

He gently rubbed his stubble against the side of your face, composure slipping a bit. While Shouta absolutely loved how feisty you could be, nothing compared to when you submitted to him. He craved the feeling of your tired body giving in to his ministrations, but he needed more.

His hand quickly slipped between your pants and underwear, index finger eagerly aiming for your folds. He couldn’t care less that you were sweaty and dirty from the hunt. Right now all he could think about was the softness of your exposed flesh, and much to his delight, the slight wetness to your outer lips.

“Seems like someone likes being caught more than they let on hmm kitten?”

He couldn't help but taunt you a bit, loving the way you sniffled and whimpered beneath him. You knew when to behave yourself, when to be good for him. Arousal was flooding his veins. The way it felt to rub himself against your perfect ass, even through layers of clothes, had his mind blanking out.

Your core was warm, even without him dipping a finger inside. Gently he began to delve deeper, gathering up your arousal to spread around. Your pants were starting to bother him a bit, retracting his hands he made quick work of not only your bottoms, but his as well. You remained still for him, opting to sulk like a child as he prepared to ravish you.

You were too cute like this, and with the lower half of your body on full display he couldn't help but groan in delight. Bringing a hand down he slapped your ass hard, mesmerized by the way your flesh gave way. You yelped in surprise, body rutting forward. His cock twitched as he palmed your sore flesh, cooing softly in apology. You glared back at him, pretty little face set in a pout.

As much as he wanted to slap your ass until you cried for him to stop he restrained himself. Although this was a punishment, he had set you up. He would go easy on you, not forgetting his promise to himself to help you forget the frustration you were feeling right now.

Whenever you got angry you opted to stop talking, instead waiting for a moment of weakness to strike or quietly accept your fate. Judging by your defeated expression he could safely assume the latter

Folding himself over you he brought his hand back down to your pussy, thumb working slow circles on your clit while he middle finger delved deeper. Your entrance was a bit tight, but with gentle persistence he worked his way inside.

Your velvety inner walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t help but rut his aching cock against your bare ass as his mind drifted to the feeling of you clamping down on his arousal instead. Your whines of protest only further spurring on his overwhelming need to be inside you.

Adding a second finger he began to pump into you with a bit more urgency. Your slick was quickly coating his hand as he hit all the spots he knew would work you up to your orgasm. Groaning in delight he brought his lips to your exposed neck, sucking and nipping at your soft flesh.

He loved when he could tell you were getting close. Your warm walls would clamp down on him, breathy mewls and moans escaping your soft lips. You were rocking back into him, uncaring of the fact that you were grinding against him as you chased your release. In these moments you abandoned your resolve to fight against him, and he happily took advantage of that. After all, if your body knew what you wanted, surely your mind would catch up one day.

Your moans were more audible now, hands grasping at the forest floor. Your back was arched into him, desperate to use him. So close, you were so close he knew it, and right before you could finish he pulled his hand away. He laughed as you huffed in frustration.

“Shouta pl-please.” Fuck, he loved it when you begged. It didn’t happen often with how stubborn you were but when it did he knew he had to comply.

Instead of verbally responding he opted to do what he wanted to all night long. Lining up the tip of his cock to your entrance he groaned at the heat radiating off you. Pumping his hand along his length a couple times to lube himself up with your excess fluid he pushed the tip in. You stilled beneath him, and in one swift movement he fully sheathed himself.

His mind went blank as you cried out in pleasure, wet walls convulsing around him as your orgasm tore through you. He held still, opting to gently pet you while cooing softly down at you. Before he met you, even with Hizashi, he had never been very vocal during sex. But now he couldn’t stop himself from babbling a bit, praising you for being such a good girl.

As your body stilled in his arms he continued to plant kisses along your delicate neck. Your soft sniffles made his heart clench a bit, how was it possible for you to be so damn cute?

“Alright kitten now it’s my turn. No pulling anything stupid, I won’t take long.”

This whole hunt had been one giant tease, working him up in a way he normally wouldn’t allow himself. Pulling out he groaned at the feeling of his cock sliding against you. Moving his hands he grabbed your waist, eyes transfixed on where you were joined. Your back was arched as you braced yourself on your elbows, presenting yourself to him.

His mind clouded over, blood opting to drag his attention elsewhere. He began to push back in, desperate to feel you surrounding him. Setting a tempo he pulled about halfway out before slamming back in, loving the way your body moved as you bounced off him.

His hands dug into your supple flesh, possibly leaving bruises. He could feel the oncoming of his own orgasm, the muscles in his lower abdomen pulsating. He was panting, heart racing in his rib cage as his eyes rolled back into his head. He didn’t have the patience to edge himself today, he needed this, needed you.

He loved hearing the way your breath was forced from your lungs when he fully sheathed himself inside you. He knew he was overstimulating you a bit, but the part of him that needed to find his own release didn’t pay that fact much mind. All he could think about was the way it felt to be one with you, lost inside your soft warmth.

After only a couple more minutes of relentlessly pounding into you he couldn’t hold it back any longer. A wave like sensation rushed through his body as his hips stuttered. He folded over you, wrapping his arms around you as he felt his hot cum rush through his cock and fill your body. The emotions rushing through him as he released into you, the woman he loved, were indescribable.

It didn’t take long for his muscles to relax, euphoria swept away by the need to take a nap washing over him. You had long since stopped crying, remaining motionless beneath him. He wondered what was going through your mind as he held you flush against him.

“Sho-Shouta.” So meek, so quiet. His heart fluttered a bit. “Can we go home now... I want to take a shower.”

Chuckling softly he pulled himself out, groaning a bit at the feeling of overstimulation as your warm walls dragged against him. Leaning away he smiled as his cum leaked out your pussy.

“Yes kitten we can go home. I’ll make sure to clean you up.”

You groaned in protest, hating when they insisted on washing you. He knew you liked your privacy but Hizashi and Toshinori were still going to want to punish you. He’d keep close by to keep them from being too harsh.

Pulling up his pants he fished his phone out of his pocket, rolling his eyes at the sheer quantity of missed calls from the two aforementioned. Poor little kitten, it didn’t look like you’d be getting off easy.

#tw: noncon #yandere aizawa #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere eraserhead #yandere x reader #yandere x you #aizawa x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader

510 notes · View notes

linkspooky · 3 years

Text

Wild Tiger - Gojo and Yuji

If Megumi and Geto together represesent the black yin, then their respective counterparts Yuji and Gojo both embody the white yang. Thus, Yuji and Gojo as mentor and student are two characters who are very similiar in nature. Rather than passive, feminine, yin standing in the shadows they both are active, masculine yang standing in the light. More on the foiling between Yuji and Gojo underneath the cut.

1. The Strongest

There are a lot of similarities between both Yuji and Gojo you can point out right away. They are both light haired. They are both the more lighthearted person in the duo, the cheerful, silly ones in comparison to their dark haired more self serious counterparts. Yuji and Gojo both tend to come off as normal teenagers, they drop pop culture references, flirt with girls, read manga. If Geto and Megumi tend to be the more brooding ones, removed from the world around them and stuck inside their own heads it’s Gojo and Megumi who are actively taking part in the world as much as they can.

Basically, in any situation they’ll be the ones less inclined to take that situation seriously, whereas Geto and Megumi are prone to be the ones to take the situation too seriously. Despite the fact that Yuji and Gojo are the more childish of the duo and act like teenagers (Gojo acts like a teenager even as an adult, isn’t he impressive) and more prone to being emotional rather than overthinking there’s also a serious level of distance between themselves and their feelings.

Gojo notices this about Yuji right away, despite the fact that curses are by some definition “alive”, Yuji doesn’t show any hesitation at all in fighting against them and killing them. It’s odd for what was a normal teenager before this point to act this way, to not even be a little scared by curses. Gojo marks Yuji out as one of the “crazy ones” like him right away because they both suffer from this disconnect between their head and their heart.

Yuji and Gojo are parallel. Yuji’s craziness is Gojo’s craziness. They even go on similiar journeys before becoming the strongest. In the beginning of Yuji’s character development, and the flashback chapter for Gojo they both experience the same thing. First, a near death happens at the hands of an enemy. Until this point Yuji and Gojo have always been the strongest. Yuji has always been like olympic levels of athletic (for some reason), both Yuji and Gojo were always good at whatever they tried when they were younger and never tasted a serious defeat.

That is until they experience their near-death and taste weakness for the first time.

After this point they both flip. Rather than being humbled by their near defeat they become arrogant. Yuji’s flip is more literal, he flips from the dominant personality Yuji, to the other personality within him the curse Sukuna. Gojo, after unlocking the secrets of reverse jutsushiki and perfecting the unlimited becomes more arrogant. These moments are meant to be paralleled to each other, we’re supposed to see Sukuna’s arrogance in Gojo’s apparent flip after becoming the strongest because they both quote the same text “ Tenjou tenge yuiga dokuson. It means “Above heaven, under heaven, I am alone worthy of honor”.

These scenes are further paralleled, because they also fail to save someone. Gojo fails to save Riko, because he let Toji through when he promised Geto that he would cover his back as the strongest.

Yuji similiarly fails to save Junpei, after offering him a chance to come back to Jujutsu High with him and fight together. They also both fail to save the person they wanted to save for the same reason, because they failed to take the situation seriously enough and got sloppy. Yuji forgot Nanami’s warning to him to watch out for the patchwork faced spirit, and Gojo got so arrogant he dropped his guard around Toji.

After these failures however, Yuji and Gojo’s solutions is always to become prouder rather than to humble themselves. They always end up seeking out more and more strength. When Yuji loses Junpei, his response is to flip to being angry and killing Mahito. When Gojo loses Riko, his response is to go on a power trip. They always both double back on strength. This is a parallel to this.

Which is why Gojo and Yuji click and get along so well, they think the exact same way, they both are convinced the solution to every problem is to just try to be the strongest so you will never lose. Yuji and Gojo have this weird understanding of each other, Yuji thinks Gojo is an admirable person and is always listening to him just because he’s the strongest, Gojo thinks Megumi should learn to swing for the fences more like Yuji.

2. I Alone Am the Honored One

Yuji and Gojo’s strongest character trait is both their pride, the pride they take in themselves, the pride they take in being the strongest. However, pride isn’t a sin. It is for the both of them a strength and a weakness. Yuji and Gojo are both people dedicated to improving themselves, to lifting themselves up to be the best individuals they can be. While they’re obsessed with becoming stronger, they also use their strength pretty unselfishly. Megumi and Geto are both people who choose who to save. Geto only cares about sorcerers, Megumi only cares about what he arbitrarily deems as good people.

Gojo is someone who is constantly working to save the masses, he does the most missions out of all the jujutsu sorcerers and is constantly busy exorcising curses for the sake of everyone to the point where his job is his whole life. He also, doesn’t just force everyone to submit to his strength by killing all the higher ups until he’s left. He’s not a tyrant. He works within the system to help people because he’s always choosing his actions along the lines of what will help the most people possible.

Gojo and Yuji are both self centered people who use their strength in an unselfish manner, though for different reasons. Yuji is emotionally moved to helping people, and Gojo is tied down by using his powers responsibly. However, despite using their strength for the sake of other people they are also both strongest when they are alone and this is a weakness for them.

They both make the same decision and the same mistake in the Shibuya arc, which is to run off ahead alone even when they have back up they could have waited for because they assume that everything will just be better if they handle it entirely by themselves.

Gojo goes all the way down to the subway alone and gets boxed. Every fight that Yuji faces alone in Shibuya arc (against a name character that matters) he loses. He loses to Choso, as a result of deciding to run ahead of Megumi instead of waiting for backup. He was completely losing to Mahito, and would have died had Todo not shown up to give him backup. Kamo Noritoshi Sr. even tells this to Yuji directly to his face, you alone are not enough.

Yuji fails to get Gojo’s box back by himself, and once again has to be saved by people working together as a team, the Kyoto students led by Utahime (somebody Gojo dubbed as weak) showing up to interrupt the fight. Yuji and Gojo are both the most active characters always running off to save people, however strength isn’t enough to save people, especially when they’re acting alone. This leaves both of them feeling insecure, because they try alone, and fail alone, they believe that they themselves are not enough.

These scenes once again are parallels. They try to save people, and then when they fail hold themselves entirely responsible. Their habit of acting alone also comes from this distance between themselves and their emotions which I described earlier. Yuji and Gojo only see themselves in their utility to the other people around them. Yuji has to be doing something in order to help others.

Both Yuji and Gojo are consumed by what I am going to dub the “chosen one complex” where they have to believe there’s a reason that they’re given such tremendous strength. They have to use their strength in order to help others. Otherwise, why do they exist? Neither of them allow themselves to exist unless it’s in service of others. Yuji can’t live on unless he’s helping people like his grandfather told him. Gojo HAS to hold the whole Jujutsu World on his shoulders.

In other words they see themselves and their relationships with others in this way. People can’t simply like Yuji and Gojo, they need to need them. Yuji is surrounded by allies because he is useful to them, because he’s strong enough to be around them. They see everything even themselves through the lens of strength. Nobody would want to be with them if they were weak. Geto didn’t like Gojo, they were only together because they were the strongest together.

If you’re not strong people will leave you behind. That is the only way Yuji and Gojo can comprehend their tangible connection to other people. That’s also why we see a similar emotional denseness for both Gojo and Yuji. It’s not that Gojo is uncaring, he does actually take notice of people’s feelings and tries to be considerate in his own way.

They both notice small little details about people while missing huge ones. Gojo noticed something was off about Geto because he was interested in him and observing him that close, but he took him at his words that he was fine when he was in the middle of his mental breakdown and was caught completely offguard by it. There’s an entire chapter about the small little details that Yuji notices about people.

However, Yuji and Megumi fail at basic communication and are constantly hiding secrets from each other, the same way that Geto and Gojo once did.

They are at the same time extremely observant, and emotionally dense, and this is entirely about how they see themselves. Yuji and Gojo can only exist in service to others. They’re only going to be surrounded by people if they are strong enough. Which is why they also wish for what is exactly the same thing. Yuji wants to die surrounded by people, and Gojo wants allies that are just as strong as he is. However, they both go about it in the entirely wrong way. What Gojo wants is people who are as strong as him to be equal with him. However what Gojo needs is to emotionally open up to people and allow other people to be equals with him on an emotional level because they don’t need to pass some physical test of strength.

Gojo and Yuji are both characters who want to be surrounded by people, and yet they’re always running off ahead of everyone else to die alone. That’s the contradiction about themselves they need to fix, in order to keep living as more well balanced people. That’s why they both need Geto and Megumi as the other halves of the equation, because they can’t solve it on their own.

