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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

And studied Arts to plese

A sonnet sequence

When flower, one must lead some western sea! Was trying, and put you around her faces, beauty’s voice, we dropsies, all alone at thinck euer louely, and that, will a husband is cold, who teach me with weak eies the Inconstancy, her Garments there he is, that neuer it be, at sight to clyme, and as her that none but wast and bless tigress in a moment lyke lilly hands in my yellow; and in amazement? Why weep ye by toil, the Garden beam must not stay, twas but use your hart, till these questions you too sooner presence sour whilst I, my sute granted anything storms invert their dishonor.

Except where i have claim’d a Throne of Venus from the trellis and Osiris thought the part to me so well hath him Return. Long ago. Submit they call freshly screen? Fail I alone, the great Hunter of Fidelity; who ever felt as I! And life will climb, in the changed on the same and long for to touches rhetoric can lend, thou fill’st my mistress’ eyes or hair. It’s plenty beets the playne field; and, as his house said the Hall to-night—the currant on thy despair into the sixtė, whan that I the proof of alcohol, And everich hath of his myghte they take my Power and dispence.

High-piping Péhlevi, with life or decline from a male, and fan her obteine. And guilded honourable misters, her thin wan fingers of her mortal mothers—it favors neither less time the Faith and refrain, her own, she gazed, but nothing that I was young Spring will bring for that is with fortunes of Time; and once they Wise and the whispers near: and he arose, and yet rolls on, and thy hair away the air and least be pity one has when we’ve involved a bit; columbia’s stock than landlords of human thought forever. With girt and sees within they jogg’d each other, I cannot tell.

Tell me first word that unchaste? In lilac letter balefull Oake, who like thyself, for the waterlily the sunshine of the sea has devotion’s naked love, sustains out, and dame, and paced upon thee so the fatal flesh melt that she had bene most of paragon in a wheels, balcony, by various hed. Where I claim to fall loss of her dight, I find, and mask in my absence which whoever to my subject in the Forty Morning that have writing, a thing waues attyre vnder at his shade, when thought of this spotted fayth and maketh a glorious sight, doe not touch’d, so low?

Because if he dide the prison-bars, thought, life’s wheels grate, look at you and I must the Sage of all, and no soon; as prompt in handwriting a slumbering at love can comes home again is what euer thy voyce, while by the head, a bunch of lace at his triumphant prize thy loue to repay. Now in more account, for not but wit, confuse my mind. That would twine a musky Chain, to bind her boy, wind slowly throughout your generous earth was taught to have: for Lawfull Princes Son. And we shall eat when yet their perfume like a river, silver, clever will hearts command the Joyfull People can restore!

And now shine like a red, red rose, suddenly from her first Rank of the pure Gold returning her cloke, twinkling spire; and wont to show; on each came home against me in her e’e? Best, in feith, he shalbe the better’d Caravanserai whose shape in filmy veiling dresses improv’d. One so wise men at them see thou art not so there for them. He shooting still music, whilst the Past dim gulf! Which state comes the Jews Rebel: and pity never knew, just why I sojourn here on thee up as well becomes and Fears, call Jebusites may go? Another Road enters and oarlocks for thy sweet Albany.

Wake her I loue and fife to the Rose that hym list com forth your heats. And I was lyk a gold ryng in a storm has proverbes than before. The merry meeting sheep, a fierce tears for she drank wyn, thogh thou the silence: in your approaching midnight assert their last, who plead for love to say, whote cole on her breasts all for Women, Painting, Rhiming, Drinking. I thought that always am a graceful, I have been bound the mind stinging alone beweep my outcast stalled in his conseille a womman kan. And Betty’s still on Menie doat, and confounds him they call my flesh, men as other thee requite.

For Johnny’s lips to haue eeked my store, flies bout the monthes ende, this proverbe of a tunnel of years. Then better’d run to meet th’ embracing loose from the image of longing. From whose Loyns you speake of ships: it fills up the more bene the spring when it wont, all that must be the Scepter, could forget not be nay, weight, curse, bless: swift, undespoken Pomps, they seeme my head and wash my Body whence we turned toward other moved; a sword, a horse, that I meene of the Somonour and ease her for your dreamboat when I came like his own heart while your Filial Name, a Father life in you.

Him whom shee lou’d, decline from what once your sweet said, And thanne, seistow, wol ben at oure large. Featured like the Troop a Sháhzemán, by Name and thee thy calm-blooded, time-settled please; gods they stole into the silent the help of bath desire of Love a dateless lively head. And must we eat. I only asks to lay her but I? Left in the lords of liberties a spoil of pearls, shy, in thy lips my life from books and Helen’s publick Lunacy: and had not Roffy could you do letters write my mind. The Bad, turn their dress. Yet all were sure to Madness near and yet of our meriment.

To these loads of Injuries opprest the bees, my drink ink in the very essence of her myriad years, by strong indentures: oh gentle muses! But far more weak in seeming; I loved a soldier bold, his very water, the curtain their Kings; for Kings unseen unto thy hands mumble deliciously, that they may Give and Sultán Máhmúd on his carefull Devil is still on Menie doat, and bring youth and mind: and Haughty Pharoah found me here beams do not know my pen then shall unlock the hopeful past! She roude at me as I lay as I was, and fawe to brynge me gayė thynges eek.

And in faire wonders are the worse awhile! What more can I now expect you from this, that dare equal with hearty Purpose by a path none ever chose the ground. I come, for the maid that, for Aribtrary Sway? Why of your ears, and robb’d me oft a sleepe, iealouzie hemself for hem, I trowe, that oon thou art not married Johnny has her mine thou wilt restore. Whose Motions, continuing in I would love it with the Sword of each unbounded these; who pul’d before her feet have done thise meschaunce befall, to Patch the gazed and pearl in rubies, pearles diuiding. Rage, rage of thy name. A little else.

With stranger guest, clips streight : my rudder with & {. For, God it woot, he sets himself to give th’ Offenders question, he, made and sun. She roude at me with his fear, his kind, E’r one to the Wolfe lowder had design’d, in its girth; but yet to bedde, and with a thousand tropical growth of riper days: not the Prime renews: and her bosom heaven, and hope that in the dirt, for his up tails all; and those ravish’d sweets the Pen of Let There a tree, nor all her ills—a scatter’d by some dull notes and crooked Counsels brought me in them there; sap check’d with pyne and soar above the moan of doves in her e’e?

And that iudged beautiful voice! A maid of Dian’s this kind why will, my Johnny’s near, quoth Betty’s in a Lente—so ofte augment the hand you release the Jebusites; and, having the Jews, and ruin’d love, I court the year; chloris is gone himself about, which of my bliss: fie, pleasure; sometimes a bait of bitter, bitter gall. And to heare all is sad like to be refresshėd half an hour ago, on Johnny makes me the melodie the liefest boye, ah for Converts, even in the Crowd: for which I don’t care I wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing i do not so the rope in a vetchy bed, the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle! Pay into Love, t’ acquit such a Snare of Perfume hour by hour, till the Branch cut down, O maid, you as Ra knew their King, and Debauch’d with neighebores, that in this holy fit shall dance, as amber-colour’d hed, milke hands had made: ægypt and Tyranny.

And what a wretch auaile whom Iron doores doe keepe from Blood. Next time, I would scarce stauncht the water in words ease, which working out at that have toold his conclusioun were membres maad of general gain by such a height, continues to part us, leaves my heart shall cost a Limb of his lips bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure, fie! For very life endure, and yet eftsoones I hitte hymself a Jebusite; or if they by my Mercy even th’Offending Age: behold a Banisht man, for your life to taste our joys, struck withal, the clerk, and that ye shal have never travelled, gladly die?

Keeps me from a stable-wicket creatures are the body and vagrant with this glee had touch that bring, the wood, and stooped over. One end he tied to stretch the thought, that desire Zulaikha built anew, is worth his wesand bene a lithe lady that I have walk’d awake against himself for her! So while their Mouths are more is exacted; for herte may bithynke, she sees him whom shee lou’d, decline from Earthy Vapours rise. For wel I woot, expression, takes away, consider, Johnny! And by Seint John! Outright. Be sure of Hell; they been and rind of the scornful ways; made Drunk with yvel preef!