#itadori yuji #yuji itadori #gojou satoru #satoru gojou #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen meta #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen theory #jjk theory #megumi fushigoro #suguru getou

531 notes · View notes

awhilde · 4 years

Text

kaeya as your boyfriend!

seeing all these hc’s for genshin is making me sob like god damn all these enemies to lovers for childe and lumine is making me simp for him. also i’ll never shut up about kaeya his yoho in the manga reminds me of oikawa and that just throws me into a whole other world of hurt

&& this is potentially the last piece of genshin content that i’ll post in a while bc i don’t just want to write purely abt genshin however !! if someone asks for it who am i to say no?

neways,,, kaeya as ur boyfriend!

the beginning of your relationship would have originated with his confession to you

despite being a huge romantic, kaeya confessed to you with no prior planning, nothing spectacular like a mysterious note leading to a tree caked in snow despite the rest of the world enveloped in a still night

in fact, kaeya hadn’t even come to terms with his true feelings when it occurred, he simply knew that he found you fascinating and of good company. besides, you easily bounced back his roundabout way of talking and your banter provided him good humour

so when the two of you were casually patrolling the streets of the city on the lookout for potential hazards, he’d dropped the bomb mid conversation when you guys were talking about your family

“yeah, i totally get that.” you had said in reply to his advice. “i’m just anxious i guess, on what i should do. after taking so long, is my brother even still alive?” after a shaky inhale, you laughed off the suddenly sombre atmosphere. “sorry, i didn’t mean to bring the mood down. i suppose i just felt a bit alone in this whole situation. its like no one is taking my brother’s disappearance seriously and its being overlooked because of all this dragon business.”

kaeya hadn’t been sure as to what to say for he felt slightly guilty for forgetting the reason why you ended up here as well. he felt an odd pang in his chest at your crestfallen expression, more so at how much you tried to cover it up with a smile.

he’d suddenly turn from walking beside you to standing in front, gauging your expression and successfully halting you in your step

he’d confess with a smile, clearly not expecting a response and solely in hopes of letting you know that he cared for you and you weren’t alone. he wouldn’t be nervous ion think, he knows his worth and would be completely comfortable with only being your friend. he’d let the news comprehend in your mind before turning around, wishing you a goodnight and a slight pun about how the early bird gets the worm

oh boy, kaeya’d would have never expected you to return his feelings but you did anyway, replying in a similar, quiet tone, expressing the emotions that you felt around the ice man and only THEN did he blush. he’d hid the majority of his reddening face behind his palm, looking off the right slightly to try and hide his face from you. the fluistered look on his face sent you out of this world

neways, the night ended in a limbo between awkward, flustered glances and timid silence, and finding the situation hilarious because well,, it just was to you two

the day after that, your relationship was relatively the same

except, kaeya no longer hid his lingering looks at you anymore which made 1). you blush and 2). everyone suspicious

but i mean they called it so,,,

everyone, that is, except paimon who exists only to be the biggest cockblocker you’ve ever met. no like seriously, did almost drowning cause the last sliver of common sense to escape from her?

regardless, paimon was on your ass every. single. time you and kaeya talked whether it be in private or within a group

like that one time when kaeya managed to get you alone in the library, having not had the opportunity to talk to you privately all day

he had stood a little too close to you (bc kaeya is a : dom and towering over you is something he would find pleasure in doing) as you talked. clearly, he wasn’t paying attention to your attempt at small talk instead opting to inch you closer to the wall with a smirk

you’re not completely dense, you knew exactly what he was doing but he was hot so you let it slide, finding the situation kinda addicting to be in

“anyway, amber was telling me something about cleaning up the aftermath of stormterror, something about barricades and the like, are you going to be helping us this time?” you had asked him, eyebrow raised over the book you had clutched to your chest

kaeya smirks and steps closer again, causing you to back away slightly. “and if i don’t?”

“go ahead and find out yourself, pretty boy, see how well that turns out.”

the bored challenge in your voice disappears when he closes the gap between you two, placing a forearm easily above your head and tilting your body in that respective direction, easily caging you in

“caring for me? where did your tsundere act go?” he whispered, breath tickling the hairs framing your face. by now, you were sure it was obvious that you were blushing

your eyes flick to his lips and back to his eye, his own catching the movement and you swore his lips stretched further into that smirk. his face edges closer to yours, a still silence in the form of an inhaled breath tense in the air and just as kaeya’s lips touched your own

the door to the library slams open

kaeya immediately brings his head up and checks behind his shoulder, body still encasing yours but this time in order to protect you

and you can’t see because,, well,, kaeya’s body was obstructing your vision so you turn to look around him but he moves that way too, protecting you from the intruder’s sight

but well, you didn’t need to see the person to know them because their voice was a dead give away

“kaeya!” paimon exclaimed and you hear kaeya’s short huff of exhaustion. “have you seen name? she said she was around here but,,, paimon hasn’t seen her anywhere. why are you looking at paimon like that?”

convinced that she wasn’t a threat, kaeya sighs and leans his forehead against yours. you giggle slightly

paimon finally sees you, at least your figure anyway and gasps. “wait a minute, is that a girl paimon is seeing? kaeya, what are you doing with this girl? unless,,, omg are you cheating on name?”

and without looking at the floating human, kaeya tells her to leave in a firm voice. clearly, he didn’t like any of this bullshit

and paimon gets a little scared before she huffs, telling him that she was totally going to tell you what he was doing

and the door slams after her with extra intended force and with the help of a few icicles

kaeya opens his eyes and gazes longingly at you, frustrated and annoyed at well,, being cockblocked. the moment of intense sexual tension is over and being flustered is well past you know. besides, you kinda wanted to clear up the misunderstanding before paimon spreads some nasty rumour. and sure, kaeya couldn’t care less about his reputation, but you cared about his

so you laugh at his misery and give him a quick peck on the lips before ducking under his arm and exiting the library

kaeya would be a little stunned at your move on him, but he was well aware of your cheeky side. for the rest of the day, he would declare war on you, trying to get you flustered again (bc its funny and cute). he’d do things like cooling his skin when you accidently touch him, standing way too close to you in group discussions and !! breathing down your neck (bc mans has cold breath) and just generally looking at your direction

you’d fight back bc he’s being ridiculous, winking when you caught him staring, squeezing his hand when he walks past and jokingly avoiding his attempts to get you in private

bc i mean, there was a dragon terrorising the world so romance shouldn’t be your first priority

a shame that kaeya thinks he’s all that and confident in his abilities that he’s like yes i can juggle saving the world and winning over my girlfriend in my sleep wym

when this silly “fight” is over, you finally let kaeya drag you into an alleyway, pressing you up against the wall and kissing you without words

and you smile into the kiss bc frustrated kaeya is so cute

and that’s the relationship, just a mix of pure fluff (bc kaeya really does care for you a lot), stupid banter and sexual tension!!

wow!

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya x lumine #why is kaeya so hot but so weak?#manga kaeya has me feeling some typa way #kaeya fluff #genshin #genshin impact #genshin kaeya

296 notes · View notes

the-deep-fog · 3 years

Text

The moon and sun have lost themselves to obscurity, and Fog descends. The environment is as classic a superpowered showdown setting one can get while still playing hospitality to a meandering mist that prefers uncountably many corners to hide itself in. One villain, a radioactive rebel holding to life like a weed that takes in pesticides for dessert, scouts the area, freshly healed and eager for a bout of vengeance. Another, the spitefully surviving embodiment of Harlan Ellison’s worst fears, calmly scours the playing field with no end of possible ending gambits stored in its motherboard/mind. Fully beknownst to their individual selves, whispered wonders and warnings reach them from unseen mouths yawning in the mist, subtly and ever so maddeningly guiding them further within the misty maze. Until, they meet. “Oh, Haricot,” CD crows, “back so soon? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the ground to rot a little longer? Are you that eager for another easy loss?” “Far from it, Chess,” returns Haricot. “Surely you don’t think I’d simply waste my time while relieved of your presence for ever so short a while?” It scoffs. “I should hope so, or else this will be over far too quickly to even be fun.” Ey smirk and start to reply, but cut emself off as the air between the two collects, gathers, and confuses into the outline of a figure sitting cross-legged with its chin resting in its hands. “Why, hello you two, Fancy meeting you here.” Both let off annoyed sighs (the similarities stopping there). CD speaks up. “Ugh, can’t you ever take this seriously?” “Yeah, way to kill the vibe,” Haricot follows up. Their complaints are met with only a grin. Suddenly directly in their faces, Fog actually replies, “So. I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.” The villainous duo look bemused, in a conniving sort of way. Haricot speaks first. “Believe it or not, I do know why you’re here- and Chess, trust me when I say it’s not a pleasant reason for you.” Incredulous, Chess replies, “Excuse me, but it’s not like I don’t know their reason for being here, and though your reaction seems improper it’s not like it matters that you think you know the situation, when in fact you’re in for...” “I didn’t lie, you know. To either of you.” Fog’s everlasting grin shifts slightly to a smirk, and the two rivals come to a realization at the same time. “Oh, you slippery little- “I knew that promise was too good to be true!” Well aware that riling up two of the biggest supervillains round the block leaves them in dire straits, the formless figure untangles their stature, giving off the appearance of taking a fighting stance. “Now, now, I’m not going back on my word at all! I shall deal as much damage as I can, just as promised. It’s only up to you whether to take advantage of the situation as it concerns your adamant adversary, or, yknow. Direct your avenging attention elsewhere.” Haricot reaches for a thorny beanstalk as they rise from the earth in numbers. “If you get dealt with permanently through all this, that’s one less thing getting in the way of me taking down Chess for good.” CD, in tandem, tessellates a jagged aspect of the ground and nods. “The less you bug me, Fog, the easier I’ll have it claiming victory over Haricot as well.” Zer smile grows even further, accompanied by the emergence of eyes from countless nooks and crannies in The Fog one could not imagine. For just because nobody could possibly know how one misty menace might pose a tangible threat, inflict damage of a directly mortal kind, it could be true all the same.

...

“Why are you doing this?” shouts Haricot, steadily growing a host of shrubs to shield emself with. “You must have a motive, nobody ever does stuff like this without a motive.” The Fog laughs, gleeful as ever, a booming sound that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. “You think I have a motive? That I am driven by anything to do what I do? Such things are the creations of you individuals; I have never had use for them. I go, and I act, and if that’s too much for you to comprehend then...” Though irradiating to demolition an eye that can hardly be described as there at all is a daunting task, Haricot pulls it off with determined flair. “Yeah, but you’re clearly going after me and Chess with some specificity- why go through all that extra effort? I know we’re not easy targets.” Fog lunges from & through nothing, resting in midair directly in front of them and looking at them intensely- less in a means of observation and more as mere eye contact for the first time they can think of. “Oh, the questions I ask have you asking questions in turn, what a wonderful relationship we have!” Haricot takes a step back, trying to develop personal space in a place where space itself can hardly be relied on, much less personhood, while Fog holds almost violently still amid the malevolent maelstrom. “I ask you this because you ask me the very same. Never has my question been, ‘why do you do this?’ because never have you, the one in my domain, done something humans don’t, and never has your question of ‘why’ been something I-” The ground beneath Haricot’s feet, steady as carbon-14, dissolves into murky air. Fog is torn to shreds above em as ey hurtle an unfathomable distance downward, till a web of vines and sludgy wood dense enough to support em forms. Though unclimbable walls extend around them, and depths great enough to distort the definitions of up and down yawn in every other direction, Fog reemerges from around a corner that cannot be found with an unprecedented frenzy in xer eyes. “You fight for your life, to survive, and I know how-why that happens. I know it,” they speak, with enough force to shatter a barometer. “Survival and curiosity are what motivates a human, but you two aren’t human, you reject it entirely, and you’re driven by more than this basic, primal duality, the intrinsic and extrinsic.” Can it yet be called an invasion of personal space when one has lost any sense of their body’s own position in space, and the other never had one to begin with? “You’re like me, and everybody questions me, and I too question everyone, but, I never- Sticks and stones degrade at the rotting hand of nuclear fusion. Haricot Heretic fights on.

...

Chess offenses, enacting gambit after glitchy gambit. “Damn you,” it mutters, then speaks more loudly into the stormy still. “What’s your goal in all this? Where are you trying to take this?” A cackle, harsh and untraceable, answers it at first. “Now, why would you assume I care for the results of my actions? That I aspire to achieve anything at all, beyond what you bear witness and contribute to as we speak?” Every word from The Fog’s mouths slithers through the air without discretion, almost as though it cares more about being heard than having its words said. The sharpness is turned down, resolution diminished, and threat put aside in a display of defensive tactics (though, how a cloud could ever be sharp enough to threaten in the first place remains bewilderingly unclear). “Look, you say you’ll never be satisfied, that it doesn’t matter if results are insubstantial- I don’t buy that. But you must know how we fight well enough to tell this won’t end well for you, so why devise all this in the first place?” CD asks again. It’s greeted by a face, ferocious and fanged, thrusting from the warring pixelation and obscurity besieging them. “I am transparent, you devil. You’re right, this is all futile, and for you to be correct at all shows my failure beautifully. I know not where this capacity for failure and determination in spite of such came from, because if I did, if my years spent interrogating the human race turn out to now have a tangible point, a lesson for me to learn, then-” Something or nothing or another scrapes hard against Chess’ horns, toppling it backwards into freefall. The ground, or whatever is passing for it, meets it immediately; jagged, hungry, & inviting. Something, many of it, planar and sharp enough to cut, is propelled or flung from the floor at it as it tries to pick itself up again. “You ask me questions I cannot, rather than will & would not answer, and I give you information I would & will not rather than can not.” Hir words seep through the condensation, slithering forward from behind its back just as easily as toothy mouths stretch as far as it can see in front of it. “You’re asking me questions none other have asked me- it should be inevitable. So why do I ask you, is it because you are different from any I have met before, or because I am different than-” The hard line between ones and zeroes forces separation and relief from the unclarity oppressing itself unto it. Checkmate is sought for ever longer. Checkered Devil fights on.

...

The fog is in no way noticed shifting, and yet Haricot & Chess find themselves in a clearing all the same. The two stand poised, not yet tired nor in peak form after all that has passed. Fog hangs in the air in front of them, not in form either. Sharp eyes, inhuman teeth, fill up space surrounding as they always have; a face, almost an outline, is arranged on Fog as it never has. It’s hesitant. Acting on impulse. Cowed and afraid. With all the cards in its hands. Ready to give up. Surely unstoppable. The target of infinite inquiries. Uncertain. “What do we have in common? Nothing of your motivation unites you with humanity- I am filled with questions, and that unites me with... them.” To Haricot and Chess, the sensation of eyes sliding their attention off them and onto another had never before been so very tangible. Nor had anything to do with Fog ever been tangible, though, only this far. “I know humanity when I see it- I don’t think these roles were meant to be reversed, okay?” they cut themself off, with their form almost seeming to be headed in a similar direction. Towards our villainous pair, a hand stretches forward. The wind picks up, drowning out sound & blurring vision, forcing the two to brace themselves; the only thing left clear in the maelstrom is a pair of eyes & a simple mouth- a face -and that hand, reaching, grasping, searching as far as it possibly can. “I am faced with the incomprehensible, filled to my limit with questions thanks to you two,” they yell, and scream, and whisper into the wind, “and it’s maddening. Every time i look at you two, it’s so, so, familiar it hurts

...

The sun rests comfortably in the sky. The moon, desaturated, finds a place above our villains’ heads as well. The Checkered Devil and Haricot Heretic stand, alone, on a simple grassy field. The air has cleared, only in a literal sense, and on the flat, clean, ground, rests a notebook, plain as can be.

...Does it get opened to the very first, or the very last page?

#writing #[that last sentence is indeed a prompt. an answer will be necessary]#hhvcd

16 notes · View notes

stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Text

what i want.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: takes place in s1 of hemlock grove just after roman’s coma and the aftermath.

word count: 3.1k

a/n: yeaaahhhh so i know this is st related but it felt more right to post this here over my marvel account? anyways, i just really really wanted to write for roman and this poured out of me yesterday (which is surprising bc i can’t remember the last time i wrote a fic all in one day) but even though i already know this is gonna flop, i wanted to post it anyway just for fun (: i hope you enjoy and if you do read, please let me know that you think!!!!

With an ear pressed to his chest and a hand cradling his neck, you counted the rhythmic beats of his frail heart.

He looked the same, felt the same, smelt the same; but the man we lay still below you wasn’t Roman. Not in the metaphorical sense at least. This man who’s lashes lay gently against the apples of his cheeks obscuring his large doe eyes, wasn’t your love. He was still and quiet and lacked the emotion of your Roman. Your Roman who could never hide how he really felt, who wore every feeling on his sleeve, unable to mask his emotion.

At least, always around you.

A soft french ballad played in the background as you hunched over his hospital bed in the attic of the Godfrey home. You could hear the faint scratch of the needle against the vinyl, more so when there was a lull between songs.

Heavy footsteps entered from your right and you knew before they reached you that it was Shelly to fetch you for school.

“I know, Shell.” You said quietly, like you might wake Roman from his restless sleep if you spoke any louder, “I just need a few more minutes with him.”

The tall girl loomed over you both, watching you stroke Roman’s cheek lovingly with your thumb, the rest of your nimble fingers still holding his thin neck.

She had never experienced the kind of unequivocal and palpable love that she did when she observed you and Roman together. She often wondered if all the tales of true love and soulmates that were regaled in some of her favorite novels were actually true? Because the way you looked at Roman, and the way Roman looked at you, could not be fabricated or faked.

After a long beat of silence, Shelly gripped her phone and typed out a simple message to you.

“I miss him, too.”

She could see tears forming in your eyes once more. Your eyes that seemed to have not ceased their perpetual filming for the last two weeks Roman had been under.

All you could was nod in response. When Shelly placed a dense hand on your shoulder, you silently wept.

It all felt so surreal. But Roman was always larger than life, you probably should have prepared for something like this. You were just so scared.

That night two weeks before, when he had come to you in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, you had been scared then, too. Roman was dramatic, yes. But never anything like this. He trembled fiercely and his fingers twitched and his muscles rippled with fear.

He didn’t seem himself as you wrapped him in blankets and placed him in your bed to warm his icy bones. You had wound your arms around him as he cried into your neck, tears and snot streaking your skin as you soothed him the best you could.

“I’m ugly, I’m a monster, I am unlovable and disgusting.” He chanted between hiccups and deep intakes of breath, like he was under a spell.

“Please stop, please don’t say that. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. I love you, I always will.” You whispered sincerely to him, beginning to shutter yourself at the uncharatieric behavior he was displaying.

He startled you even more when he grasped your wrists together with one hand and flipped you onto your back, meeting you with a fierce kiss before you could comprehend his actions.

It was all teeth and tongue and labored breathing as Roman pulled your strings in only the way that he could. Once he was inside you, he only became more brutal. It was more pain than pleasure as he looked at you with soulless eyes and his mouth agape. But everything Roman was, was good. Even now he felt like heaven.

When he had finished and pulled two orgasms from your body, he collapsed on top of you. You cocooned him with your limbs, whispering loving words and frightened questions as his body seemed to pass out from sheer emotional exhaustion, anchoring you beneath him.

The next morning, you were dressed in nothing but Roman’s cardigan and tucked underneath your duvet with no knowledge of his departure the night before.

It was only minutes after you woke that Olivia called to curtly inform you of Roman’s condition.

You placed your own hand, the one not holding Roman, over Shelly’s and squeezed it.

“He is so lucky to have you.” You said, swallowing thickly to look up and give Shelly a smile, “He loves you so much, I know he’ll wake just for you.”

Shelly knew you were trying to soothe her as well, something you had a knack for since you came into the two Godfrey’s lives. She appreciated it greatly, but wished you would let yourself swim and stop trying to make sure she stayed afloat.

“You, as well. He will wake for us.” Shelly typed and you squeezed her hand in a tight pulse.

“We can only hope.”

You dropped Shelly’s hand as she went to turn the music off while you kissed Roman goodbye.

“Where, today?” Came Shelly’s mechanical voice as the music ceased.

“His left eyelid.” You replied, standing up and stroking Roman’s porecelain cheek.

You had taken to kissing a new part of Roman each day as you left him. To cherish him even while his mind was missing. You were saving his lips for when he woke, hoping his subconscious would crave your mouth on his enough to jar him from his slumber. Roman was never quiet about his appreciation for your lips.

“And tomorrow?” She asked.

“The other.”

As you sat in english class, you couldn’t help but feel Peter’s absence in the seat next to yours. With neither him nor Roman around, you felt off kilter. The boys had been going through a rough patch lately, but Peter was still your friend when Roman wasn’t looking. Giving you winks that would reply with an eye roll, and chatting between classes. You believed you could mend the fence between the two men by simply being Switzerland, but after the police incident, Peter wasn’t so sure.

But you and Roman were alike in many ways, you told Peter as much.

“You two will work this out. Even if it gets hard.” You say flippantly one day as you rummaged through your purse for a tube of lipgloss.

“Yeah? And how do you know? Are you an oracle and just haven’t told me?” Peter jokes as you take the cosmetic from your bag.

You remove the fuzzy doe-foot applicator from the pink make up with a loud squelch and smirk at him.

“Because not only do I know everything,” a swipe of the goods on your lips, “But, I always get what I want.”

Now, his absence along with Roman’s seemed to be significant. Connected.

And then you got a call.

And the ID almost gave you a heart attack.

You fled the classroom without the formality of an excuse. It wasn’t any secret that you and Roman were a couple, so some teachers had been far more lenient with you since he had fallen under. Thankfully, Ms. Day was one of them.

You ran from the class and around the corner for the veil of privacy before you picked up the call.

“Roman?”

“God, how I’ve missed your voice.” He said, punctuated with his melodic laugh.

You burst into tears, clenching your phone tightly in your sweating palm as Roman cooed to you.

“Hey, hey, no. No tears, baby. Too fucking hot to be sad, you know that?”

“I’m not sad, God no! These are tears of joy, of fucking relief.” You felt suddenly very fatigued from the worry and dread escaping your body at the sound of Roman’s voice, and slid down the wall to the grey linoleum below.

“Good, hate to think you’d forget about me after two weeks out of commission.” You could see his smile in your minds eye and your stomach twinge with love.

“You know I could never forget about you.” You replied, whipping your damp cheeks on the back of your hand.

“I’m glad. I was counting on it.” You can see his smirk now.

“Dick.” You laughed and he did as well.

“Eh, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

There was a silence and you wished so helplessly that he was in your arms. Your Roman. Not the still and sterile one. The one with a wicked tongue and a beautiful smile that he offered to you so freely.

It was in this silence though, that you heard the purr of an engine.

“Baby, are you in a car? Are you with Olivia?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” And the bubble of joy popped just as it had formed.

“Roman, where are you? Why are you in a car?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my love.” He hummed quietly his adoration and immediately you knew what was happening.

“Put Peter on the phone.”

“How did you-”

“Just fucking do it, Roman.”

You could hear him curse, then the shuffle of the phone being passed between hands.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), how’ya doin’?” Peter asked, faking a calm tone.

“Let’s forget the goddamn pleasantries, Peter. What in the living fuck are you doing trying to track this wolf when Roman just rose from the dead?”

“Rose from the dead sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Does it sound like I give a shit?”

“Frankly, no. It doesn’t.”

“And what does it sound like I give a shit about?”

“Probably Roman not doing this right now.”

“Bingo, Fiddo. Now you either take him back to his house or I am coming to find you two and I promise you, I can be scarier than Olivia.” You hissed into the receiver, looking around to make sure no rouge students in the halls were hearing your conversation.

“Oh I don’t doubt it. But this was his choice, (Y/N). Nothing neither of us can do anything to change his mind.”

“Peter, I swear to-” This time, you were the one cut short.

“Baby, listen,” Roman said after commandeering his phone back.

“No, Roman, you listen! I know you have some attachment to helping kill this thing, but now isn’t the time.”

“But it is. It’s complicated, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“I do trust you, Ro. I do. But I don’t trust whatever this thing is.” You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, “Unfortunately I do trust what it is capable of. Which is a fuck tone pain.”

“I’ll be safe. I have Peter, Peter’s got me. I got this. We know what we’re doing.”

“Wish I could believe that.”

“Baby, I promise. I swear, even. We are gonna find some answers and then I’ll be home to you in one piece.”

You pause and Roman calls your name from the phone, his voice vulnerable.

“It’s funny. This morning you were in a coma and you were more safe then than you are right now.”

“I love you.” Roman says firmly.

“I know.”

Another pause and you know you can’t scold your way out of this one.

“Just… please call me when you get back. I don’t think I can take another minute of being away from you.” Your tears were beginning again.

“Me too. You’re all I can think about,” Roman sniffles, “I need you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both sit in silence on the line before Roman tells you he needs to go.

“Ok… but hey, Turner?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Hooch to be careful. Both of you just… be careful.”

“Always.”

And the line goes dead.

After school you debated going straight to the Godfrey residence to wait for Roman to return, but decided against it. You weren’t sure exactly what Olivia knew and didn’t know, and didn’t feel like being alone with her while you figured it out.

So, you waited anxiously in your bedroom, doing everything possible to quell your shaking nerves. You had a perpetual tremor in your body as fiddled with your phone to try and distract yourself. Which was partly true, the other reason your phone was glued to your palm was so you would know the second Roman contacted you.

Though, as the sun descended in the sky and the night sky spanned for hours, you were becoming more restless. Whatever Peter and Roman were doing was no doubt dangerous and time sensitive, and it made you sick that it was nearing midnight without any word from either boy.

As the night continued to wear on and your mind ran away from rationality into an amalgamation of pure fear and absurdity, you decided you couldn’t sit around anymore. You weren’t going to wait for Roman to call and tell you he was home safe. You were going to drive to his house and wait for him there, and if he wasn’t back in an hour, you’d go out looking for him yourself.

As you put on a pair of house slippers and a sweatshirt over your nightgown, your phone vibrated on your vanity. Your heart began to speed up in your chest as you rushed over to the table and picked up your buzzing phone. On the screen was a text alert from Roman, with only one word present:

Come.

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

When you arrived at the Godfrey’s, you fled your car so quickly you almost forget the keys in the ignition. You ran up the front steps and banged both fists on the door needing to use your excess anxiety and adrenaline for something. And while you didn’t want to face Olivia’s wrath, your judgment was clouded by the chance of seeing Roman, alive and well.

When Roman finally opened the door, you wasted no time throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled at the impact of your embrace, but was quick to remedy his shock by wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of this made your throat constrict.

“Jesus fucking Christ I missed you.” Roman all but growled as he firmly smoothed flyaways from your hair and placed his strong hand on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Ro.” You said, voice thick with tears as you began to pepper kisses anywhere you could reach.

Neck, jaw, ear, temple, cheek, shoulder, trap, clavicle, repeat.

Roman groaned appreciatively in your ear as you covered him in your lips.

“You scared me half to death you know?” You said between kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. Things have been… odd. I still can’t remember it all.” Roman says, his tone confused.

“Well, Olivia said-”

“I know what she said. I just don’t know if I believe it.”

You furrowed your brows and tried to wiggle in his hold, silently signaling for Roman to place you back on your feet, but he only gripped you tighter.

“Not yet. Just, stay a while.” His voice wavered.

You finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes red from tears and shadowed. Sometimes it was difficult to look at him, his beauty and pain were just too much.

“I’m staying, Roman. You couldn’t get me to leave if you wanted to.” You reply.

A wash of emotion washes over his features as his lip quivers and his eyes attempt to blink back tears. You opened your mouth to try and alleviate him of whatever he was feeling when his mouth crashed to yours.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours as your mouths meshed together. The velvet of his tongue and the mint and smoke on his breath. His hands gripping you everywhere as he pressed you impossibly close, moaning into you with deep primal noises sounding from his chest.

“Roman, baby,” You pulled away for air and Roman promptly moved his attention to your neck and clavicle. “I need you. Take me upstairs, I can’t wait any longer.”

Roman groaned and bit you hard on the shoulder before hitching your legs higher on his hips and running you both up the winding staircase behind him.

Bruises, at the behest of his mouth and fingers, littered your body as you lay on Roman’s chest as you both still reeled in the blissful aftermath of your climaxes. Roman’s fingers idled along and spine while his unoccupied hand rested behind his head.

He had begun to tell the tale of his night, of Peter and the turn and Chasseur and his mother. He told you Peter was upstairs unconscious and that he was unsure what was going to happen when he woke.

“So, after all this, everything’s still shitty? Is that what you’re saying?” You muttered.

“Essentially. But I have hope… we’re going to figure this out. I know it.” Roman nodded, like he is reassuring himself more than you.

“Me too. You two are smart,”

“You flatter me.” Roman chuckles and looks down at you.

“Just trying to butter you up to get into your pants.” He laughs again and slaps your ass.

“Clearly it’s working.” He replies.

“Well that, and I always get what I want.” You say with a content smile.

Roman hums, “Don’t I know it.”

“You enable it.”

“Again, I know.” He kisses your forehead and you burrow closer to him.

You two lay in silence a bit longer before he sighs.

“I think we should move to sleep in the attic. Just in case something happens with Peter and he needs us.”

We. Us.

The small implication in his word choice makes you smile and once again fall under a wave of emotion, just so happy that your Roman was back to you.

You don’t know what you had done if there was no we or us with Roman any longer. But you choose to not fixate on the past.

You just nod and kiss the underside of his chin. Roman gives you a small grin and begins to get up. As you do the same, Roman throws you one of his white button downs, giving you a stern look as you raise an eyebrow in question.

“Just put it on. I got two weeks to make up for, baby. It started with reuniting, then fucking, and now you in my shirt.”

You try to hold off the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face and put on the shirt, buttoning it to just above your cleavage.

“Yeah? And what’s next?” You ask, watching Roman round the bed toward you.

“Sleep.”

Now in a pair of threadbare silk pajama pants and nothing more, Roman extends his hand to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” You reply, taking his hand, weaving your fingers as he led you to the attic.

i hope you enjoyed even though it was for a different show!! and if you did, pls i’d love some feedback (:::: also let me know if you would possibly want another roman fic bc i have other ideas lol

339 notes · View notes

iamakiller · 3 years

Text

Where Babies Come From

“Dad? I have a question.”

Our eyes meet over the top of Henry’s head, where he sits propped up by pillows between us on the bed. You bite your lip to hide your smile. My plan to bore my son to sleep has been a failure, it seems, since you are the only one who appears to be even slightly drowsy. As always, Henry’s thirst for knowledge - and wish to delay bedtime for as long as possible - has overruled all else.

I fight the urge to vent my frustration with a sigh. For all that his constant need to bombard me with questions can be rather tiresome, any negative feeling is vastly overruled by the gratitude I feel that we are all here together. “Yes, Henry?”

On this occasion, his question is actually related to the topic at hand. “Where’s Legolas? They’re in Mirkwood, right? So Legolas should be there. Where was the part where he chases after them and jumps on all the barrels? That was so awesome!”

This time, I allow myself a small sigh of displeasure. “Henry, what have I told you?”

“The book and the movies are very different,” he parrots, obediently.

“And?” I prompt, not quite as gently as I could, because he has somehow managed to omit the main point.

Henry scrunches up his face, trying to remember. “The book is better?” he offers, with more reluctance than I would like.

“The book is much better,” I affirm, with a satisfied nod. “And certainly didn’t necessitate three feature-length movies.”

“I just think Legolas is really cool …” he mutters under his breath, always keen to have the last word. Today I will allow it. He is young, and doesn’t know any better.

From the other side of the bed, I hear a small cough. You are undoubtedly concealing a laugh, because you do not understand how important this is. I honestly cannot comprehend how you, whose entire career is focused around literature, have somehow managed to never read a single word of Tolkien up until this point. But we are remedying this sad state of affairs week by week, as I introduce you and Henry - and Little b as well, if they are listening - to the prequel of one of my favorite series of books.

I set the book down on the bookshelf beside the bed, and ruffle Henry’s hair. “Time to go to sleep, honey.”

Now, another popular stalling tactic comes into play. Henry clutches at his throat like he is about to go into anaphylactic shock. “I’m so thirsty,” he croaks. “May I have a glass of water, please?”

“I’ll get it,” you offer, before I can query if he is actually as parched as he states. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, almost immediately grabbing onto the top of the wooden headboard, and squeezing your eyes shut as you do so.

I spring to my feet immediately. “Are you all right, my love?”

After a few seconds, you open your eyes, and offer a bright smile that is probably more for Henry’s benefit than mine, since he is also staring at you in concern. “I’m fine. I just stood up a little too quickly, that’s all.”

As soon as you leave the room, Henry turns to me, his brow furrowed with worry. “Is Britt okay, Dad?”