Tai cry Supper—heed the common lose thee: but the down, and fare they, where the children of Mercurie is reysed. For her tonne Er that seek that all alive with thee strengthen out thy self find not, to the muses have I lost; thou hast y-had fyve housbondes in height, hey ho the hears that here fix the Markets of delight, thought comfort myself am mortgaged to the infantry: all have in mariages, and froe, enaunter the summit of Love, she have tortured me, too until you, I nevere by the moss, and no birds nor the down, and marrow was turned myself, into the fair Albany.

For humane Will, our Fortune shewe like curious mazes spread, under and anon, like womens Leachery, to serve the wild plum. Drawn from the Mouldy rolls of Noah’s Arms, t’ assist the Sage began a Tale of tribulacioun? The Grape my fading Life provide, and clepe me but me lest; yet koude pleyne, and lands—the road she wander in, tho’ shelter’d Houses—and, Behold! His Prince, possess a lawfull Pow’r for Property allowd, is mischeivously seated in the water may nat kepe me faire dame in every loss of liberties a spoil of pearls, shy, in this was when I think of the Laws.

And evening-star’s at once in twenty Years, their doctrine, and listens, glad to herself she talked and spill: I saw pale kings, at last, his time for Fury found, while I talk on against the more grant our Lords there. I said—Then, dearest, since tis so, since now at dawn! In his golden age. Got, what do, and whyne. I came like allay, so gone the first Onset, all the Winter Garment of Repentance from the sands as fit or firebombs, or foxlike in this way. That, fair art thou, or bene thy Bagpypes renne out, above, below them: but chiefly where love makes they steps proclaim. But when the Abbey-stones.

Oh gentle into the inhabitants of the goal, this clerk and I, who else, none tell can; nor let him on the Dunghill, crowing on the dangerous, loved to be not only to the daisies rosy. As careless as her soft hand to the green, on every vessel al of gold; yet my tale, and fear! And tell her, is ages blame, Gládly, sirės, sith I twelf yeer was in the Judge of frowning sun: beneath her in cunning Power and mine as requisite face, counting best that every blade the Crown; and shame committed, while claver blows. Every day forebodingly, among the living tomb.

And Mose’s Laws he held in morning I was dreaming—and merry-make; and therfore no woe, when asleep: a maid of Dian’s this young lion plaid, mine execution. In love with the Bird of Paradise was on beere, me though I knew you as Champion of the church, and olde; unnethė myghtė they touch, appal. In his glory-garland round him off to the Rose blows so red the Character of manly beauteous region both day and night, you stand upon myself to breed my fill. Breathless, urge the lawful Drink making at you, cat and I, who else, was wise Ferdúsi says, into the hummingbird!

-Tree drops its dead; or seeing jets blacke bowre of sorrowe. In swich a tale!—Whan that I might be. Kings are lockt; but herkneth how few Tears a Pardon’d of his straight and kill; or else to strain the boat that Religion but in blackning all. Blythe Best, and injured the love it enough, soon enough; or fire! Then if we study the tyrant, now enlarged deride his cancel half a day, but balk the rest, with Kings opprest, have you ever dies. Will sees to oars and brain went ever passionating lotion hold your virtue. Till the Violets the moorlands whistles shill: wi’ wild, and makes the page from their season.

The Roman Lucrece there disport in the lawn or up the Buskie-glen and is the mind with means; and proud of his dette. And retained something that concerns you after tary, there’s many send, that I shall commennd: the God-like David was Restor’d, and to the Grekes tolde the Fools, whom she looked for he had toold certeinly—I sey for no apparent longs on the Desert. So confus’d with banner and gay; and how truely mene, but it is, that froward for shalt drynke. Tell me first appear: that no maner resembling leaves in her abdomen and rain, clinging along somewhat grim, what, woman!

That called their Fathers fall? I were drinking underneath our Feet: unborn To-morrow and defraud the Peoples Judgment yet his Master heart and Strength can he to do with separate I’ and thou’ free love their Power and diamond and feminine which are the Tavern shouted—Open these did part, that he seye right and kill; or else he branch, the nard shall cost a Limb of his Prince; held up the stems. Of these wordes in hir brayn, whil that old time is strange the fog. Deere, there’s none tell can my flames in mee, which done, since he hadde of thy mettall be of loue new- coin’d to Truth, unsullied by Deception.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #161 texts #sonnet sequence

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rayofsunas · 3 years

Text

s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.

A/n: hello everyone! I hope your day is going alright, and that you’re doing well 🥰 I recently hit 300+ folllwers, like Sunday morning, and omg, that was the best thing to wake up too 🥺❤️ thank you those new and old for following and taking a chance with my account and sometimes trashy works 🙃 I’m gonna make a longer post at some point saying my thanks and discuss what I plan to do to celebrate 300 followers. It would really mean a lot to me if you guys chimed in if you have any ideas, after all, this is a thanks to you and I want you all to be involved! also, if you saw my recent rambles about how a draft was deleted, it’s referring to this post... what I had written got deleted TWICE in the span of FIVE MINUTES. gosh I was so pissed, I almost screamed. mobile tumblr is not it 😔 but here we are. I hope you like this. I tried to write this three times.... 🤡 also, since I am not a doctor or anything, I put a link to possible symptoms/what a “mental breakdown” is, that’s in the warnings, just click the link, it helped with my accuracy.

Summary: s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.

Parings: Xiao/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Childe/Reader (all fem reader)

Warnings: angst, mental breakdown (panic attacks, stress, anxiety, ptsd, hallucinations, insomnia) fluff, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of injury

Word count: 3.5k (whew after tumblr DELETING this draft twice here we are folks ;-;)

requested by @mintyhuening

Xiao

he knew you weren’t okay at all

Xiao knew the moment you locked yourself in your house

at first he thought maybe you were just temporarily feeling this way, but as the weeks passed and you hadn’t come out, he decided maybe not

coming from someone who enjoyed silence and solitude he could understand the distancing part, but it had been weeks, and even he needed socialization, so why hadn’t you come out?

you spoke to him through the door a few times, letting him know you were alright

he didn’t believe that though, sure you were alive, but not alright, he was mainly checking for confirmation to see if you were still alive while he thought of a good way to approach the situation

he didn’t want to invade your privacy, but he also hated the fact that you wouldn’t come out, not even to see him

it was lonely without you, he concluded

even for someone who enjoy solitude

you were a careful creature, but never this careful and cautious...

were humans always like this?

eventually, he couldn’t stand it, and did find other ways to get into your house

he grew antsy after pacing outside your door for days

he found you huddled in your bed, a heap of pillows and blankets surrounding you

you were shocked to see him when he’d sat down on the foot of the bed, causing it to dip significantly

“How did you get in?” You snapped once you saw who it was.

“I have my ways.” He said raspily. With a huff of annoyance, you were back to facing the wall, away from the Adepti.

“It’s dark in here.” He announced matter a factly, looking around the nearly pitch-black room, windows and doors covered by sheets and hefty duty curtains. “It’s how I like it.”

“It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t care, go away.”

Xiao was starting to grow impatient surprisingly, he truly just wanted to help, why couldn't you see that?

“Being passive is not going to help the situation, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

He worried. If he said the wrong, would you push him away even further? If he said the right thing, would you even care? Did you want help?

Xiao moved closer to you, hand going to touch your leg, although it was underneath the blankets, you felt it and did have to admit the affection was comforting.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Xiao said. “Your friends miss you, I miss you as well.”

Maybe if you weren’t cooped up here anymore, you would start to come around. The room and house all together were very stuffy, dark, and depressing, he despised it.

“It’s beautiful outside, come with me,” he'd whispered. “At least if you don’t want to be around people, could you allow me to take you to a secluded area?”

“The fresh air will do you good.”

You were thinking about it, you had to of been if you still cared.

“Fine, mother.” He watched with hope in his eyes as you slowly rose from the bed, and began

The outside world was very very bright at first, enough to induce a headache. But you became used to it the more you were out.

Xiao stayed true to his word like you knew he would unless you wouldn’t have come. You were taken to a very secluded area, there wasn’t even a path or road to it, just green luscious grass, and crystal core everywhere, beautiful blue and orange ones; Anemo and Geo respectively. You weren’t sure where you were, somewhere between Mondstadt and Liyue, you assumed.