“Of course,” I assure him, injecting a level of cheer and confidence into my voice that I do not particularly feel. You probably are fine, but … what if you are not? I very much feel that I should have offered to go in your stead, but given that you have refused my help multiple times this week on the grounds that I am fussing over you too much, I thought that perhaps it was best not to push the issue again. Especially not in front of Henry, who has seen quite enough of the adults in his life bickering with each other ...

Henry doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”

“Britt is fine, honey. Being pregnant is extremely hard work, so she has been experiencing a few unpleasant side-effects. But she is absolutely fine, I promise.”

Henry nods thoughtfully, lapsing into silence for a rare few seconds to fidget with his dinosaur-bedecked duvet cover. Then, as usual, there is something else. “I actually had a question about that,” he says ominously.

Over the course of the day, he has already queried what size Little b is at the present time, when we will know if they are a boy or a girl, and if I think they will like dinosaurs as much as he does. I do not know what else there is to ask. “Go on …”

“Well, I bought a book about babies on Amazon, and -”

I can’t help but interrupt him, to question him on this point. “Do you mean your mother bought you a book?” That would be a pleasant development indeed, though it seems unlikely, since she has barely said two words to me since our dinner at Sandra’s house.

Henry stares at me like I am being very dense. “Mom left one-touch ordering on. I can buy whatever I want. But anyway, I bought a book about babies. It’s called “Where Babies Come From” and it cost ten dollars, and I’ve read it three times, but Dad … the title is a lie! The book doesn’t actually tell you where babies come from-”

Mercifully, this alarming thread of conversation is interrupted by you returning with Henry’s water. You pass the glass to him, and he takes the tiniest sip imaginable before handing it back to you to place it on the nightstand for him. “Thanks, Britt,” he says. “I’m sorry you’re having unpleasant side-effects because of the pregnancy.”

You give me a slightly strange look, but smile fondly at Henry. “That’s very sweet of you.”

It is time, I think, for us to make a quick exit, while he is distracted ...

“Well, goodnight,” I say, beginning to stand up.

Unfortunately, as is often the case, luck is not on my side. Henry grabs my arm, preventing me from making my escape.

“I’m not done asking my question, Dad. I think there might be pages missing from the book. On page five, it says that the man and the woman have a very special cuddle. And then on the next page, it says that the sperm fertilizes the egg. But that doesn’t make sense. Isn’t the egg inside the woman? How does the sperm get in there?”

Oh lord ...

On the one hand, I am greatly impressed by my son’s curiosity and attention to detail. On the other hand, I want to crawl under the bed and hide.

Looking around the room for inspiration or assistance, my gaze falls on you. But it seems there will be no help to be found there. You are fighting so hard not to laugh that there are tears in your eyes. “Excuse me,” you splutter. “I’m going to go get a glass of water for myself. I’m having some side-effects, you know.”

I glare at your retreating back. How dare you abandon me so callously in my time of need? From the doorway, you turn and glance over your shoulder, giving me a small smile, before disappearing from sight. I will remember this, I think.

“Did you ask your mother?” I suggest, after a long pause in which Henry stares at me without blinking, waiting for me to impart my wisdom on this topic. If only I had some ... but my mind has gone alarmingly blank!

He nods vigorously. “Yeah. She said she couldn’t remember because “it happened so fast”. Then she said that you’re the one with the sperm, so I should ask you.”

Well, that is simply marvelous. It seems I have been thrown under the bus by my current wife, and my treacherous ex. Of course, I knew this question would come eventually, since Henry has been so interested in the topic. But I was not anticipating it for quite some time, and certainly not out of the blue like this. What am I supposed to tell him? What on earth is appropriate knowledge for an eight year-old? I try to mine my own childhood learning for inspiration, but save for Biology lessons in high school in which everyone sniggered at the diagrams in the textbook, I do not remember much of anything being said about reproduction during my time in the education system. Certainly not in elementary school.

“Dad?”

This is ridiculous. I am being ridiculous. I will simply do what I have always done, and tell him the facts as best I can.

“There are no pages missing from your book, Henry” I assure him. “It is quite correct that the man and woman have ‘a special cuddle.’” The wording of that euphemistic phrase is so vile that I almost gag on the words. “And at the end of that cuddle, the man ... puts his sperm inside the woman.”

My little scholar is unsatisfied by my very slight elaboration on what this cursed book has taught him. “Yes, but how? I don’t understand …”

God have mercy on me ...

“Well, he puts a part of himself inside the woman for the duration of the, ah, ‘cuddle’.”

As Henry opens his mouth once more to ask for clarification, I think I actually feel a part of my soul leave my body. “What part? One time I saw a kissing scene in a movie Mom told me not to watch, and the boy put his tongue in the girl’s mouth. Is that what you mean?”

Making a mental note to question Nicole on how closely she is supervising our son, I take a deep breath and answer his question, trying to ignore how ridiculously warm my face feels. “Not quite. Actually, the man puts his penis in the woman’s vagina.”

It was much less embarrassing to say it out loud than I had imagined it would be. I feel a sense of relief - then amusement - wash over me as I take in Henry’s reaction to my words. His eyes have gone as wide as saucers, and both of his hands are now covering his mouth. “Oh my god!” he mumbles, through his fingers. “That’s so gross!”

“I can assure you it isn’t gross at all,” I tell him. That I am quite confident about, at least.

Henry peels his hands away from his face, not looking convinced at all, in spite of my certainty on the matter. “I am never putting my penis in a vagina,” he declares. I will undoubtedly remind him of this when he is older. “I think I’m ready to go to sleep now,” he tells me, avoiding my gaze, and burrowing right under the lightweight duvet.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I run through the rest of his familiar bedtime routine. The most important point is that I must check under the bed for monsters. As usual, I find none, though there is rather a lot of Lego which he will be required to clean up in the morning. The pillows are arranged just right for him, the covers are pulled down slightly so that he can breathe, and I kiss his forehead and stroke his hair just as I used to when he was a baby.

I bid him goodnight, and close his bedroom door gently behind me. Although he still has a tendency to wander in and join us in the night, I have a strong suspicion that he will stay put tonight. I can only hope that he will be feeling a little less awkward in the morning.

When I turn around, I find you standing right behind me, grinning from ear to ear. “I enjoyed that better than the book,” you inform me. It seems you have been standing here listening the entire time ...

“Do you think I’ve traumatized him?” I ask. It is an extreme question, but a genuine one. “What if he never has a relationship with another human being because of the dreadful way in which I handled that conversation?”

You grab my hand and squeeze it, still smiling. “You did very well,” you reassure me. “I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s still interested, perhaps you could ask him to bring the book with him next week, and we can read it together?”

I cannot think of anything worse than reading the book together, but as always, you have managed to placate me with ease. I raise your hand to my lips, and kiss the back of it in a silent thank you. “This isn’t just a ploy to get out of reading the next chapter of The Hobbit, is it?” I ask, already quite sure of the answer.

When I glance up at your face, your eyes are sparkling with mischief. “It’s getting late,” you say, the corners of your lips twitching as you evade my question entirely. “Why don’t we go to bed? I was hoping you could teach me all about those ‘special cuddles’ you seem to be such an expert on.”

I glare at you for your teasing, then snake one of my arms around your waist, pulling you towards me. My hand settles on the swell of your stomach, the exact source of your unpleasant side-effects, and all of Henry’s awkward questions. “Hmm. It seems I already have.”

But I will be more than happy to remind you. As many times as you require it.

I am an expert on the subject, after all.

#24/01/2021 #B+C #B+C+h #B+C+h+b #direnightshade #is embarrassment a trigger warning?#tw: pregnancy

25 notes · View notes

monofpoke4life · 3 years

Text

Shattered

Rain clouds rumbled in the inky blackness of the midnight skies above as sleek, black car skidded as it rounded a sharp curve within the dense forest. Dib gritted his teeth as he cursed at himself under his breath. His shoulders tense and knuckles white as he raced towards the finish line just up ahead. He could see the dim yet steadily increasingly bright glow filter through the towering evergreens.

He had to make it! He just has to before-before-before-

He didn't want to think about it! Thinking about it made it more tangible, and the more tangible it became, so did the potential outcomes. He shook the thoughts from his head! He didn't have time! He needed to focus, or else his world he fought so hard to protect would be in shatters.

He could smell the smoke, hydraulics, and other foreign materials as his car skidded to a halt beside another matching, government, standard issue vehicle. The nearly vacant clearing was illuminated by the raging flames of the Irken wreckage just beyond the rigid form of his reckless partner. The roar of his pounding heart in his ears drowned him in noise as he cut the engine with the wreck fully within his sights. He forced down the nauseous dread that sent his insides on a rollercoaster into his throat, and then to loop de loop through every fiber of his being as he rushed out of the car, sidearm in hand.

"Sir! I'm so glad you're here! You won't believe it! We've got one! We actually got one! Just wait until the rest of the goons at the Department of Government Cover Ups get a load of this," Brandon, the young field agent and partner, exclaimed as he continued to point his gun at the injured figure beside the crumpled ship. With gun drawn, Dib steadily but hastily came to stand behind the overeager agent, seemingly aiming at the green, female figure as well.

"I can't believe it! I mean, I saw it on the radar, but I did it! I shot it down!" Brandon barely registered the way his partner and senior field agent readjusted his hand as it started to tremble, or the tightening of his jaw as Dib gritted his teeth. If he had the energy or time, he'd glare at Brandon for his glee, but now was not the time.

Instead, he focused his patient gaze onto the angry and frantic amethyst of the female Irken that was still pointing her laser gun at his partner. A miracle she was able to stay upright with the way her labored breathing shook her body, or maybe that was from the intense heat of the flames that were practically against her back, from when she initially crawled out of the wreckage, causing her to sweat profusely. Whatever the case, she was itching to move, yet continued to stand her ground with the gun pointing at her.

"Isn't eerie, boss? I mean just look at its eyes! It keeps glancing at its ship, and keeps trying to shuffle itself closer to it! I think there is something important in there! I think it could be something dangerous or valuable. What do you think, boss?" Brandon rambled, not even noticing the way the alien's growling increased at the mention of the contents of her ship.

"Have you tried asking it," Dib asked in an eerily calm voice that Brandon failed to notice, or the way neither Dib nor the alien broke their gaze away from the other.

"Uh-er-um, no I didn't! But I have tried talking to it, sir! It just keeps growling at me, and it refuses to put down its weapon. I don't think it understands English, sir," Brandon replied, assured in his logical assumption.

However, his partner wasn’t as assured, as Dib harshly snapped back, "She understands English!"

Slightly taken aback by his tone, but just assuming it was from his usual ineptitude, Brandon replied, "Well if you're so confident, sir, ask her to hand over her gun. You are the senior field agent after all."

Dib frowned at this, but stepped forward nonetheless. He didn't lower his guns nor did he move in front of Brandon. He stayed positioned behind him as he did just that.

The sneer on her face morphed into a frustrated frown as she slowly moved the gun away. Letting it loosely dangle from her claw by the bit that protected the trigger, before sliding it across the ground where Dib caught it with his foot.

Kneeling down, Dib kept control of his breathing to be steady and calm, as he picked up the gun and stepped back. It matched the steady rhythm of her own tempo, but not that Brandon noticed. He was too blinded in glee at their progress; however, there was something off that he did notice.

Despite having her hands up in surrender, her muscles were still taught as if to spring into action at any second. Although not unusual for someone about to be captured, especially one ready to take the slightest opening to escape, but the way her posture seemed to slump in some form of relaxation sent off warning bells.

Like she was relieved.

Before Brandon could fully comprehend what was going on, not that he would've assumed right, he felt the cold barrel of a gun press against the back of his head as Dib demanded, "Drop your gun, Brandon! Drop it, and kick it towards the weeds!"

Betrayal and horror were the understatements of the century for the look that was on Brandon's face. There was a brief moment of silence, and Dib could practically hear the wheels in Brandon's head turning to figure out a way out of this, dropping his gun in incredulous disbelief.

He should've known Brandon would try to break free, but as Brandon whipped around and attempted to grab Dib's gun, a shot rang out. Dib knew he had nothing to worry about as a flash of blue darted from behind them, grazing Brandon's cheek.

"She's an Irken, Brandon," Dib remarked as he struck him with the butt of his gun and kneed him, before staring down at his crumpled and groaning form, as he continued, "She practically has a full armory on her back."

Brandon growled as he was flipped onto his stomach, knee jammed into a kidney, and arms yanked behind his back as his “partner,” slapped some handcuffs on him. He raged and hollered beneath him as he called almost every name he could think of under the sun, especially using the term traitor. However, Dib seemed unphased as he anxiously watched her dart into the wreckage to make sure the precious treasures were unharmed, disappearing in a cloud of billowing smoke.

Noticing her sudden absence amongst all his yelling, Brandon threw back, "Have you no shame, man?! What about your family?! Think of them!!!"

At this, Dib let his anger slip, focusing more pressure on the knee in Brandon's back as he growled, "I am thinking of my family!"

Just as he said that, some clanging metal graced their ears as the alien darted out of the smoke and wreckage with a blue, glowing orb in her arms about the size of a large beach ball. However, with all of the smoke and the way she held the orb, it was hard to make out what was inside.

A coughing fit triggered by the smoke wracked her body as she dropped to her knees a safe distance from the smoldering ship, still cradling the blue orb protectively. They watched transfixed, one anxious and the other curious, as the orb seemed to flicker. The force field suddenly dropped, and Brandon felt his heart stop.

His head was in a full tizzy as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. He focused on the easiest one his mind could handle. A little robot with metal arms extended protectively to encircle two forms. The force field retracting into its antennaless head. It gently set down two, small, fleshy forms in the grass. One in a fetal position, the other limp.

Kids. The robot pulled back to reveal kids! The alien checked calmly yet urgently over the smaller girl with shoulder length black hair and warm brown eyes full of tears. Other than her little toddler chest heaving in fright, she seemed to be okay. However, the other one, a bit slightly older, who was just out of Brandon's line of sight, appeared to be in slightly worse condition. As she shifted her attention to the boy, he could feel Dib leaning forward to desperately catch a glimpse.

The Irken's form blocked most of the view, as she made a hand motion at the robot towards their general direction. At the silent command, the robot nodded and swiftly slinked like a shadow across the field towards them.

At the sudden departure of the robot, the little girl with her singed dress and trembling lip followed it's barely perceptible movements with ease. She pushed up her round, cracked, little glasses with the ease and dexterity of a child much older than her, and one with far less chubbier fingers than her toddler form. One more human than her.

Not that she looked all that different from a human. Her teary eyes followed as the little robot came to a stop in front of them. Its eyes illuminating them in a harsh yet somewhat dim, red glow.

At the sight of them, the little girl's face contorted in relief and more tears as she went to sprint towards them, but didn't manage to get far as the mother simply hooked a claw in the back of her dress with practiced, almost instinctive ease. Not even looking up as she held a device from her pak above the young boy's body. Brandon gasped as he suddenly felt the pressure on his back remove itself only to have that breath of relief squashed away as the robot quickly took over with the simple command of, "Mimi, gravity mode."

At that, Brandon hissed as the air in his lungs was forced out once more by the little robot. It suddenly felt like a heavy boulder was focused all in one spot on his spine. He watched Dib step in front, into their line of sight, and towards the alien.

Dib tried to simply stride over briskly to the alien. However, he quickly found himself sprinting just as the little girl ripped herself away to sprint towards him, and that when Brandon heard something that made his heart stop.

"PAPA!"

No! He had to have heard wrong, but despite his denial, the little girl continued over and over again, "PAPA! PAPA! PAPA!" Only stopping long enough to jump into Dib's arms. He caught her with almost practiced ease. She nuzzled her way into the crook of his neck, blubbering, as he regained his swift stride, continuing on towards the other two. He nuzzled the top of her head back in comfort, holding her close, as he gently rubbed her back soothingly.

Brandon gulped as his eyes widened. Oh no! Oh god no!

He watched as they were almost beside the other two as he set her down, and she sprinted towards them, blubbering about, "Mama" and "Tibothy."

But Tibothy is the same name of…oh no oh no oh god no!

The little girl latched onto the female's arm as the boy sat up with a whimper just as Dib knelt down beside them, and placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. The boy looked up, and his face finally came into Brandon's view. He was the spitting image of his father, but with dark blue hair and eyes the same color as the female alien, who gently shook the little girl off her arm. Clearly, not one for being hanged onto unnecessarily.

Little tears welled up behind round glasses, and he flung himself into his mother's arms to hide his tears. Dib went to comfort the boy by placing a hand on his back, but stopped and went rigid at the sight of harsh burns on the boy's back. The way he flinched away from the touch at his back spoke volumes of the pain the boy was in, and the sight made Dib stare. Intense rage to rival his sister’s coalesced in his eyes.

Only the sound of the alien's murmured comforts and the action of the little girl flinging herself into Dib's chest seemed to finally snap Dib out of his head. He scooted closer to run his fingers through the boy's hair. Careful not to mess with the singed edges of the tuft of scythe-like hair so identical to Dib's own.

Additionally ever-so-careful not to knock the girl over the girl from his lap, Dib gently brushed over the long gash on the alien's head, above where her eyebrow should be. He wiped away what blood he could with his sleeve, before cupping his hand over her bruised and swollen cheek.

Her worried expression melted away as she closed her eyes, and leaned into the touch. Dib tenderly pulled her closer, and leaned down to touch his forehead with hers. A small, gentle, relieved smile graced her lips as her hand rose to rest upon his. A ring on her last finger glittering in the calm moonlight, as the storm had long since passed. They pulled back, smiling at each other as if in their own little world. A world that consisted of them and their children.

Brandon gulped as he couldn't deny it any more. He fucked up! He fucked up so bad! He shot down his boss' wife and kids!

And, as Dib pulled away to readjust his daughter in his lap, he glared over his shoulder at Brandon, who felt a chill go down his spine. His family meant the world to Dib Membrane, and hell was sure to come to whoever tried to shatter it.

#datr #Invader Zim #Dib Membrane #Tak #Invader Tak #Tadr #OC's #A dash of next gen #Also now on fanfiction.net #IZ

15 notes · View notes

hage-potato-hog · 4 years

Text

Mereoleona Vermillion x f.reader (with some NSFW)

@vermillionflames (insert a ton of needless information on why I suck) If you get bored of reading the non nsfw part, scroll down to the highlighted zone , lower it is the a bit more mature content. As I have mentioned before, sorry, Becca! Also, it’s like 3 a.m for me now, I haven’t edited a single thing, I am not even sure it’s written in English, lol. Goodnight! __________________

"I am afraid!"

"There is nothing to be afraid of, you are a proud lion, aren't you?"

Mereoleona looked down at a young man laying his head on her lap, a profound puddle of red liquid seeping into her clothes. Another handful of blood and he won't be able to recover. For most of her life, the proud lioness lived alone, had to fend for her life in the wilderness where only the fittest survive and back when she still lived in the capital, her family, friends, other royal knights, all of them seemed at least decent enough not to get killed in a battle. Today though, she was facing a different type of reality. For the first time, she felt lonely and desperate amidst the cruelty of this world.

"You shall not die," a low growl vibrated in her throat. "MEDICS, WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY?!"

Her shouts were wasted. A couple of Crimson Lion knights standing beside her had neither healing powers nor the mental capacity to comprehend that their teammate is surely dying right in front of them.

There was nothing anyone could do. Only wait. Observe the skin turning paler until they cannot make out another plea of help through the blood spilling into lungs, throat... Reality hurts.

"I am useless," whispered the ginger female slightly shaking.

A droplet fell. Then another one and another. Suddenly, the scene was engulfed in a rainy mist. And so, the tragic end came.

Interposed in the thunder, puddles began echoing. The next instance Mereoleona was pushed to the side with a "move it" said in a calm demeanor. A young woman looked the bleeding man up and down and after a brief evaluation began moving her hands through the injuries. Several strands of unruly hair fell onto her focused eyes, sticking to long black eyelashes.

"I am sorry to be asking this of you," she began without unnecessarily moving a muscle. "could you please wipe the hair out of my eyes? It feels irritating, but I cannot move."

Mereoleona reached out her hand. A bloody trace of two fingers was left on the woman's forehead, but she simply smiled and thanked.

Usually, when every second counts and minutes can determine whether a person lives or dies, the time passes slowly. This time though everything was over in a wink. Triumphantly, the mysterious lady leaned back. Her face gentle and smiling. The man won't die.

Dense rainfall wouldn't stop, seemingly unable to read the lightened mood, it kept on falling to mourn a loss.

"TAKE HIM AND HURRY," the substitute captain roared gaining her sanity back. The party came upon an abandoned shack in the middle of the fields and decided to take shelter there, the woman from before still tagging along.

A nicely burning fire and a roof above their heads, they have decided to stay here for the night. Having finished the roasted boar Mere caught for dinner, they now where sound asleep. Still feeling restless, the ginger-haired woman decided to go out and take a breath outside on the porch, her, now clean, hands reached out towards the everlasting stream of sky water. She could still see blood on her skin, feel how sticky and different this blood was from that of her foes.

"Some things are inevitable," a voice said from behind her. Wrapped in a blanket sat the woman from before. She felt uneasy to stay in the same room with unfamiliar men and chose to come out onto the porch. "Even if you do everything in your power, there comes a time when it's not enough," she came closer and put the blanket over the taller female which earned her an eyebrow raise. Voice as soft as a prayer for the peace in the world whispered "sometimes... you just have to see them off with a smile."

"I reject this kind of logic."

"Eh? Miracles do not happen!" the girl protested.

"You say that as you popped out like one yourself. Although yes, I agree with you, miracles do not happen, but you can prevent mistakes from happening."

"Eventually you will break. The future is set in stone."

The ginger-haired woman turned around with a huge grin, "I will break the stone it is set in," she bolstered flaring up her mana making the blanket burn off in cinders.

Her companion simply stood there admiring the ashes fly off. The one in front of her was certainly not your everyday person, something was captivating about her, to the point you get intrigued to see them in any state of mind. "I want to be there," she said.

"Hm? You want to be where?"

"When you lose the battle against fate or... when you run to set the heavens ablaze, I wish to be there and see you, you are fascinating!"

Mereoleona blinked for a moment but the very next second got back her confidence retorting, "If you want to be there, then you must reach my level first."

"Mmm. I will, do not worry. As a fact, I am traveling to the capital right now," she took out her grimoire and proudly tossed it up a few times into the air.

"Oho? What for?" Mere felt a sadistic intent rise deep within.

"I plan to join the magic knights. You people are magic knights, right? You must have heard of the Crimson Lion King, the squad led by the famous Vermillion family? Aaah, I have been admiring them for so long and I finally get the chance to see them."

"What's so good about them?"

"How can you be a mage and not understand it?! They don't base their judgment on your status or your wealth even the current level you are on isn't as much of a factor as the potential and your determination. And the new captain, Mereoleona Vermillion, I have heard so many fantastic stories about her, though everyone is saying she is terrifying. I wish to feel what it is like to be under her guidance one day."

As the girl kept on ranting about the idolized female sorcerer, her partner couldn't contain her laughter anymore. What an interesting creature she found along the path. One moment she is consoling her, acting superior, next she's ranting about her beloved Mereoleona without knowing who she is talking to in the first place.

"Ah, I like you, girl!" she looked back thrilled.

"I am very pleased to have met you too... Um... did we exchange names?"

"Mereoleona Vermillion. Welcome to the squad, from today on, you are a member of the Crimson Lion King and soon enough you will feel the pleasure of burning under my guidance!"

*** *** ***

"Hm, it seems we have five days off starting tomorrow," a female chimed walking down the street.

"Perfect for some vigorous training," another one responded to her.

The first woman stopped and looked back with dead-bored eyes, then gazed away and kept on walking without saying a word. The atmosphere turned cold instantly followed by silence stinging painfully.

It has been over 2 years since the fateful day when Mereoleona met a strange yet charismatic woman out on a mission. 2 long years filled with hard work to prove herself and years of Mere's admiration growing until it finally blossomed in love. They now were dating, but even though their love vows have been said after getting to know each other in and out, incidents like this still kept on occurring between them. Someone as bright as the ginger-haired female's lover doesn't go silent unless they are genuinely hurt. For Mereoleona, other people's feelings were a mystery. Even though normally she wouldn't feel even the slightest bit bothered, when it comes to her most important person, she couldn't stand seeing the smile vanish from her face.

"Ahaha, yea, you are right, I still have a long way to go," the girl laughed and turned around to face her lover with a huge grin. Which was fake.

"Tell me straight... I am not as good as you with humans and their emotions," this time, Mereoleona's voice indicated pain.

"Ah, I did not mean that, I am sorry," with a quick motion she stepped in front of Mere and took her hand lifting it to her lips, gently planting a kiss and then putting it against her own cheek. "I want to spend more time with you," she smiled with an honest sparkle in her eyes. "I was thinking that the two of us could run somewhere, anywhere really, as long as it is you and me."

Both of them stood there blushing. The hand pressed against the woman's cheek turned around holding her face still. Then, two lips met in a soft kiss that seemed to be too sweet for the girl to handle. Right before her knees could give out, they parted.

"Leave it to me," the eldest Vermillion said leaving her girlfriend still in shock.

It did not take long for them to reach the approximate location of their 5 days long logging, but before getting the privilege to rest in a warm bed embracing each other, they had to go through a forest that even thieves pass in a circle. By the time their hands landed on the doorknob of a hut in the middle of a plain, surrounded by thick bushes, it was already a dark orange evening with sun way bellow the horizon. Tired, dirty, and sweaty the woman overlooked the energetic one with jealousy.

"A challange, how else," she chuckled to herself dropping the bags down.

"Are you disappointed?" Mereoleona studied the girl's face.

"No. It wouldn't be you if these things weren't included and I couldn't love you any other way. Though, I must insist that from now on, no more special-monster-challange-deluxes, okay, love?" her voice took up a threatening note.

"Yes, I know. Don't worry. From now on, there's only rest. Do you want to go take a dip in the the hot stream?"

"There is one?" the woman asked turning around excited.

"Of course, did you expect we will be enjoying a freezing lake?"

"... I mean, even a freezing lake can turn into a volcano with you..." she said recalling various instances.

Mereoleona yanked a towel off a wooden rack by the door and turned back to her girlfriend "I will be going first, don't stay here too long. Do not forget, I will be waiting." Her step did not lack the usual confidence nor seemed tired even the tiniest bit. Far from it. She seemed to be standing straighter with her shoulders and neck tense as if a beast ready to jump its prey.

It certainly was warm inside the cabin but the temperature magically rose higher as Mereoleona closed the doors as she walked through. The young woman, now left alone, began touching her blazing cheeks, then fanning at them. In her mind, the moment she walked out the door, any layer hiding her bruised skin will be ripped off and even more skin will be broken from Mereoleona's overbearing kisses. Even as she was thinking that, her hands dug deeper into the bags searching for the negligee she bought exclusively for this occasion. Various garter belts flew on the bed with dark, white and burgundy laced panties, some nightgowns, meant to be used during summer and as such more revealing, scattered all around the floor, yet, nothing seemed good enough until her attention was caught by the second white towel hanging on the wall. Sometimes, the simpler way is the right way, she thought snatching it with more force than her beloved minutes ago.

"Hey! Don't tell me you cannot move anymore! Should I make you?” a roar resounded from the outdoor bath.

Flustered and in a hurry, she threw off the clothes, wrapping the piece of cloth around her. This sweet type of anxiety made the woman's hand tremble as it pushed the door open.

The nightly breeze swiped past the heated body standing in the doorway cooling it down a mere bit. Mereoleona was in the water, facing towards the door, but her eyes wandered through the shape and texture of a sake bottle which she held high towards the sky. There was no way she did not hear the door opening, nevertheless, the melancholic sight of her did not change into the usual rowdy one.

Taking a shy step forward, the other female looked around admiring the untouched nature while breathing the aroma of the vespertine flora surrounding them deep into her lungs. “How gorgeous,” a whisper passed her lips making the ginger set the bottle aside and look back. They both were looking directly into each other's eyes.

“Are you going to join me?” an extended hand offered a cup to the girl on the shore.

As if on a cue, the moment the towel dropped down to the floor, Mereoleona turned her attention to the side gulping down her own cup.

//////////////// THE RED ZONE ////////////////

They sat shoulder to shoulder in water, facing the crescent moon, enjoying each other and the sake. Or so it seemed. Previous teases from the lioness made her partner assume that they will be embracing one another immediately after their bodies came close enough. Unlike her, the ginger was leisurely sipping on sake, talking about things that entirely passed past her ears even if all the concentration was solely on her. The way her lips move, how they touch together, and then part again giving a glimpse of the tongue which should be on her. Her eyes ran through the peaceful silhouette of her lover, going down her collarbone with water droplets racing to the plump chest which seemed as soft as ever, then to the side, muscular arms resting on top of the rocks, long slender fingers tapping on them. She could almost feel them provoking a moan out of her lips as they play with her nipples indulging the idea of seeing her squirm underneath. Mereoleona must have had no clue what was going in her girlfriend's mind. As she has mentioned before, she's bad with human emotions and sometimes, even the great lioness needs to be shown the way.

First a single digit, then a whole palm touched to Mereoleona's cheek and gently cupped it capturing her attention. Just as slowly, keeping her eyes low, she moved onto her Mereoleona's lap and impatiently clung to her neck locking their gazes again.

“Is something the matter?” the ginger's voice void of any distinct emotions questioned.

“Mere...”

A puff of air, hotter than the steam from the hot spring flied out into the air. One of the woman's hands clung to Mereoleona's shoulder when the other was pulling towards her by the neck, then relaxing and letting her slide back down the lioness's legs in a motion which made her tingle with further excitement.

“Could it be that you are having certain cravings right now?”

“Mhm,” was all the girl was able to mutter.

Mereoleona cast her eyes downwards. The clear water allowed her to see the repetitive motion which has not ceased on her lap. Going up, the curves of the younger woman's torso swayed hypnotically, asking to be held. Prominent breasts kept on making contact with hers, both pairs so earnestly excited. Finally, eyes brimming in lust, hunger, passion and most importantly – love. She moved her hand to the girl's lips, traced them gently, “I don't think you want me hard enough,” her eyes creased as she smiled uncovering her white canines. “Prove that you want me, tell me what I could do to stop this growing frustration in you.”

“Your hands... Mere, you know...”

“Show me, what you want them to do, my damsel in distress,” her eyes shimmered and the woman took Mereoleona's hands and slowly made them travel up her tights towards her bottom. “Huh, that's all?”

“Squeeze it.”

Doing as she was told, she squeezed it but seizing the opportunity, also pulled her even closer. The woman's chest and neck were in her reach. “Should I kiss you on the neck?” she chuckled nuzzling her nose closer.

“Bite it.”

“Ha, usually you are annoyed saying I bite too much. But if it pleases you...”

She gripped at the curves she was admiring before as she lovingly left bite marks on her neck and areas around, coming back to leave a more serious mark on each. Every time her lips made contact with the heated skin, she'd peek at the girl gripping her shoulder and now somehow her hair as well. “What if I did this?” her fingers slid across the most sensitive area which was surely wet from more than the water and taking their time, kept a steady pace stroking it.

“Did I prove it to you?” the woman asked catching her breath.

“I am merely giving you a small free-by, you will have to work more to prove yourself.” Mereoleona took back her fingers and licked them. “I can barely taste you, everything washes off. We should go to bed. You walk first.”