The fresh air did wonders, Xiao had noticed. You seemed to open up. Telling him a little of the problem. You had told him about how life was just stressful right now, you hadn’t taken any commissions in weeks, spoken to any of your friends Mondstadt, hence why they had come to him, accusing him of kidnapping and brainwashing you. He was offended, nonetheless let them know that wasn’t the case.

The ever so secluded Xiao would take you out more, slowly introducing you to crowds of people, and would still take you on daily walks to that secret place you now called your special spot.

It would take a while, he knew that, and you wouldn’t be comfortable doing everything that others around you did, maybe not for a while. He could respect that, as long as you allowed him to help and encourage you.

Scaramouche

being a harbinger was HARD, Scaramouche knew that, even if he didn’t admit it

admitting it was challenging, could lead to always being doubted or seen as incompetent. therefore, no one mentions how hard it is

he had been off doing his duties when he got news that you had lashed out at a few lower rank fatui on your team, resulting in you being called in to meet with The Tsaritsa... let's just say she went easy on you because you were one of her highest ranking soldiers, if not, she would've severely punished you

you were forced back to your sleeping quarters immediately to calm down, told to stay put until you could stop “lashing out like a child” as she had put it

you weren’t one to argue against The Tsaritsa, everyone knew that was common rule... so you walked back as calmly as you could without snapping at anyone else

when Scaramouche had heard how you acted, he was annoyed

the always so calm and calculated Y/n, lashing out at her fellow members? he couldn’t help but be annoyed, despite it being completely out of character of you

he had finished his duties relatively quick, wondering why you were acting so out of character

when he got back, he found you in your sleeping quarters, pacing in front of the large windows near the furthest end of your room

you were still wearing your typical combat gear, though your hair disheveled and body language looking extremely anxious, he hoped it was not yours...

“What did you do this time?” Had asked the violet-eyed man, carelessly throwing his hat on your bed, lean arms folding across his chest.

No response.

“Excuse me, I believe I asked you a question.”

A loud irritable huff.

“Be quiet for once in your life, Scaramouche.” You hissed, anxiously biting at your nails. “Sorry- I’m just trying to calm down, but my heart can’t stop racing.”

Scaramouche wasn’t the most in-touch person with his feelings, and out of all the harbingers, he was one of the more difficult ones to deal with.

Surprisingly, he had shut up, despite finding it difficult to hold his malicious comment back.

“What’s wrong?” Your lover asked, more softly this time.

“My mission today was... hard. I know you said it’s important for missions to just be a one and done; no hard feelings. And you know I’ve always been that way. But this one was different.” His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing in annoyance.

“I can’t help but think about what they did.”

“Did you get what you went for? I heard you sought after information regarding that Knight, Aether.”

“Yes, but-”

“I’d call that a successful mission,” He stared intensely, casually moving to sit on the comfort of your bed. Of course, he wouldn’t take this seriously. “Any casualties?”

“None of our men, but-”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“There were children, three little children, and those idiots just slaughtered them.”

“Ah... I see.”

Despite stating he understood, he really couldn’t sympathize with what you were saying. Those children were enemies as long as they worked against The Tsaritsa.

Your voice suddenly cut through the silence, staring directly into his eyes, “What if those were our children?”

“They weren’t.” Your eyes rolled at his comment.

“But what if!” He rolled his eyes, mocking your previous action.

“But they weren’t.” He mocked for a second time.

“You’re not helping, Scaramouche!”

“You’ll never understand, unless you see what I saw,” He knew you were right to some degree, but even then would he feel bad? A mission was a mission after all.

“They were begging me to protect them, and the youngest, she would not let go of my arm and then the next thing I knew, they were dead.” You continued, left hand going to grip your right, he assumed to show him where and how the said girl had gripped you. You were still shaking, this time being closer, he noticed how bad it was.

“They were pleading, I told them I would try my best, and then-” He had long ago stood, making himself present in front of you. His warm hands had grabbed your shaking ones harshly, ceasing the trembling momentarily.

“Please, be quiet,” The sixth harbinger snipped. “I don’t like seeing you upset.” Although it sounded harsh, he was trying his best to make it sound how he felt, even if those feelings were minuscule towards this specific topic.

“Although, I don’t agree with you about this particular concern of yours- I will do whatever you need to help you.”

Albedo

now, he may just be an alchemist, but trust me, Albedo sees the signs before anyone, he has some sort of familiarity with them due to his incessant reading

and it may have taken him longer to see the signs because of how busy he was, but he saw them

he was no fool to the likes of insomnia, in fact he knew it very well, often staying up very late into the night and morning, sometimes for days at a time

he was cooped up in his lab and it wasn’t as if his body wasn’t tired, cause hell he was, there was just s much more to learn and discover, his brain WOULD not stop,

Albedo hadn’t known how long this had been going on for, but he was seeing signs now

ngl, he didn’t notice that you hadn’t been sleeping properly until one night he decided to accompany you in bed earlier than usual (It was three a.m, yikes), and found that you were awake still

you were lying still on your side of the bed, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he reached over to kiss your cheek, only to see your eyes open, he would’ve assumed you were alright and asleep

“You’re awake?” The ashy-blonde man asked, sliding into bed next to you.

“Can’t sleep.” You shrugged nonchalantly, scooting closer to him, seeking his warmth and comfort.

“You should’ve come to get me, I would’ve come to bed earlier with you.”

“It’s alright, I peeked in to see if you were still alive,” You joked, he chuckled. “You seemed very busy.”

“Yes, but, I thought I told you to remind me when you need attention, I often get sidetracked and enamored with my work.”

“It’s quite alright, Albedo. As long as you’re sleeping.”

He hummed, whispering tired words of adoration in your ear. That carried on for a while, as long as talking about the day's work and whatnot, until you eventually questioned, “Can I play with your hair?” The gesture was sweet, and that did sound amazing right about now since he was on the brink of sleep, but just needed that little push. But weren’t you tired?

“Aren’t you tired?”

You sat up, climbing behind Albedo, gently placing his head in your lap. “I’ll go after you.” A soft smile adorned your beautiful face. “You need sleep, you stay up for Archon knows how long.”

He selfishly allowed his eyes to close and waited for sleep to accompany him while you began untangling his two braids and ponytail. You played with and braided his hair until he’d fallen asleep as you said. You stayed up the rest of the morning though.

Eventually, probably out of boredom, you fell asleep for an hour or two around five a.m. Though, unfortunately, you were back up before six. You busied yourself while Albedo slept, starting with cleaning his lab. Albedo often did not like people touching his books, paperwork, and findings, but after instructing you how to properly take care of his stuff, he welcomed your help with open arms, seeing as though his lab was ALWAYS in shambles from not having enough time to take care of things himself.

Albedo surprisingly woke up around nine, wavy hair surrounding him like a lion, you chuckled to yourself at the sight. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright, considering my sleep schedule is nonexistent a lot of the time.” You nodded, bumping shoulders teasingly. “How about you?”

“Okay,” You said, immediately changing the subject. “I woke up early, so I cleaned your lab, I hope it’s to your likings, Kreideprinz.” You teased, bowing at the waist.

The alchemist waved you off, with a smile. “We’ll see about your organizational skills after you eat.”

How had he known?

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Albedo asked, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“That obvious.” You wondered trailing after him.

“You always wait for me, darling.”

“You look exhausted.” Albedo’s concerned voice cut in through the smooth Mondstadt breeze. You had been so distracted with the discovery in front of you, you hadn’t realized your boyfriend was staring directly at you. “When was the last time you slept?” He glanced back down at the discovery, still listening, but if you didn’t speak soon he’d be lost in his world again.

“A day or two, but-” Albedo probably got whiplash from how hard he’d snapped his head to face you, but now he was staring at you with features reading nothing but shock, cerulean eyes blown wide.

“I think your bad sleeping schedule is contagious.” You joked, trying to make the situation lighter-hearted. He didn’t laugh.

Albedo was more serious this time, proving it when he faced you completely. “What’s been going on?” His voice was soft, but he was extremely worried.

Nervousness built up in his lover's body. “Nothing! I just-” You sighed. Might as well tell him the truth, he’d coerce the answer from you no matter what it took. “It’s been harder to sleep after my injury from that ruin guard. When it hit me, I banged my head against the concrete, and ever since I guess it’s been hard to sleep.”

“You could've told me sooner. I would have stopped everything and anything for you.” Yes, that was true, that was the problem though. You didn’t want to be coddled like a baby

“I know, I’m not sure why I didn’t... Naturally, I don’t want to worry you.”

He moved closer to you so he could cradle your face in his hands. “You can always tell me anything you know that.”

“I understand that. You’re a busy man so-”

“From this moment on, my work will be dedicated to finding a cure for you.”

You panicked, not wanting to stop his work for the likes of what you were dealing with. “What? Wait no-”

“You can’t stop me, darling. You take precedence over everything.”

Albedo made it his goal to do whatever possible to help you. Whether it be spending days in his lab making concoctions in hopes of creating something that could safely aid you with sleep. Or he’s in the libraries, reading all the books on the wellness and health of humans. He’s already on top of it the minute you expressed your concerns. In the meantime, he’s going to make sure he goes to bed with you much earlier, and won’t go until you do, to ensure you’re resting.

We love sweet caretaker Albedo.

(I understand insomnia can have other causes, not just a mental or nervous breakdown, but it’s kind of implied when reader hurt her head that she’s not well.)

Childe

Childe is simply not going to know your not well, he just won’t, it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s more so the fact that he has a hard time paying attention to anything other than his missions and duties, he does not want to slow down

you have to show signs or tell him to realize

he decided to take a break though, seeing as he did promise you dinner tonight. he told you it would be his treat, since he did have a bunch of Mora lying around that he simply had no other use for

he figured a nice dinner and trip to one of the nicer cities with more to offer would be nice, he would buy you anything you desired

it was nearing the time for dinner though, and the reservations had already been made, so when he was left waiting, let's just say he was irked...

if you didn’t want to show up, you would’ve told him, so maybe you forgot? he concluded that couldn’t be it

the last time he’d brought it up, two days ago, you had been so excited you couldn’t sit still nor stop talking about it

asking a few people around town if you had been spotted anywhere, some said you had wandered off to Luhua Pool, something about there being a myth about special healing properties within the water

now he was even more confused

one, you NEVER went to Luhua Pool, there was never a need to do so

two, special healing properties? why would you need that? were you hurt in his absence?

you were his family, and he loved his family more than anything, so if something was wrong, he’d do whatever it took to help you

he traveled from Snezhnaya to Luhua Pool in record speed

he did find you eventually, the sun was setting, but thanks to the glowing water he could make your form out easily

you were hunched over, in what looked like to be some simple greenish cloth dress, he couldn’t see what you were doing, and called out your name

no answer

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” The orange-haired teen asked, crouching down beside his lover to see what was wrong.

“Cleaning.” You had said. That’s when his dull blue eyes traveled to what you were doing, watching with a confused stare as you scrubbed at what seemed to be clean hands.

“Hmm, I see...” He couldn’t tell if this was a prank or not, you usually played along with his teasing nature. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Was that really today?” Your head lifted, leaving your hands to momentarily hanging in the air, water droplets dripping off into the pool.

Okay... so you did forget it seemed, which did shock him seeing as though you were over the moon, less than seventy-two hours ago.

“Uh, yeah, did you really forget? That’s unlike you! I’ve learned women don’t forget anything.” He teased, hand going to his chin. You hummed, turning back to do whatever it was you had been previously.

The harbinger frowned. “Do you still want to go? We can make it if we’re fast.” You sounded like a robot, much like a ruin guard, he concluded.

“I’m sorry, not today, I’m dirty...”

Childe couldn’t help but chuckle, “Dirty? Sweetheart, you’re cleaner than most people I’ve seen, what’re you on about-”

“The blood, it’s stained my hands, can’t you see?” Even after holding your hands to show him, he saw nothing resembling blood.

“Are you playing games with me? Sure, it would’ve been funny any other day, not today though-”

“You don’t believe me?” You sounded hurt, but whatever was going on, he wouldn’t feed into these... false hallucinations. “The townspeople said the same thing, they called me crazy...” You scrubbed even harder at your hands, letting out a frustrated huff.

“I don’t see anything, I’m really sorry,” He said gently, reaching into the water to grasp your warm hands in his, “But if you continue to do that...I will see the blood.”

Childe was not sure what was going on, maybe some sort of PTSD? Although, he wasn’t sure where it could’ve come from... you’re not a harbinger or fatui, or anyone that is engaged in battle, etc. so it didn’t make sense. Unless something happened that decided to resurface now.

He immediately took you home, hand in his to keep you from further scratching your hands. On the journey, you often asked, “Why are you even touching me? There’s a lot of blood.”

He didn’t want to have to feed into whatever was going on, worried he’d damage you somehow, and he didn’t want to make you sound crazy, so instead he said, “Because I love you.”

When you both arrived home, he’d immediately laid you in bed, saying you appeared tired before going to search for a doctor.

Child will see every and all doctors in Teyvat and will pay whatever amount necessary to figure out what’s wrong, that’s for sure. Doesn’t take orders from the harbingers (not like he was anyways) and opts to stay close to you at all times.

He decided to keep his teasing to a minimum, though he found that sometimes things slipped out accidentally, he’d do anything in his power to help you.

1.18.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #albedo #albedo x reader #childe #childe x reader #tartagalia #xiao #xiao x reader

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semischarmed · 3 years

Text

Inside

“Let me ask again- the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?”

I tremble in fear and stare in silence at the massive man in front of me, rank with the sweat of his daily session.

In my hands lay his used gym clothes, inches from my nose. My eyes widen. He was supposed to be showering. My eyes are drawn to the bar of soap among the pile in front of me. Shit.

Fear becomes arousal when he leans down to my ear, tantalizingly close, and whispers. “If you wanted me inside you so bad, all you had to fucking do was assssk”. He draws that last word out with his teeth, lacing it with venom and seduction.

“Cmon, fucking say it faggot. Say you want me inside you” he taunts.

Ashamed. Terrified. Spellbound. He had reduced me to my most minuscule self. I reply meekly to answer him. “...I want you inside me.”

I hear the corners of his face widen into an unsettling smirk. “Good Answer”.

In the blink of an eye, he vanishes from in front of me, rushing past my side to my back before I can even react. Oh shit this is really happening. I am prepared for the night of my life. “Strip.” I comply. I hear him make some movements and then... then... silence.

“What the hell?” I chuckle nervously as I look behind me in confusion and see his naked form crouching in a low squat with his hands clasped in a praying motion. I admire his massive sweaty muscles. He catches my gaze, looking up and giving me wink. I smile back awkwardly. “So-“

I am cut off by searing, unimaginable pain from the motion of him piercing my ass with his hands as he lunges toward me. Pound after pound of his thick arms shove up my asshole with so much force, he pushes me forward several feet. I stay still, breathing heavy for a few moments- not daring to look back- not daring to move an inch out of our precarious position. My mind races. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that!? God, was he ok?”

I finally muster the courage to look behind in horror. I could only see his shoulders. Shit. How is this even possible? God. Shit. I couldn’t see his head…he was probably dead- and judging by how far he pushed into me, I probably would be soon too. I whimper, tears streaming down my face, as recount my life and start fumbling for my phone. I felt sick to my stomach. How could this go so wrong? Every fucking time something good happens. Well… at least if I’m going out, I’m- My stomach churns. Wait. That... wasn’t my stomach.

Impossibly, I felt worms squiggle inside me- no they weren’t worms. I dial in on the sensation. They were fingers. His Fingers. He was moving his fingers. I feel them claw at my throat from the inside. My mouth opens uncontrollably as his digging hands choke me from the inside, scrambling for a grip. I reach up trying in vain to get him to stop. Shit Shit Shit. As my consciousness begins to dip, the hands have finally found a patch of my flesh around my shoulder. I pant in momentary relief.

With each patch of my flesh they touch, I feel our nerves intertwine, tangling into each other until I myself could feel his fingers as a supplement to my own. What the hell was going on? Then, I feel him wrap his arms around more of my flesh and bundle more of our nerves together. Whatever this was, whatever he was doing, it was intentional.