Mereoleona sat back waiting, letting the girl rise from her lap quivering. Walking, she stopped to look back only to see two blue irises appraising her backside. When she made it past the door and stood in front of the bed, she could feel the other female behind her leaning forward though eagerly waiting. Mereoleona's hand caught her chin forcing it to the side just a bit more. Their lips joined for a rough kiss which was more becoming for the lioness than the gentle teases out in the pool. One of her hands slid to the front and once again began working its way around the woman's sensitive lower abdomen. Hungrily she pushed her forwards making the two of them topple onto the bed. She inserted one of her fingers inside the woman making her arch her back, pushing her ass up. There was a great deal of frustration involved making this experience more ecstatic than usual. And when she began feeling her premature orgasm coming by shouting Mereoleona's name into the duvet beneath her, the woman took her fingers out. Both of them were panting heavily.

“Didn't we come here so I could taste you properly?” she said grabbing one of the garter belts that flew on the bed earlier. Mereoleona helped her lie on her back after tying her wrists together. “A good knight always sticks to their word,” she smiled again lowering her face to her lover's dripping sweetness. Like a feline, she licked gently, tasting it at first, then again, and again, until her lips were sucking and tugging as her hands held tightly on the woman's hips constantly pulling her sensitively bolting body back.

The cabin drowned in screams of pleasure not even stopping once she orgasmed. Satisfied, Mereoleona pulled back, coming next to her girlfriend and untying her bound arms. The woman had some tears rolling down, “Was it too much?” the lioness asked with a hint of unrest.

“No, you were amazing.” She pulled Mereoleona closer. They kissed not rushing anywhere. Parting, coming back just like the wind passing nocturnal meadows; gently and in waves. “I never knew you were such a great actor,” the two of them laughed.

“It certainly was hard not eating you out then and there. Still... You certainly seem ready for this trip,” she picked a pair of thongs from the pillow. “I would like to see a little show now, would you mind?” Mereoleona extended the garter from before along with the panties. “I am still as hungry as I was moments ago."

#mereoleona vermillion #black clover #mereoleona x reader #tasty

74 notes · View notes

johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 35: Listen, Beloved-

-to the quiet after the storm.

In the aftermath of the nightmare, Tristan and Dorian reach for each other once more.

Read more on AO3! Or read from the beginning

Dorian took in a deep breath as the world slowly solidified around him. It was as if a dense cloud of fog had been lifted and he could finally see, yet the remnants of the nightmare still tugged at the edges of his consciousness.

He pushed himself up on his elbows with a groan. His head felt heavy, his neck stiff, every muscle aching with only the barest movement. The cold light of morning was peeking in through the opening of the heavy burgundy curtains, illuminating the wooden floor in thin streaks of iridescent, kaleidoscopic fractals. As soon as he became aware of his surroundings, he turned to his side, searching for Trevelyan. His eyes were still closed, his forehead shining with sweat, hair and shirt damp and clinging to his skin. Of the wounds he had seen on him in the Fade there was thankfully no sign. That alone made Dorian heave a sigh of relief.

“Amatus,” he whispered, brushing his hair from his brow, when Trevelyan suddenly jolted bolt upright with a gasp. The mark on his hand flared, illuminating the space between them.

“Damn you-” Trevelyan groaned, cradling his hand close to his chest. The side of his face was painted a sickly green when he turned to look at him, green shards of lightning in the dark blue of his eyes. “Dorian,” he panted, wincing in pain when the mark crackled in his palm. “You’re here.”

“Of course,” Dorian said softly, trying to hide the concern in his voice. “Where else would I be?” He watched him anxiously, searching for any signs in Trevelyan’s expression that would betray his thoughts. Did he remember what had happened? Did he remember the nightmare, the demon’s illusions, their battle? Did he remember Dorian’s hand, the way it had curled around his throat?

The thought carved a hole in his stomach. He realised abruptly he didn’t want to know the answers to those questions. He didn’t want to find out whether he remembered any of it; better yet, he wished he did not. What if that was what Trevelyan saw now, every time he looked at him?

Dorian opened his mouth to speak, to say literally anything that would take his mind off that, but before he could utter another word, Trevelyan had shifted his body to face him. He pressed his knuckle under his Dorian’s chin, lifting his gaze up to his own.

“Is it you? Is it really you?”

Dorian let out a slow exhale through his nose. Trevelyan stared at him intently enough to bore a hole in his skull, his nostrils flaring with every panting breath. Dorian swallowed thickly. “Yes. It is me.”

Trevelyan stared at him for a moment longer, then let his hand fall. A tremulous breath left him, his shoulders sagging. His eyes fell closed as he threaded his fingers through his hair. He suddenly looked incredibly weary and pale, a wet piece of cloth that had been wrung dry. “I need a drink,” he mumbled as he rolled out of the bed. His back was glistening, slick with sweat, his hair damp against the nape of his neck like swirls of white gold. He picked up his shirt from the floor where he’d dropped it the night before, before they’d gone to bed.

Fasta vass, Dorian breathed. The night before. When they had made love and then soaked in the tub together, and read poetry to each other. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

He leaned forward and hugged his knees to his chest, watching Trevelyan as he moved about the space. There was a slight stagger to his step, and he swayed lightly when he stopped before the gilded liquor cabinet by the window. The neck of the bottle he picked up clinked against the rim of the crystal glass when he tipped it over it, the amber liquid gurgling as it escaped its confines. The strong, spicy aroma of brandy filled the room. Trevelyan downed the drink, wincing as he swallowed. A strong shudder passed through him, and he pressed the glass against his forehead. “Maker. That’s better.” He sniffed, brushing the back of his hand over his nose. “More now.”

Dorian’s heart clenched while he watched him fill his glass again, then empty it in just a couple gulps. The way he was going, he would be falling flat on his face any moment now. Dorian stood up, pulling his own clothes on before striding towards him. He caught Trevelyan’s wrist before he’d filled his glass for the third time in a row. “I believe that is enough.”

Trevelyan’s gaze was hazy and unsteady when it focused on him, his eyes dark and red-rimmed. There was a hollowness to them, like he had forgotten who he was, where he was, what Dorian was doing there. It was gone in an instant, to be replaced by a frown. He glanced away, pressing his lips together tightly. “Is it?” he asked quietly, not meeting Dorian’s eyes.

“Yes. It is. It won’t do you any good. Trust me. It’s been a long and difficult night, and you spent more time in the presence of a demon than any non-mage ought to. In fact, I don’t know many mages that would have held on for as long as you did against it.” Including myself, he thought bitterly, but swallowed the thought down. This wasn’t about him. It was about Trevelyan. Who wasn’t looking very well right then, all things considered. Dorian may have drunk himself into a stupor more times than he could count, after similar nights, chased by his own demons. Just because he did it though, didn’t mean that he would let Trevelyan do it too. He deserved better.

He swallowed down his bitterness, taking in a deep breath. “One drink is fine,” he continued in as soothing a tone as he could manage, “but any more than that and you’ll weaken your defenses even more. And you need them now, more than ever, both sleeping and awake.”

Trevelyan simply stared at the floor, not saying a word. His wrist hung limply from Dorian’s hand. He didn’t try to pry it out of Dorian’s grip, but he didn’t make any other move either. When neither of them spoke for a long moment, Dorian cleared his throat and took a step back, letting him go. Perhaps it was the way Trevelyan was looking at him, or rather, doing his best not to look at him, like he couldn’t comprehend why Dorian was still there, or the fact that his own voice trembled ever so slightly when he spoke, but he suddenly felt the visceral need to put some distance between them.

“Well. It is positively chilly in here, isn’t it? Can this room ever get warm enough?” he wondered aloud, walking towards the fireplace. He avoided glancing at Trevelyan over his shoulder as he placed log after log on the bed of cold ashes in the hearth. “It must be one of the coldest and dampest ones in the whole keep. Who thought of having the headquarters facing the South? If it weren’t an ancient castle, I would be having a serious conversation with its builder.” With a flick of his fingers, a shy fire started going. Soon, it was crackling merrily, filling the room with its amber glow and slowly, ever so slowly, dispelling the damp that clung to the stone. The coldness that had settled between Trevelyan and him, though, was an entirely different matter.

Dorian stood up, brushing the dust from the knees of his trousers. “Why don’t you come closer? You’ll catch a cold the way you’re standing there. That window’s terribly drafty. Shall I bring you a blanket? I could call for a warm drink to be brought up, if you’d like.”

“Dorian,” Trevelyan started quietly, not meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to fuss over me. I’m fine.”

“Nonsense. You are most certainly not fine. Not after-” His voice broke, and he snapped his lips shut. His guilt rose to the surface when he noticed the weariness in Trevelyan’s features, illuminated by the firelight, the exhaustion that was carving deep lines around his eyes. More, when he remembered how those eyes had looked at him while he was taking the life from him.

The image flashed before his eyes. Dorian’s first instinct was to look away, to brush the memories aside, but he did not. He held on to the last bit of stubborn pride that was left to him. He was not going to turn away from what he had done, he was not going to ignore the dratted druffalo in the room. He was going to point it out for both of them. He was going to own it.

“I believe,” he continued, tilting his chin up ever so slightly, mustering his courage, “that I am allowed to fuss over you after practically trying to kill you. Don’t you think?”

He watched with rising bitterness as Trevelyan flinched visibly. He had not moved from where he was, had not come closer to the fire’s bright warmth. The flames painted the side of his face golden, shadows dancing in the hooded dark of his eyes, obscuring his expression. “You did not try to kill me,” he said slowly, as if the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “That wasn’t you. It was the demon.”

“It was not the demon.” He held his breath, waiting for Trevelyan’s eyes to focus on him before continuing. He couldn’t explain why, but he wanted his full attention. He wanted his eyes on him, he wanted to see the horror that would flash in them after he had admitted to the magnitude of his mistake. Like picking at a wound, tearing it open before it had even managed to heal. “It was me all along. The demon did not tamper with my mind. It laid its webs before me, and I stepped in them willingly. I thought I was protecting you. I was so determined to do absolutely anything to achieve that, that I didn’t stop for a moment to consider the absurdity of it all. It-” He stopped when his throat tightened, but it wasn’t long before he was forging on once more, ignoring the tremor in his voice. He had to admit it, to himself more than anything. “It bested me. Plain and simple. I thought I knew better. I should have known better, but I was outsmarted. I failed, spectacularly so. If Cole hadn’t been there-”

“No.” Trevelyan’s tone was sharp, flat, his hand tightening about the glass in a white knuckled grip. “You can’t think like this, Dorian. You can’t think of what might have been, should have been, could have been; there’s no point. That demon was stronger than both of us. It knew about me. It knew… too much. It knew my desires, my fears, my weaknesses, and it used them. You were just caught in the whirlwind. You and Cole both.” He rubbed the corners of his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, letting out a heavy sigh. “Do you see now,” he asked, “why I wanted you away? Why I asked you to leave, time after time?”

Trevelyan’s gaze focused on him, dark and intent, piercing him to the bone. Dorian opened his mouth. Closed it. He scrambled for words, yet could find none. Perhaps things would have been better if he had listened to him. Perhaps they would have turned out much worse. It was a startling thought, but even so, even after everything that had happened, even if he could turn back time right then, Dorian didn’t think he would ever find it in himself to do as he had been told.

“I… could never have done it,” he admitted at last.

“You should have.” Trevelyan’s tone was not cruel, but his words smarted like a whetted blade. “It was me the demon wanted. It set the stage for my benefit; my peril, rather. It was my responsibility to be rid of it. No one else should be endangered like this because of me. You should have just listened to me. I should have faced it on my own.”

“I could not have done it,” Dorian repeated, taking heart from his own stubbornness. “I could never have done what you were asking of me. To leave you alone in that nightmare- that would have been madness. Someone simply had to be there for you. And that someone happened to be Cole and me.” He sniffed sharply, “ Clearly, I was not the right person for the job. Yet that does not change the fact that there is no way you could have been left alone with that. Maker knows what you would have woken up to, if you ever did. There is too much at stake for you to be facing such dangers ‘on your own’.”

“I know what’s at stake,” Trevelyan almost spat out the words. “I am well aware, believe me. I live with that awareness every day. But to drag you into this, to place you in danger for- for nothing -” he huffed, his lips pressed in a tight line. His fists opened and closed at his sides, the mark pulsing softly. “I won’t allow it. I cannot allow it.”

“For nothing?” Dorian echoed in disbelief. Maker, he could shake him. The words clawed at his throat, and no matter what he did he couldn’t hold them back. They spilled out of him in a torrent. “You think all this was nothing, then? The demon, then nightmare, the illusions it spun? Or do you simply have no regard for your own safety at all, not even a little?”

“What different does it make?” Trevelyan’s eyes flashed in affront. “You shouldn’t have been there, and that’s that. Cole should never have dragged you into it, and I should never have let you stay. It’s not worth it-”

“Not worth it? Vishante kaffas, are you even listening to yourself?”

“Are you listening to me? ” he asked back, fixing him with a hard glare. He was like a spring, all tense, ready to burst forth. “When I told you I didn’t want you there, it was for a reason. I don’t understand. Why do you insist on following me, on risking yourself, over and over-”

“Because I care about you, you infuriating creature!” Dorian snapped, unable to keep his temper in check any longer. His guilt was suddenly gone, burnt away by the wildfire of his anger. “A sentiment we clearly do not share, seeing as you would readily expose yourself to unimaginable dangers without a second thought for your own wellbeing. You think I’m contradicting you on purpose? Please,” he scoffed. “If anyone takes some sort of perverse satisfaction from riling up everyone around them, that would be you. Half the time, it seems like you exist purely for the purpose of vexing me; the rest I wonder why I even bother with you!”

Trevelyan didn’t back away from his outburst; met his fury proudly, blow by blow. His brows were gathered in a scowl when he growled, “If I vex you so bloody much, then you should have just walked away, Dorian!” His cheeks had turned bright pink, his hand curled so tightly about his glass when he swung it in an arc over his head that Dorian thought he would break it. “At least you would have been safe from all the spectacular fucking disasters that seem to follow me wherever I go!”

Dorian gaped at him incredulously, his heart beating in his throat. Trevelyan’s eyes were burning so bright with his anger that they could have set him aflame on the spot, yet he found himself incapable of caring about it. Were they back to this? To this… bickering and arguing and snapping at one another, as if they couldn’t stand each to breathe each other’s air? They always seemed to reach that point sooner or later, didn’t they? Sometimes, it seemed like they could barely last one hour before jumping at each other’s throat over some foolish, or not so foolish reason or other. In some ways, he wondered how they had managed to get past their differences in the first place; in many others, he wondered how long it would be until they wouldn’t be able to get past them anymore.

And yet.

Dorian had been inside Trevelyan’s mind. He’d seen all those moments of happiness and grief, or worry and quiet contemplation, the pain he dragged with him wherever he went, all the things that made him who he was. He’d seen how much he cared. About him. To what lengths he would go, to keep him safe.

His heart swelled in his throat, choking him.

“You think I could bear to leave you alone?” he asked quietly.

Trevelyan’s fury drained away suddenly, all at once, to be replaced by shock. Dorian took in a deep breath, curling his trembling hands into fists. “I know what it’s like, to be alone. To fight alone. I’ve done it for years, for most of my life. All of it, it seems sometimes. I’ve tried to be strong, to shoulder everything on my own, to show the world the face it wanted to see. It is wondrous, and it is horrifying, and every moment I felt like I was drowning. I do not want that for you.” He met Trevelyan’s gaze, willing his voice to stay level. His pulse was beating loudly in his throat; he wondered whether Trevelyan could see it flutter right beneath his skin. He felt naked, stripped bare, and he didn’t care. Was there truly anything else to lose?

Had there ever been?

Read the rest on AO3!

#dorian pavus #dorian pavus x trevelyan #dorian pavus/trevelyan #dorian pavus x inquisitor #dorian pavus/inquisitor #pavelyan #dorian x tristan trevelyan #dragon age fanfiction #a world with you #johaerys writes

16 notes · View notes

polkahotness · 4 years

Text

SHORTAKI WEEK DAY 1

FFN // AO3

Long Gone

Sometimes when I look at Helga, it's difficult to remember what it was like before we admitted our feelings for each other. Granted, Helga had admitted her feelings to me countless times and on numerous different occasions, but I had never been all that great at that sort of thing in response.