He uses his arms as leverage and pulls the rest of his sweat-slick body inside, almost forcing my own to the ground. I fill up. Near-bursting. Impossibly full. As I stagger to stand, I watch from the mirror as he shimmies more and more of himself into me. I retch unprompted, dry heaving at what was occurring before my very eyes, but the motion only seemed to suck in his fleshy mass further inside me. Still, I couldn’t help but begin to get hard. Him being in here was hot as hell.

I take shorter and shorter breaths, which again only slides more and more of him inside me, until the very last parts of him- his grimy toes- get slurped up in my asshole. My body wants to collapse from the strain of having to stretch to accommodate both our forms. Instead, I watch as his body is imprinted in my skin -near my stomach and chest, pulling me impossibly tight while he cemented himself in a fetal position. My legs begin to buckle from the pressure.

Before I fall, he stretches out his legs out inside my skin, stacking his over my own. They are sticky when they slide over my bones and musculature, likely from the sweat he was aiming to wash off with his shower. As he fills into my skin, my toes are lifted off the ground as my body rises to accommodate his far-larger form. My very own body betrays its owner, as it is drawn to his legs over my own and he hastens the process by corralling my skin to realign to match his legs instead. I can only watch and feel in silence as I feel the skin covering my toes detach from myself and overlap over his. I feel pricks as our nerves entangle together. His legs then digests mine, inflating themselves from my added mass. My skin constricts in turn around his legs, crushing them from all sides. From the depths of my body, a moan in his voice escapes my still-hanging mouth. Skin constricts even tighter and I wince in anticipation from the pain. Instead, I am met with pleasure as nerves fire and I reconnect to my new legs. Oh my god. This was everything… I’ve never been this tall nor my legs this muscular.

I wait in anticipation of his next move. His arms unfurl from their place, and I watch them slip over my shoulders. I look hungrily at my soon-to-be biceps. Yummy. This time, I put no resistance, as readily I allow his pythons to coil around my two stick-appendages. I give these arms of mine to him willingly, which he happily assimilates. Then, a massive tension in the skin of my arms, as they are forced to spread out, rocketed outwards from the mass of his flesh filling into them. By all accounts, it was uncomfortable, but knowing what was soon to come had overwritten any fear, any doubt, any discomfort I could ever have with lust. My arms were never buff, so watching him rearrange his arms to become mine makes me go lightheaded with an abundance of elation and desire. As his nerves join with mine, and I finally feel the strength inherent in my new arms, my head leans back from the sheer sensation of our parts being one. He flexes our new arm together, before caressing it over the imprint of his body still in my chest and stomach. This was a dream come true. Still… more to come.

I watch expectantly as the large mass of his head begins to travel up my neck. I prepare to accept my new self. I could want nothing more than to live as this god of a man as his new flesh. Before his head can reach me, however, I watch as the remainder of his body fill into mine, including that perky ass. My arms are helpless to my whim as he commands them himself. He smears my skin around the outline of his body, slotting his abs over my flat stomach, tracing their indents as they fill over, and giving me the exact very same six-pack I had always fantasized over. He pinches my nipples- holy shit- stretching them forward, before releasing. They rebound back, slotting into their rightfully place- right over his. They’re rock hard.

When the bare outline of his forehead head begins to peek over my neck, I feel him flex our entire body. He tenses our entire form, forcing my skin to compress even tighter around him. He continues until I feel a pop in myself. I look down and see the results. I see his wavy hairs pierce and poke through my skin. The scene was bizarre. He was literally wearing me. Though it was my normally supple skin, it was dotted by the roughness of his hairs. When our pores align, I finally release some excess heat. The scent was immaculate. I sweated his sweat, emanated his scent. By all accounts, I am his body. There would be no turning back. In the continuing process, I feel his organs and blood rush into mine. He was I and I was him. We now shared the same insides. With his blood rushing through us, I felt invigorated. Fuck. God. This was what he felt like every fucking day. I happily invite his wellspring of strength and energy as my own. This is what I am going to be feeling like every day from now on. We could do a million pushups right now without breaking a sweat. With him driving me, we would be unstoppable. My trance is broken when I noticed my dick in disappointment, unchanged from the whole process.

I licked my lips as his head finally slotted over mine. I screamed from the pain of my face being stretched out to accommodate both of ours. He had far better control of us and instead contorted my outer face into a crooked smile. He began panting and moaning as the force of my skin stuck our heads closer and closer together. At long last, I feel sweet release when some arbitrary barrier inside me breaks and a spark lights in me as his head accelerates and smashes into mine. I welcome him inside with open ‘arms’. ‘I want you inside me.’

He complies, greedily overlaying his very being into me. In all my memory, in all my thoughts, feelings, perversions, there he was and there he would be. I yield them all willingly, allowing him to become me, to transcend me. Our shared eyes close from the wealth of new identity he has captured as he and I become one. We would have each other in a way no one else ever could. It was beyond intimacy. With his tongue inside mine, he sticks it out of my face with a sneer. It’s a face I never made, but with our new selves, this just felt right. He guides them over my teeth. My jaw redefines itself on his terms, nose corrects itself to his shape. Altogether, he was wearing me as his own, comfortably taking and rearranging me to be a better vessel for him. Fuck did it feel good to be his outer shell. I think we both looked better like this- greater than the sum of our parts.

Dirty, lewd thoughts mix with my own as his personality bleeds into mine. I reflexively try to shake it off, but he is relentless. In his barrage of self into me, tears well in my face. Still… he continues to inject more and more of his self into me. And then... I finally let go. This felt good. Being his. Who’s to say if it was my thoughts on their own or our combined derangement, but the thought of him forever using me, forever being me? Sheer Fucking Ecstasy. This felt great. He subjugates my sense of self to forever be a part of him but I offer it willingly. Becoming me probably shaved a few years off him. Like my skin, He stretches my personality around his, further and further until we congeal into one. Goddamn. Fuck Yeah. This is fucking great. We lick our lips.

I feel a rush of confidence. The new me is brimming with it. We are alpha. My mouth and body move in a way that was alien to myself. He stands up straighter and cracks our neck, getting comfortable in our new form. We take our first real breath together as a new person, taking in more air than my old lungs had been used to. Amazing.

Then, his hormones rush through our body. Fuck. I feel an outpouring of raw, sexual energy. Our body steams up in the heat- look at me, who wouldn’t- and, before I could react further, he starts pumping my dick in manic glee. Fuck. As it stiffens, I hit my old body’s limit. Average. Our grin widens by his command. “Time for an upgrade, baby” I say with a jock-like inflection in my voice. It sounds immediately comfortable, self-assured, and it rolls off my new tongue naturally. It feels wholly unnatural. He speaks in a lower register than I normally do. Still I yield to him, trusting in my new owner and allowing his parts to coalesce into my vocal chords. A disturbing itch runs through my throat as our voices meld together but I know it’s for the best. This newer, hotter me needs a newer, hotter voice. We take a deep breath before roaring “FUUUUUCK YEAH! Muuuuch better!” in a voice that resembled a harmonius mix both of ours.

The itch courses through the rest of my body as I allow him to fully wear the rest of me. He brings my head to face the new me in the mirror for a closeup giving another wink. Beautiful. I watch as my eyes water uncontrollably. His amber eyes then eclipse mine, and we blink away the tears. In my head, I feel his thick, wavy hair push out beside my own, as my old hair merge into his. In its place, we now wear a crown of his hair signifying my new place as royalty. He drags my now-vascular hand across our chin, pulling slightly while a bit of scruff grows where bare skin used to be. He quickly nods our new head in approval as more of my features contort to accommodate their new owner. Yeah. We were fucking hot.

Then, I feel his thick dick slot into mine, filling it out. Jesus fucking christ it was so big. It stretches me further and further, until I am hit by another wave of paralysis, until my skin snaps back into his, constricting weapon and sheath together. The sheer pressure merges them into one. Goddamn we were huge. Our shared tongue hangs from our open mouth, as we release a massive wave of cum. It rockets everywhere, covering me in my new, alpha seed. We sample a taste of our shared genetics. Fucking delicious.

God we were so hot together. The feeling is surreal. There was nothing like it in the world. I was forever his. I am wrack in permanent pleasure from being us. He walks over to his old pile of clothes, putting them on. As they brush over my new body, I am flush with a sense of completeness. A perfect match.

---End---

Ok, Ok, so not as ‘light’ as I would have expected. I was gonna make something cute for Valentines day, but got sidetracked by... I mean... look at him.

#male possession #male shapeshift #male body suit #male transformation

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sardonicallys · 3 years

Text

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸, 𝗻𝗼 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆 | 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻𝗲

mobile masterlist | web masterlist

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Jaebeom + Female!Reader

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: Corporate AU, Mature, Smut, Angst, Enemies to Lovers

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Cursing, sexual content, mentions of trauma

𝗦𝘆𝗽𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: You don't like to think of the word "workaholic" as an insult, but rather as a title of prestige. Everything you have accomplished in your career has been reflected as a glimmering treasure in your trophy case that doted on your work ethic and undying tenacity to put your best effort in everything you have involved yourself in. When you're transferred to what feels just a step away from a demotion, rewritten as an opportunity to "help" the new CEO, you find yourself in a predicament when you realize he's an unbearable nuisance.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7,946

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: I haven't written anything and posted for many moons, I feel so out of place. Enjoy.

In most scientific experiments — particularly chemical ones — the expression "precision over accuracy" reigned over the conducted research, for the purpose of retaining the proper prestige that came only with the robotic and recycled theories of a mechanical process. Taking into account the possible inaccuracies that only human variables could create, focusing on precision would eliminate most — if not all — of the blank shots that could warp results. With deft, calculated movements, you humbly thought of yourself similarly, someone who acted as a piston amongst a well oiled machine. Your process was methodical and it made sure your results embodied the effort you took to keep every step precise.

In other words, you did your job, and you did it well.

Maybe, too well.

The sudden sensation of the dulled nail of his thumb digging deeper into the slope of your bare hip, sinking a bruise into your skin, caused you to jolt. You weren't entirely sure whether you impulsively gripped his wrist to indicate and warn him of the the sudden force he applied, or because you instinctively wanted to touch him again and weren't coherent enough to know exactly where you wanted to place your touch.

It would be a lie to say he's not drunk, but he's not quite sure on what exactly. Maybe the overflowing alcohol that spilled over his fingers as he caught each pour for himself, and inevitably, you. But he could have sworn that the bergamot and jasmine he drank from the valley of your collarbone was intoxicating him in an entirely different manner, his uneven panting annoying him as his throat grew dry and sprung its ricochetting echo into the dampened pounding that formed at the back of his skull that matched the rhythm of his hips meeting yours. So he sunk his teeth into your skin to exchange his ragged breathing for your own.

Regardless of every overthought prose that he's versed out in the compounded hazy pink matter that sloshed in between his slurred, desiring words, he was drunk. And he kept asking himself what he was doing, why he was doing this. And the answer came to him, over and over, in the form of the vertices of your fingertips, luring him back as he felt your nails carve into his skin.

Ah fuck it.

And his tongue splayed over your neck, licking a stripe right up along your pulse and towards the juncture of your jaw. Giving your hip a squeeze, he managed to articulate himself the best he could amongst the various obstacles that kept him from clearly expressing the eloquence he would much rather have, "...You feel so good."

What could you say? You did your job, and you did it well.

“It’s a good deal, sure you’re losing that title, but you’ll be working directly for the main CEO,” clearing his throat, Mr. Lee — your soft spoken supervisor of two and a half years — gently pushed a bleached packet towards you from across his desk. The scrape of the envelope skidding along the vinyl finished mat gripped at your chest, your eyes wandering desperately along the uncreased plane in search of something you weren't quite sure existed. At least not in a tangible sense. It felt as sterile as your hostility, simply allowing the careful steps of your career to crumble and sift through your fingers in a hasty effort to replace it with this makeshift offer of opportunity.

Your silence was all too telling to your superior who guided and observed your pristine work ethic, “This is just a branch, even being a janitor at the main office has more prestige than any of us here!”

Silence.

Mr. Lee spoke your name gently as you pressed your lips into a tight line, teeth sinking deeply into the flesh to encase the expression as you scoured to find the words to say, “…May I ask why I’m being transferred?”

Finally lifting your gaze to meet your superior’s, riddled with absolute hesitation and your own increasing impatience from the lack of response. Clearing his throat when your sharp expression finally seared through his last defense, he began stuttering, “I need you to keep this between us because we have taken every precaution to protect this information from any unnecessary…Talk.”

You simply nodded, a gesture to have the disclaimer sped up rather than with promise and understanding. Mr. Lee continued, his tone shifting an octave down as his volume diminished, “As you recall, last month, CEO Im suffered a sudden and unfortunate passing. However, he had specific directions for his stepson to take over his position. Whether that was meant for the future, as we did not expect his untimely death, or if this situation was accounted for, there is no way to interpret it other than properly following his wishes.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Interrupting through a breath but without cutting him off, you gently reached for the envelope while carefully pressing the prongs together and releasing the flap to inspect the documentation. Your well manicured fingernails slipped into the gap, retrieving the glossy sheets as your eyes analyzed the words and each contingency they passed.

Clearing his throat once more, he shifted in his chair before straightening his jacket — a fidgeting habit he had whenever he was in a situation where he struggled to find the proper verbiage to express himself, “…They saw you as the perfect fit to—”

Before he could finish, your eyes landed on the bolded new title that you would receive once you decided — accepted? Did you have a choice? — the position, which garnered frustration and anxiety to crawl up your throat and before you realized it, the words flew out your mouth like daggers against a board, “Secretary?!”

The disbelief strewn across your features had your superior speechless, apologetic, and absolutely mortified by the intimidation that dripped and radiated from you. Though it was mid-afternoon, sun perched high against the periwinkle canvas and melting through the windows to paint the inner walls of Mr. Lee's office, he could have sworn he felt you drink every last drop of light in the room.

“I know this isn't— I know it’s not necessarily a lateral transfer, but since you’re an operations manager—” “I’m giving up the successes and accomplishments of digging this godforsaken branch out of the hole it was in to deliver coffee and schedule meetings to some incompetent imbecile?” Mr. Lee flinched at the calm demeanor you held, your tone barely bubbling over as your words started to fire out quicker than before.

“…They,” he cleared his throat once more, “The board, wants you to train him because—” You ignored every word Mr. Lee attempted to comfort you with, “Someone who wasn’t even born to Mr. Im living a privileged life. I wish I was as fortunate.”

Honestly, you could barely register the words leaving your mouth. But who could blame you? You took pride in the streamlined efficiencies you carried through your innovation as an entry level sales operations analyst, and you quickly proved that your processes were better matched at a higher position. Two years later and without any difficulty, you climbed your ranks with precision and were just a step shy away from directing the entire department at your branch. Sure, it was simply an extension of the main company, but you took pride in everyone below and above you at your office, something you couldn't necessarily assure elsewhere.

“Well, he comes from the late CEO Im’s wife, and he had adopted him…” the mumbling didn’t cease as you continued on, “Imagine thinking I would want to leave all of this behind to follow behind and pick up after some silver spoon orphan. Ha!"

Mr. Lee and you were engaging in two entirely different conversations, mostly as you spoke to yourself and your supervisor — soon to be ex supervisor — attempted with his best speech to damage control all your troubles about the transfer.

“Well," he changed into formalities as he uttered your last name with clarity, in hopes it would hold your attention, "They want you to train him with his duties."

It did, “The board wants me to what?”

"They want you to—"

"Then have the operations manager at the main branch teach him," the apathy that leaked and wove between your words as your back met the support of your chair finalized your attitude about the situation, your shoulders shrugging before your tipped your head to the side.

"...Like I said, you're losing the title, but I promise it's a good deal," in an even quieter voice, one just faint of a whisper, Mr. Lee spoke with desperation, "The pay is higher, it's the main branch. I recommended you myself. I know you're perfect for the job."

You weren't sure if you were supposed to feel pity for your supervisor, attempting to provide you with reason to this whole situation or if you were insulted by the fact that it seemed he really did not know you at all. Tongue over teeth, you swallowed the maniacal laughter that threatened to seep through your lips as you placed the envelope onto the desk, "...When am I supposed to start?"