I supposed that my 'love language' just wasn't the same as hers and it made navigating through our relationship a tumultuous and difficult process at times.

Helga had always been so good with words—her feelings, though oftentimes hidden deep inside, were always so well-articulated. When she wanted to give up the truth behind them, her sentences were thoughtful; poetic, and they came out of her mouth with ease, despite inwardly struggling with that piece of vulnerability.

But me?

It seemed that I still hadn't quite figured out how to best voice my feelings.

It wasn't that I had a problem voicing them—I had no issue whatsoever telling Helga, Gerald, my next-door neighbor, or the entire world how I felt about her. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that I couldn't do it well. My attempts were often clumsy, and I had the tendency to ramble and stumble over each word like I was once again learning how to speak for the first time in my life.

Thankfully, Helga never held it against me. In fact, her response to my feeble attempts usually sounded something like, "Still struggling with that word thing, are we, footballhead?" Then she'd let out this soft little laugh while I blushed and would open my mouth to try and dispute her, though she never let me get that far. "I get it, babe. You love me. And I love you—" then she'd pause and smack my butt while following it up with, "—and that cute little ass of yours."

A lifetime of confusing feelings had changed a lot in the dynamic between Helga and myself—the last six of those years cementing our relationship in a way that 10-year-old-me could have never imagined.

We were the couple people oogled over. Our stories of the bully and the victim turning into lovers was one for the ages, and we never grew tired of talking about it or reminiscing over the foolish children we once were. While anyone with eyes could see the love that we held for one another, it was always Helga who seemed to vocalize it best. As the self-appointed designated speaker, she was usually the one who told our complicated love story as I draped my arm over her shoulders to hold her into me wherever it was that we sat.

Helga had figured out in our time together that I was the shower, and not the teller. My love for her looked like me making dinner when I knew she had a hard day at work and would be too tired to even heat up a tv dinner. It looked like me rubbing her feet while she lay unsuspecting on the couch with her legs on my lap as we binge-watched another series. My love was shown through buying her that book she'd been talking about for three weeks because it was the long-awaited follow-up to her favorite author's poetry book—and I'd even gotten the limited edition copy with the ornately designed cover and gold-lined pages because, while she'd never say it, I knew she preferred the special copy over the boring (and cheaper) paperback version.

It was all of those little things and more that told Helga how much I loved her. But all of those little things could never express what I needed to tell her next. The emotions and feelings I had to say this time around would require me to put my strengths of showing and my weaknesses of telling together so I could be bolder than I'd ever been before.

Because there was nothing in the world that I wouldn't do for her.

It may have taken us a while to realize just how deeply our love for one another went. Even after we'd admitted our feelings, we struggled to get to a place where we mutually realized we were each other's end game. I'm sure Helga already knew this fact because she seemed to have always known, even when we were children, but me? It had taken me much longer.

With Helga, I was always just a few steps behind.

But it was okay.

Helga always managed to wait patiently…always somehow knowing that I was making my way to her.

Throughout our years of syncopated dating habits, a funny thing happened that I could never push away. Helga never left my mind. No matter where I was or what I was doing with who, Helga always remained. It may have taken until we both hit 21 for the stars to officially align, but that night six years ago when we reconnected on our favorite bar's balcony that overlooked the bright lights of Hillwood… that night forever changed my life.

I could only hope it would provide that same luck tonight as we stood together, once again, on the bar's balcony while looking out at our hometown on a quiet autumn evening.

"You know, Arnoldo," Helga said after taking a swig from the bottle she was holding, "I was kind of surprised you wanted to come to this joint on our anniversary of all days."

Smirking at her statement, I shrugged my shoulders. "The balcony here is nice. I like looking out at the city, don't you?"

"Well, sure," she replied while focusing her attention out on the dotted lights of the faraway buildings that made up the skyline. "But we could have easily done it from somewhere less…" Twisting her body, she glanced behind herself towards the hubbub of noise from within the bar. Turning back around, she returned her gaze outward while finishing her sentiment. "I don't know, somewhere less… cheesy."

"Cheesy?" I intoned while eyeing her carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know," she simply said while fixating her eyes ahead without so much as a flinch in my direction. "Taking me to the same place where we first 'officially' rekindled our relationship. I guess I would have thought you'd pick some fancy-pants restaurant to propose to me at."

My jaw instinctively dropped as I stared at Helga with my mouth agape.

Slowly she turned her head to look at me with a wicked grin. "I like the sentimentality part though," she offered as some kind of consolation prize. "But if you were to take us back somewhere and be all romantic by talking about the past, I would have chosen P.S 118 or something. Now that's a good throwback."

I was still in shock as she spoke; my mind not comprehending that Helga had so easily figured out my plans and then called me out on them without so much as a care in the world.

It seemed that, yet again, Helga was still one step ahead of me.

"But you… how did you… but," I shook my head while struggling to force out a somewhat-coherent response. "Didn't you, how could you have—"

"Arnold," she deadpanned, though a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of her lips, "You were at Gerald's for four hours the other day. You really think I didn't hear about your little 'plans' from Phoebe?"

"Phoebe told you?" I repeated in shock. "Phoebe. She's smarter than that, Helga. Why on earth would she think it was okay to tell you something this important?!" I exclaimed and Helga remained unphased; merely tilting her head in thought before looking away from me again.

Casually, she explained, "I never said she thought it was okay. I mean, criminy, I practically had to force it out of her."

"And you did that because…?"

Helga let out a chuckle before fully turning her entire body to face me directly. "I've been waiting for you to propose to me for years now, Arnold. Years." I could feel heat beginning to rise and fill in my cheeks. "Honestly, I was about ready to propose to you, and then Phoebe kept telling me that I couldn't do that because our anniversary was coming up so then I told her that it was the perfect time to propose, then one thing led to another and—"

"She didn't actually tell you, then, did she." I finished for her in a statement rather than a question, and Helga let out a heavy sigh.

"She didn't have to tell me," Helga said with a twinge of humor beneath her tone. "By the way she acted, I knew immediately what you were up to."

Silence settled between us and I fought the urge to explode in anger, frustration, and sheer disappointment. How was it that I was still so incapable of surprising Helga? How was it that even after all of this time, I was still that dense little boy unable to catch up to Helga and be the first to admit something for once.

How was it that I was somehow perpetually in the fourth grade, avoiding acting on my feelings?

Impulsively, I grabbed Helga's hand and began pulling her towards the inside of the bar, "C'mon," I told her as she followed along with an inquisitive set of eyes. "We're going somewhere."

"Where?" She scoffed out. "I thought you were going to ask me to marry you…"

"Oh, I am," I answered immediately and in a firm tone. "But I'm not doing it here."

"Ahh, a field trip, I see," Helga replied as we dodged and weaved our way through the drunken crowd of dancers cluttering the small bar. "And just where is it you have decided to take me for this romantic gesture?"

"Somewhere you won't be expecting this time," I told her with about 86% certainty. "At least… I hope."

As she set her half-empty bottle on a table that we passed by in pursuit of the door out, we finally exited the bar and began making our way down the sidewalk. I led us forward with determination while Helga trailed along in my wake; her longer legs allowing her to keep at my pace with ease.

"Seriously, what are you up to, Hair Boy?" Her tone was becoming almost nervous, and it only heightened my confidence that this new destination was where I should have brought her in the first place. It was a deep-seeded memory that we hadn't discussed since we were teenagers. This had to be the perfect place for a proposal.

This had to be it.

Continuing to drag her along, Helga's eyes shifted to take in her surroundings. Her brows furrowed as she tried to piece together the strange environment that I was leading her through—an old part of Hillwood that had been long forgotten. Most everything on each block had either been abandoned or demolished; the promises of new complexes and mini-malls now only graffitied rubble lost to the recent economic recession.

"Do you even know where we are?" Helga continued to try and coax my true purpose out of me. "You do realize that if we're lost, I am not paying for the taxi back."

It was a backhanded joke that signaled Helga was out of her element. I knew her tactics by now and she was currently baffled as to what was in store. The fact that I was going to propose tonight was already out in the open and there was no pretending it wasn't still going to happen. The way it was going to happen, however… now that was going to be vastly different.

I just hoped I was going to be able to pull it off. I didn't exactly have the greatest track record with speaking my feelings on the fly, but maybe that was for the best. In fact, by doing this completely unrehearsed, Helga would know that my words—as jumbled and clunky as they may come out—would be directly from the heart, my heart. Unrehearsed. Unpolished. Unfiltered.

Pulling Helga to a stop as we reached the corner of an unassuming block hidden in the outskirts of Hillwood, the two of us stood in place in front of a small building. Inside the window was a faded, 'For Lease' sign, and the cement that made up the foundation was filled with cracks that had allowed wild weeds to spurt from the ground and wiggle their way up towards the sky. At first glance, the building was old and decrepit—absolutely nothing special and certainly not somewhere worthy of a marriage proposal.

Glancing around at where I'd brought her, Helga eyed the building carefully before slowly turning to face me. "An abandoned building? What's so special about this place? There's nothing here."

"Exactly," I answered as Helga's brow raised in curiosity. "There isn't anything here. Not now, anyway." Looking over my shoulder, I gestured towards the dilapidated structure before continuing my thought. "It's been a lot of different things in the past, though."

"Oh really?" Helga humored me while letting go of my hand to cross her arms loosely over her chest. "Like what?"

"A clothing boutique. A tailoring company. I'm pretty sure there was a craft store in here too at one point—"

"What in the hell does any of that have to do with—" Helga interrupted, though I didn't allow her to keep talking.

Instead, I finished my sentence by asserting dominance and talking over her as she unsuccessfully tried to speak over me. "—but before all of that, this was a daycare."

Helga's eyes widened minimally, though she remained silent as if to give me the chance to continue.

And that's exactly what I did.

"Not so much a daycare as it was a pre-school, though."

More silence settled between us as Helga's eyes drifted from mine to look at the run-down building she hadn't recognized. "Urban Tots," she muttered out as though it were an afterthought rather than a declaration of acknowledgement.

At her fixation towards our old pre-school, I took the opportunity to shakily get down on one knee; my hand fumbling to reach the small box I'd been hiding inside the pocket of the jeans I was wearing. Pulling it out, Helga's eyes returned to me; water gathering at the base of her vision as she looked down at me with laser-focus.

"Helga," I began precariously, though I tried to keep myself calm as I turned the blue-velvet box over and over in my hands anxiously. "As you've proven tonight, you are and always have been one step ahead of me. Since the moment we met, something in you had the wherewithal to know that we weren't just classmates in some random neighborhood in a random city in this random universe we find ourselves living in. Something inside of you knew that we were more than that. It knew… you knew that we were so much more, that we were… that we are, soulmates."

"Arnold," Helga breathed out, but I held up a finger to stop her from saying anything else and throwing me off of my groove.

"Do you remember when we were fifteen?" I started and Helga smirked while staring at me incredulously. "You told me that you had loved me from the moment you first saw me which, to be fair, wasn't the first time you'd told me that, but I asked you when that was, when you had first seen me."

A small laugh escaped Helga as she recalled the moment I was referencing. "You'd never asked me that before. It was a stupid question."

"Not really," I countered while adjusting from where I knelt on the pavement; my knee suddenly telling me that I'd chosen the wrong time to begin kneeling. Unfortunately, it was definitely too late now to get back up, so I instead took a deep breath to calm my angry kneecap and proceeded with my story. "It's funny because the memories that I have of you and things you've done or random conversations and moments we've shared… they're different than your memories."

"How do you figure?" Helga pressed and I knitted my brows together while trying to find the most effective way to explain my thoughts.

"You have a whole other set of memories that I don't remember because, at the time, they didn't mean anything to me yet. Just like some of my memories don't align with yours because they weren't as significant to you as they were to me in that moment." I took in a sharp breath before finalizing, "A lot of your memories are different because you've known about us a lot longer than I ever did."

"Long before there even was an us, you dingus," Helga chuckled out, and I rolled my eyes at her comment.

"Anyway," I emphasized before pressing onward. "You told me all about that day, that day back at Urban Tots when we apparently first met—a memory I had never actively remembered but suddenly did as you told your side of the story. It was one of the first times you broke down that wall, completely destroyed it to bare your soul to me without insults or nicknames or jokes to cover up the raw truth. You told me about what happened before you got to the pre-school, about Olga and your parents and the rain and your lunch and-and…"

I had to stop myself because the rambling had begun to rear its ugly head. Taking a moment to collect myself, I inhaled deeply before re-routing my conversational direction so I could get back on track with the task at hand.

"I never forgot that story," I admitted while looking down at the ring box I was still playing with in my grip. "You went back to the casual bullying and nicknames, both of us knowing how we felt about each other, but I never forgot that story. Each night I'd lay in my bed staring up through the skylight at the stars and imagine that memory I'd forgotten over and over again. Your pink overalls covered in mud. That sad look in your eye. It was like you'd never been loved… like you didn't know what it meant to be loved or to love another person."

Helga chewed on her lip for a moment as though trying to find the right thing to say—something she didn't typically struggle with. After a moment, she settled on, "What's your point. Aren't proposals supposed to be romantic or something? Not some… excuse to go drudging up my messed-up past and all of the memories that I've worked really hard to forget—"

"I know, I know," I tried to subdue her before she could indulge any further in the anger that was rapidly bubbling up inside of her. "What I am saying, is that the little girl who stood right here all of those years ago… that unloved toddler is gone now, Helga. She's long gone, okay?"

Her deep azure gaze bore into me as I kept talking; my knee now completely numbed from any pain or feeling as my body began to follow suit from nervousness alone. "The woman who stands before me isstill the same feisty, stubborn, thoughtful, smart, talented… and amazing person she has always been, but unloved?" I shook my head a couple of times. "That girl from long ago and the woman of now and forevermore is not unloved. She never will be or feel unloved, ever again. And that's something that I can and do promise you."

With that, I at last presented the box and carefully opened it to reveal a golden engagement ring with an opal at its center. Surrounding the stone was a halo of small diamonds; the ring itself appearing as the most dazzling of flowers attached to a plain gold band. The ring sparkled effortlessly under the glow of the moonlight, though the sky threatened its romantic lighting with oncoming and fast-moving storm clouds.

As Helga's eyes went back and forth between the ring and myself, I kept talking; the next set of words something I had always planned to say no matter where I ended up proposing. "Helga G. Pataki, you have been my bully for as long as I can remember. You teased me relentlessly and never stopped giving me attention, no matter how much I thought I didn't want it. You confessed to me time after time that you loved me and yet, even after all of this time, I've never confessed how I feel to you—at least, not entirely. So, I guess… well… here goes."

Nodding her head for me to keep going, she pressed her lips together in a tight line as though trying to hold back the tears I could see pooling in her eyes.

"I love you. I'm head over heels, wildly, desperately, endlessly in love with you, Helga," my words were earnest; genuine. Each sentence I said with the utmost care and sincerity. "I don't just want to have you in my life, I need you in my life. I need your nicknames, your teasing, your each and every thought, your embrace… your everything because you are my everything. And this ring—" I took it out of its box and held out the specifically-chosen engagement ring for her approval, "—I chose it for a reason."

"The opal," I said while using my other hand to point to the main stone, "it's iridescent. It looks like one color, but it never really ever stays that way. It changes and evolves and looks different under whatever light is shining on it—and yet it always somehow stays the same. And that's us. That's our love. We've always loved each other. It may have looked different as we grew, but it's always been there. And if you marry me… I promise that it will always continue to be there."

Swallowing hard, Helga let out a tidbit of her own, "I thought opals had to do with love and passion," she paused for a moment before adding, "and desire. Seduction. Are you trying to get in my pants, Shortman?"