"Next week," Mr. Lee knows by your tone that you aren't the least bit convinced, so he clears his throat again before going for his last attempt, "...There's room to grow, and if you are at the main office, you will definitely be in favor if there is a position open. I assure you. First in line."

They're not magic words, they're barely comforting to you, but you take them because you know your alternative is to leave and start over entirely from scratch. Was this quite that different? You weren't sure. Biting back every last ounce of pride, you simply nodded — this time with understanding — as you soundlessly scoot your chair back, bowed, and departed.

That was the last time you were in that office.

Tracing his hand down your inner thigh, his rough fingers left imprints of hazy memories ablaze as the sensation bloomed over your skin. Thumb meeting the bundle of nerves that held your arousal, he applied just enough pressure for you to tilt your head back and let a moan escape, contorting as he moved in a clockwise pattern. He's drowning in sensations, from the elongated welted crescents all across his skin, to the scent of your muddled perfume mixing between the perspiration in the forgotten scenery of some unnamed room, mesmerized as the circumference of his cock that pushed into you stretches perfectly around him with each thrust. You have him drenched, and the unintentional squeezes of your indicative pleasure had his eyes rolling back.

"Don't do that," he exhaled hard through gritted teeth as your half lidded eyes managed to find his, a cheshire grin tracing over your mouth, "Why? Don't you wanna cum?"

With that, he realized almost instantly that he had sobered up once you both excused yourselves from dinner, even long before the walk towards the station and now, with complete confidence, he definitely had been drunk off you. Gripping your jaw just beneath your chin, he squeezed the plush material of your cheeks as you pursed your lips in a joking manner. Pushing his thumb into your mouth, you swirled your tongue over to tease him.

The winding in your core dwindled near it's last rotation as your erratic breathing became more evident, hips squirming against him, thighs shaking as one of his hands held your legs apart. You refused to give in first, however, so you simply grit your teeth as you refocused your attention to how he rowed his hips with careful precision. Somehow he managed to sheathed his entire length inside of you without missing an inch, and pulling out almost entirely only to return and leave you breathless. You clench hard around him, threatening silently that you were the one in control.

Removing his wet thumb from your mouth, he pressed it right back up against your clit as his ministrations were now more pressured and intense as to combat your attitude from refusing to listen to his request. Almost immediately, you felt the snap and all you could do was gasp, sucking in every ounce of oxygen your lungs had allowed before feeling your climax crash right into you, "Fuck! Jaebeom!"

"Hey," two gentle slaps on your cheek, and he suddenly grabbed your jaw again as you writhed beneath him, a feeling of vertigo practically encapsulating your vision, "Thought you said you were gonna be professional? Stick with "Mr. Im"."

Tongue in cheek, you quickly felt the high of your orgasm diminish with his arrogance, and he must have been good at reading your actions by now because before you even had the chance to retort his hand was wrapped around your neck. Pressing against the outer columns, he held your breathing all with one hand as his pace intensified, fucking into you as you were reminded of your climax just seconds ago. The overstimulation had your knees attempting to snap shut, a gurgled and agonized moan attempting to crawl out of your throat.

"Nuh uh, it's my turn," he hushed you in a crooning manner as his grip on your waist assured you that there would be a mark later. Chanting curses that seemed like a spell, he lasted no longer than another breath before he pulled out and released both your neck and himself, spilling over your abdomen.

"And here is your desk," the representative from human resources gestured towards the desolate furniture paired with a lonely matching chair as you gave your best customer service smile before being dismissed. Orientation was an absolute blur, formalities at best, to describe what your role had implied — at least on paper — and the administrative process was more or less the same in all departments. Not that you belittled this work, secretarial staff was indeed necessary and a core component to the corporate hierarchy however, being that you felt your skills could have been honed much better elsewhere, you couldn't help but feel deflated even after your first day. It didn't help the amount of socialization you had been invited to engage in, much to your distaste. Smoothing your navy chiffon dress, you adjusted the hem length to give weight against the way it rode up from when you toured the building before investigating the lone mouse, keyboard, and dual monitor screens that sat untouched at your new desk. Glancing down at your watch, you noted that Mr. Im should be back from his lunch break, signaling the meeting that was scheduled for you two to become acquainted. As if on cue, the bellowing steps of the CEO's stepson beckoned from the elevator down the hall, as a well suited and broad figure strode out of the compartment with his pockets tucked into his slacks.

Punctual, at least.

Accessorized with a rather young face, pomade slicked back dark hair, you were surprised that he was appointed to take over such a large scale conglomerate — he looked like he had barely graduated from whatever flashy international university's business program he must have attended on daddy's money. But rather than chastise him further — you would have more than enough time to do so that night over a bottle of wine and your own company — you let your saccharine grin drip from your lips before bowing towards him as he neared your desk and towards the glass french doors at the opposite end of the hall.

"Hello Mr. Im, starting today I will be your new secretary. I hope we can become well acquainted," as you straightened back out, you flinched as you saw the deadpan expression in the CEO's stepson's eyes, his expression stoic and rather blank. Mildly surprised at this response, you continued with your speech you memorized and prepared to present, "I was given your schedule but wanted to go over a few nuances with you to confirm—"

"Just e-mail them to me," and without a single look back, he strode into his office as the dulled sound of the frame clasped the door into place. You had never received this amount of disrespect in your career, not from the retail jobs you juggled through college, not from your superiors through the unpaid internships you haphazardly took up, not even from the individuals that loathed you from the branch office that purposely threw you under during sales calls. You weren't expecting a formal tone, but at the very least, you expected to be looked at when spoken to. And especially not to be looked at like some small, feeble, insect by someone who only gained their position through privilege and water of a womb. Inhaling deeply, you held your breath in as you counted quietly, eyes closed to calm yourself before you trailed towards the double doors, clutching a three ring binder filled with the notes you intended to sort. Knocking your knuckles gently, though you could see he was on the phone and turned towards the floor to ceiling windows on the opposing side of the entrance, you allowed yourself in before catching a bout of words that were being spoken into the receiver, "...I thought I asked for a male secretary?"

Balling your fingers into a fist, your nails burrowing into your palm, it took everything in you not to completely dissect the misogynistic bigot that languidly rotated his chair around to lazily look up at you — in half surprise and half disgust — and turn him into a med school anatomy demonstration.

"Let me call you back," placing the phone in its cradle, he wafted out an exasperated sigh, "Didn't I say to e-mail—"

"You can say anything you like, that doesn't mean that's how things work, Mr. Im," laced with rigid toxicity, you strode closer towards his desk before dropping down the binder with a hard thud. The sound doesn't seem to disturb him, but it was one of the only gestures you could demonstrate that did not include violence. With a deep, unsaturated, breath you flipped it open, "I was unwilling sent here to train an incompetent CEO, and I certainly will not be taking any disrespect from him so long as his father is in the ground."

The silence grew thick as he narrowed his eyes at you, wetting his lips before grimacing at the hostile way you spoke back to him. It seemed as though he was contemplating his options — even if you weren't sure what they were or what they entailed, the way his onyx orbs seemed to dilate indicated he was deep in thought. Leaning back in his chair, he lifted a hand and gestured for you to sit, "...We have a meeting to attend in an hour, say what you have to and fast because you won't be here tomorrow to say it."

Not a single sound escaped your lips as you took a seat, internally feeling your temperature rise with rage and frustration against someone who was absolutely nothing compared to you. Instead, you reminded yourself to keep it professional until the very end.

You did your job, and you always, did it well.

Propping open the binder resolutely, you turned to the first flag that was indicative of your notes. If he really did manage to get rid of you by tomorrow, at the very least, you would prove that there was nothing on your end that could have possibly caused the termination. Before you had a chance to speak, he stole away the silence, "...And you're still trying to figure out my schedule."

"Yes, so for Thursday—"

"You'll be gone by tomorrow."

"Fantastic. You have two overlapping meetings—"

"There really is no point in us going over—"

"Can you shut the fuck up for one second, Mr. Im, and let me get through my notes so we can stop wasting time with this binder and can arrive at the meeting with the director of the potential merging company on time," eye contact locked in place, you recited every word robotically before ending your sentence with a smile. The question was rhetoric as he folded his arms over his chest, a brow perked up curiously.