"Always," I admitted which made Helga giggle; a few stray tears jiggling loose from her laughter. "But yes, those are the other reasons why I picked it. Every time you look down at this stone, you will know that I love you. That I desire you and to be with you. That I want you passionately in every meaning and interpretation of the word. That I will be faithful, and loyal until my very last breath. With this ring… I promise that you will never, ever, ever spend another second of your life being a muddy little girl who doesn't know what love is. I will spend every moment of my life proving to you and showing you and making up for all of those times when you needed love and didn't have it."

The two of us stared at each other as I held the ring out towards her, my arm growing more tired with each second that passed. Our eyes remained locked on one another as eons, and decades, and lifetimes seemed to happen while I agonized over her answer. Why wasn't she saying yes? I'd shown her the ring… she knew what I was doing… so why hadn't she accepted yet? Was she not going to accept? Worry fluttered through my mind as a sudden thought filled my senses, What if she doesn't want to get married?

As I lost myself in my thoughts, the clearing of Helga's throat brought me back to reality; her eyes no longer wet with tears and instead looking down at me skeptically. "Hey Arnold?" She asked me and I blinked my eyes a couple of times to refocus my attention on the current moment. "I'd love to say 'yes' here and put on this super sexy and seductive ring you've so thoughtfully picked out for me—"

"Well, my mom helped…"

"Of course Stella did," Helga affirmed with a smirk before sucking in a deep breath of air. "But the whole point of a marriage proposal, as nice as your words were and all… well, you kind of left out one very, very important part."

"…huh?" was all I could manage as I stared up at her in horror.

A sly smile spread across Helga's face. "You haven't actually asked me anything yet."

"Oh god," I mumbled while shutting my eyes in utter embarrassment. "Oh, god, I just… I got so caught up in all of this and then I kneeled way too early—"

"I know!" Helga exclaimed in amusement. "Your knee must be killing you right now."

"Eh," I quickly dismissed, "I stopped having feeling in my kneecap about a minute in so you might need to help me up—"

"Because you're an old man, now. Yeah, I know," Helga teased before sighing and tilting her head slightly. "You're only getting older the longer you wait, Footballhead."

"Yeah. Yes, of course. Right. Okay," pushing through the numbness of my knee and the nervousness I still felt for no reason at all, I held the ring out once again and looked deep into Helga's ocean blue eyes. "Helga G. Pataki. Will you marry me?"

Her smile widened to reveal a toothy grin. "Criminy, Arnold. I thought you'd never ask."

As I slipped the ring onto its new home of Helga's finger, she helped to yank me up from where I'd potentially done permanent damage to my left knee.

I didn't even care.

From where the two of us kissed under the moonlight at what remained of Urban Tots Pre-School, I knew that the Helga and Arnold who had once occupied this exact spot years ago were long gone. And as the sky at last opened up, allowing buckets of rain to downpour on us, we laughed while getting soaked to the bone because this time, the rain itself didn't matter.

The only umbrella Helga needed was one made entirely of love. And, just like when we were mere toddlers, I was happy to provide it for her. Not only in the rain, but through every storm we may weather and every warm day that is enjoyed safely under the shade.

For Helga, I was prepared to hold that umbrella over her for the rest of our lives.

And I couldn't wait.

#shortaki #shortakiweek #shortakiweek2020 #shortaki week 2020 #shortaki week #hey arnold #heyarnold #helga g pataki #helga pataki #arnold shortman #helga and arnold #helga x arnold #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfic

82 notes · View notes

kimjoongs-main · 4 years

Text

—all hallows eve ; pjs

member park jisung

genre fantasy au/fluff

word count 2.6k

warning(s) n/a

dia’s note finally we get to meet our resident bookseller! i was kind of on the fence about posting this since i’m not completely satisfied, but i’m learning to be less critical of my works so here it is lol, hope you enjoy!

Known for his flawless knowledge of each and every one of the books amongst the shelves, the young bookseller has certainly made a name for himself in the kingdom. He was undoubtedly adored by the locals and travelers alike—magical beings or otherwise.

Meet the other residents of Wisteria

Jisung’s time at the bookshop first started when he was fourteen. His father, a very powerful mage, was unfortunately killed in the Great War when Jisung was only ten years old. His mother, a mere human, had left long before Jisung could comprehend who she was and what she was supposed to mean to him.

He was never given the opportunity to learn about her.

It wasn’t taboo, per se, for those born from magic to be involved with humans. But it was quite rare, and those who chose to pursue their desires for each other were often met with scandalized glares from both sides.

Jisung’s parents met at his mother’s flower shop. His father used to work for the Crown, and he had wandered in, seeking a bouquet to purchase as a gift. The Queen had just announced her pregnancy with her first child, and the entire castle was frantic in their search for a congratulatory gift. Knowing of her affinity for flora, Jisung’s father made his way to the kingdom’s renowned flower shop, not expecting to fall in love with the maiden hidden behind the leaves.

Because of the absence of any other parental figure in his life, Jisung had no other choice but to move in with his uncle.

Well, he wasn’t really his uncle.

The man in question was a good friend of Jisung’s father, a fellow mage, who also happened to be the owner of the town’s beloved bookshop, Novelty Novels. Unlike any other bookshop in the six kingdoms, this one had novels, novelas, and anthologies graced with magical properties—each unique for every book.

A tale about romance would be laced with a charm that would occasionally release a sweet yet bitter scent, allowing the reader to live vicariously through those who were unfortunate enough to be star-crossed lovers. A tale of mystery and wonder would occasionally have clues appear in the margins—subtle enough as to not give away the ending, but inducing enough to push the reader in the right direction.

Jisung wasn’t much of an avid reader, but he did take it upon himself to become familiar with every single book on the shelves: their content, their magical properties, and their location. He thought it would allow for a more efficient interaction with the customers should they need any assistance.

And it certainly made his life easier.

After an eternity and a half, Jisung finally finished bagging up the last few purchases. As soon as the door closed and the shop lacked any sort of physical presence, the young boy sighed. Too tired to leave his post, Jisung waved his hand in a circular motion and the sign on the door flipped, presenting the words–

Closed: Please come back tomorrow.

He internally winced at the thought of his uncle finding out he used magic without his permission. It was only a small amount though, barely substantial enough to cause any real damage.

He would be fine.

Leaning back on the counter behind him, Jisung reached over to the side and gently caressed the soft, white lump of fur resting on the nearby windowsill. Said lump wriggled at the contact, moving about to reveal a pair of ears, a rosy button nose, and four wispy whiskers—two on each side of the nose. Jisung smiled, allowing the bunny to hop across his arm and settle comfortably on his shoulders.

He nuzzled his nose into her fur and sighed, eyes droopy.

The sun was just about to set beneath the horizon, and people in the square were beginning to light the torches outside their shops, blissfully unaware of the ashy clouds looming over them. Usually, the bookshop would stay open for a few hours more, but ever since Jisung’s uncle left for his trip, leaving the poor boy to run the shop on his own, he was given the grace to close up earlier than usual—much to Jisung’s delight.

With the extra time he had to spare, he would usually spend it at the Harrownight Inn and enjoy a warm, steamy bowl of Mark’s specialty soup. Or he would bring his bunny, Mabel, to Chenle’s menagerie and let her play around with his creatures.

Crack.

Jisung flinched, skirting away from the window sharply. Mabel, who had just begun to doze off on her owner’s shoulder, was positively perplexed as she hopped onto the counter, foot thumping loudly on the wood to express her indignation. Jisung muttered a soft ‘sorry’ and gently patted her head, letting his fingers run over her silky fur.

He heard shouts and complaints from outside and walked over to the door, peering through the clear glass. Large droplets of rain poured down on the streets, slamming against the cobblestone pathways and soaking the front of the other shops. Jisung snickered when he saw Jeno a few feet away. The poor baker was frantically scrambling to open the door to the bakery—all while balancing a tray of pastries on his other hand.

Jisung shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and stepped away from the door, moving toward one of the chairs in the back of the shop and plopping down on it. The sound of quiet, yet rhythmic, pitter-patters followed, and soon Mabel was clambering up Jisung’s leg. Her owner chuckled as he bent down and carefully scooped her up in his arms, resting her against his chest.

“It looks like we’ll have to visit Chenle some other day,” he sighed.

— — —

You cursed under your breath, feet picking up speed as you darted through the empty streets. You frantically tugged your hood over your head, pulling it so that it covered half of your face.

The rain was beating down hard, and you instantly regretted not accepting the lovely tea owner’s offer to stay in her shop and wait for the rain to pass. You had simply bid her farewell, darting out of the shop and bumping into a few individuals during your hasty exit.

The inn was at the other end of the square, but you could barely make out the path ahead of you—hidden behind a dense veil of fog. At this rate, you’ll end up back at the inn with more bruises and scratches than when you first came.

Choosing safety over comfort, you dashed to the nearest shop, seeking refuge underneath the awning. Sore and tired from holding your hood up, your arm fell limply at your side, and you collapsed onto the wooden door behind you. Tiny droplets of rain dripped down your fingertips and into the puddle next to your feet. The cobblestone streets were absolutely drenched, and you internally winced at the thought of what would’ve happened if you had kept running.

Most of the townspeople had already retreated into their shops—not a single person left wandering the streets. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes flitting over the sign above the door.

Novelty Novels

You recognized the name—a few of Renjun’s spellbooks and Mark’s recipe books were tagged with it. Taking a closer look inside, you spotted rows upon rows of bookshelves—lined in neat, straight lines starting from one end of the shop to the other. The shelves were completely stocked with books of all genres and sizes, leaving no room in between. The lamps in the shop were still flickering, so you softly knocked on the wooden door, hoping that someone was still inside and they would let you take refuge until the rain cleared.

You waited for a few seconds, eyes darting back and forth, checking to see if there was a person walking up to the door.

You, however, certainly weren’t expecting that person (or not person in this case) to be a small bunny, hopping along the wooden floorboards. It appeared between a row of shelves, making its way towards the entrance in a zig-zag motion. As soon as it got close enough, you bent down and tapped the glass gently, grabbing the creature’s attention.

It traveled over to where your hand made contact with the glass and nuzzled its nose against. A tender giggle bubbled from your lips as you easily became charmed by the darling little critter. In fact, you were so entranced with the bunny that you failed to notice a pair of legs standing right behind it.

A tiny shriek sounded from your throat as the door was suddenly thrust open, sending you tumbling into the puddle right behind you. You winced at the feeling of water soaking through your coat and garments.

“Oh–I am terribly sorry! A-Are you all right?” A gentle, but firm hand gripped your upper arm, pulling you up from the ground. You patted down your legs, ridding your clothing from any dirt or leaves that may have gotten stuck to them.

In front of you stood a boy, whom you assumed was the store’s shopkeep, looking at you with the most concerned gaze. His eyebrows were pulled together, and his lips were set in a small frown. He had his hands hovering over you—not quite sure what to do with them. You took notice of the bunny that was no longer on the ground, but on his shoulder instead. Its eyes were peering curiously at you, and as if it shared the same sentiment as the boy before you, the tiny creature gracefully hopped into your own shoulder.

The boy gasped as he reached out, plucking the bunny off your shoulder and holding it up in front of his face.

“Mabel, where are your manners?” the young shopkeep scolded, lips set into a deep frown. His bunny, Mabel, just scrunched her nose up and proceeded to wriggle out of his grasp, landing gracefully on the wooden floorboards.

The shopkeep focused his attention back to you, bowing slightly.

“My apologies—Mabel is a very ‘act first, think later’ type of creature. Please pay no heed to her unrestrained nature. It seems I have been quite lax with her training.”

You smiled softly at the conflicted expression on the boy’s face, reaching up to tug the strings of your coat loose. You neatly folded the fabric over your forearm, staying mindful of the dark, wet patch near the hem.

“No need to apologize,” you assured him. “I’m sure she, nor you, meant no harm.”

At the mention of what happened earlier, the shopkeeper’s ears flushed a deep red as he stiffly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ahh yes—I truly did not mean to startle you. I just wanted to know if you would like to come in.” He gestured to the ongoing cascade of rain hitting the streets. “I doubt being out here is anything more than pleasant.”

You laughed breathlessly, running a hand through your damp hair.

“I certainly would appreciate that, thank you,” you said kindly. The shopkeeper smiled back (albeit not as enthusiastically) and motioned for you to enter.

Once the door was shut, you released a sigh of relief, grateful to be surrounded by the warmth of the shop. You took a quick peruse of the interior, enthralled by its cozy and inviting atmosphere. The ceiling was coated with intricate designs, swirling and curling over the dark wood as it traveled down to the floorboards. The twisted staircase in the back of the store was almost obscured by the rows of shelves, but you didn’t miss the array of flora weaving in and out of the bars and railings.

(If you had looked close enough, you would have noticed the way they shimmered under the glow of the lamplights.)

Directly in front of you, in the midst of all the literary clusters, was the front desk. The surface itself was clean and polished, but judging from the pile of novels and documents peeking out from behind the desk, you saw it as a product of hastiness and the desire to clean. You slyly glanced over at the young shopkeeper, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

You couldn’t fault him for that—you were the same way. The haphazard pile of paintbrushes and parchments back at the inn served as a testament to that statement.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” the shopkeeper began, wringing his hands together nervously. “But you’re taking residence at Harrownight, correct?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and tilted your head to the side. “How did you know?”

“I saw you chatting with Mark when you first came in,” he said. “When I noticed you crouching outside my shop, I recognized your face and that’s why I let you in.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So are you saying that if you hadn’t recognized me, then you wouldn’t have let me in?”

The words sounded accusatory, but there was hardly any real bite to them. You just wanted to observe his reaction, finding yourself instantly charmed by his innocent nature. You bit back a giggle at the way his eyes widened comically at the statement. He brought his hands up, waving them back and forth in an attempt to defend his case.

“N-No, of course not! I was just trying to–”

You held your hand up, effectively cutting him off. Gentle laughs tumbled from your lips.

“It was merely a jest,” you assured. “I appreciate the hospitality. I’ve noticed it’s quite common amongst you kingdom folk.”

You thought back to your first encounter with Mark, and the way he did everything he could to ensure you were comfortable. Even Renjun, with his snarky persona, was thoughtful and considerate in his own way; you vaguely registered the light weight of the salve in your satchel.

The shopkeeper finally smiled, a genuine one. “Yes, we take pride in making sure that travelers have a pleasant stay in the capital. It can be quite burdensome for those from the countryside to adapt to a bustling city like Wisteria.”

He peered at you, big brown eyes shining with curiosity. “Speaking of, where exactly did you journey from?”

It was a question you should have expected—you were a traveler after all—but that didn’t make answering it any easier. If you were being honest, you couldn’t remember the last time you were blessed to be in the comfort of a home, your own or otherwise. After the Great War, thousands of people and creatures were left unsupported and had no choice but to leave. They became aimless wanderers traveling through the country in search of a purpose once again—you were one of them.

You didn’t have a simple answer, so you took the easy way out.

“I’m from the East.” You smiled warily. “My family and I lived on the outskirts, a few miles from Aurora.”

The shopkeeper’s face dawned in understanding, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Ahh yes, Aurora is a wonderful kingdom. Well, I hope your stay in Wisteria is more than enjoyable.”

He leaned in closer, bringing his hand up cup around his mouth, resembling the image of gossiping maidens in the corner streets.

“And please do not hesitate to come to me if Mark’s service is anything but adequate. I will make sure he hears it from me.” The young boy finishes off with a wink, making you burst into a fit of laughter.

He stuck his hand out sharply, scrunching his nose up endearingly. “I’m Jisung, pleased to make your acquaintance. And uh, well you’ve already met Mabel.”

You took his hand in yours, shaking it. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m Y/n.”

You were fairly certain this wouldn’t be the last time you stepped foot into the shop.

#nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #jisung #park jisung #jisung scenarios #jisung imagines #jisung au #all hallows eve

55 notes · View notes