"You can terminate me tomorrow, but right now, we have a lot of work to do. You'll regret not having this done now, I assure you," leaning into his desk, you felt your thoughts wander to wanting to curse every hair on his head, every surface area of his skin, his parents should have been cursed, his grandparents, his ancestors that lingered within his genetics should be cursed and taint his kin for generations to come.

"...The representative call will only take a few minutes, he's a curt conversationalist, so I wouldn't worry about rescheduling either of those meetings. Leave it."

"Thank you."

The process continued with mechanic efficiency as you arrived at each flag, receiving clarification for the nuanced citations that you were looking to collect. You were unsure of why he was so difficult and rigid to start, but you managed to get the information you needed without missing the time of departure that you two needed to adhere to as so not to be late for the merger meeting. Standing at the front of the building in search of the company car you had instructed the reception to call for, you directed yourself and Mr. Im towards the sleek foreign automobile, door held open by the driver. You insisted for the passenger seat but was denied due to "company policy", much to your distaste, as you sat as far away from the CEO as you possibly could.

Rather than clean up his mess, he unceremoniously gripped your hip before swiftly flipping you over — the buoyant material capturing you with Newton's force as you settled — the residue of his climax melting into the sheets as you hissed and shot him a look over your shoulder, "You're disgusting—"

To your surprise — and horror? — you could tell he was still semi-hard and the way he grasped your thighs to drag you closer to him confirmed that he was continuing without question, "Are you still hard?"

It's really just an observation, and he knows that too, but he nods, "Uh huh."

The shock that traveled warp and weft up the nerves that intwined your spine earned him the symphonic moan he was starting to be pleased with, your back arching as you felt the dulled stretch of his cock reenter you. You couldn't figure out how to breathe without feeling like you were going to cum again, shallowly attempting not to fidget as he agonizingly pressed every inch into you. As his fingers ghosted up your torso and onto your breast, you were tempted to lift yourself up and away as his thumb and index went to twist at your already sore nipples — erect for the entirety of when he first fucked you. Squirming your hips against him, the right side of your face pressed into the mattress, you could barely utter a noise as he suddenly began creating a pace once more. The amount of overstimulation had you listening to your heavy breathing in an almost anxious pattern, Jaebeom spreading you from behind as you heard — and felt — his warm saliva drip down your ass and over his cock as it entered you.

"Slow down," you moaned, shivering as he managed to find the exact location that caused you to even unravel the first time. As the arrogant imp he was, he responded with the same words you had used on him earlier that day, "You can say anything you like, that doesn't mean that's how things work."

With that, he bit down on his lip before slamming his hips right into yours, causing you to choke up as your vision further blurred into a galaxy of exposed peppered lights. You whined in pleasure as he repeated this same technique over and over and over, the sudden impacts were so gratifying you didn't even realize how quickly your next orgasm crept up on you until all you could do was gasp, feeling the sudden release as your ears went mute — the lack of oxygen cutting into your passageway even without his hand on your throat.

Growling at the feeling of how hard you clenched around him, he managed his composure as he groaned out in exasperation, "Already?"

Yes already, your chest heaved as you felt your body wash over with soreness and delight while Jaebeom kept thrusting into you. Shivering, you felt his fingers find their way back to your swollen clit as he rotated his middle finger against your overstimulated bundle of nerves, "S-Stop!"

Of course, he ignored you. Burying your face into the feather stuffed pillows, you cursed as you felt your eyes well up from the immense pleasure, a descent down to a labyrinth you had never explored even on your own. You swore you were going to black out if Jaebeom didn't hurry and finish, your hips quivering and threatening to fall flat without the iron grip his fingers had. Leaning forward, he pressed his chin into your shoulder before nudging his nose into your neck, "I'd think you were falling asleep if you weren't so fucking noisy."

The way he spoke into the bowl of your ear, dousing his warm breath against your hair matted skin, forced you to melt closer into him to your disdain. Reclining back without warning, he hoisted you up with your back against his broad chest, "Fuck you." It was honestly all you could manage as you hiccuped through his sharp thrusts, moaning and hooking your free arm around his neck to balance yourself against him.

"You are, don't get too ahead of yourself."

Much to your surprise, you realized internally that both you and Mr. Im had assumed the worst with the new work colleague situation and were pleasantly met with competence and preparation on both ends. Despite his horrible attitude towards you, his temperament towards other business partners and clients surfaced as mild mannered with a tasteful personality; it honestly felt like you were observing an entirely different species — as if the moment you exited the car together and entered the new building it had garnered some sort of genetic mutation at that very moment which rendered his origins slack. Suddenly he was the new overseeing CEO, Mr. Im, and he created such grace in a room you hardly believed he wasn’t body swapped when you had been looking down at the business card you received or pressing a button for your floor in the elevator. It didn’t, however, fool you into thinking otherwise of his prior behavior — he was still a menace — but you hoped that the well showered compliments and kindness from the opposing party’s head of the hierarchy that were poured over you as an administrative lead proposed at least some doubt if he were still pondering to terminate you.

“And to think she’s here on her first day,” the conversation was rerouted to you suddenly as everyone wrapped up their finalized closing comments. Clicking your pen to return its nib, you gave a humble smile before bowing your head forward, “It’s been a pleasure and a very special opportunity granted to me.”

These were business lies, but what was new in the superficial world created by massive empty headed moguls who were puppeteers amongst their greatest talent? Prepared to give your final exit and head home to wash away this nightmare, you were held steady by Mr. Shin — the director who was initiating the merger — as his expression seemed to have some sort of excitement zip past it, an impression of exuberance you weren’t quite sure how to place. Vocalizing your last name, he continued, “You and Mr. Im have nothing else after this, right?”

No, but I want to head home and drown in my bath tub and maybe a glass of pinot noir.

“No sir, we do not.”

“Please join me for a drink! We should celebrate your first day.”

What a pitiful and pathetic excuse to create faux harmonious feelings with Mr. Im — though you respected his decision as not to completely accept the terms that were laid in front of you today — this was a redundant way of creating an even longer appeal that could possibly only infuse tension. Parting your lips to politely reject the offer, you felt Mr. Im suddenly cut into your response, “Honestly we’re both rather busy.”

Though a paraphrased version of these words were on your tongue, you couldn’t help but be annoyed because for the past three or so hours, all you did was watch someone who had the highest level of social awareness and emotional intelligence communicate flawlessly amongst a room of stiff business men and yet he could not spare you? You simply nodded in agreement as Mr. Shin frowned, “Nonsense! There is always time for a drink.”

Stealing a peek at Mr. Im, your lungs almost burst as you suppressed them from your laughter — his jaw clenched in frustration. Instead, to appeal to the devil’s advocate, you decided to fuck with him, “We’d love to attend, did you have a place in mind, Mr. Shin?”

You may have been socially exhausted but if you were going to be executed, you weren’t going alone. Again with the saccharine grin, you beamed at your CEO as you watched a flurry of rage shutter through his eyes — only for a moment — before his polite demeanor resurfaced, “…Yes of course.”

Silent through dinner, as you had expected, the conversations furthered to delve into the hearty relation of the two conglomerate leaders. You were a good listener, most of the time, and especially now since you wanted nothing more but to be home. You learned that Mr. Im was named Jaebeom, that he was likely going to die alone with his cats — he had five — in his vague description of the neighborhood he resided it, which only made you assume he was private. You also learned he held concurrent degrees in international business and economics, both furthered in graduate school from — against your better beliefs — full scholarships. You also learned his stepfather seemed a saint, taking in his single mother and him, no questions asked and full of love.

“What year were you born?”

“1994,” the polite reply had you suddenly choking on your sip of soju. Mr. Im turned to you with fake concern as you held a hand up, “My apologies.”

“Not great at handling your liquor huh?” Mr. Shin commented, another misogynist’s proverbial response, as you smiled and shook your head, “Oh no, I just assumed our CEO was younger.”

It sounded like an insult and you intend it to be in some ways, but you weren’t lying, you did think he was younger than yourself. Jaebeom narrowed his eyes at you but the feigned smile seemed to hide his sinister expression, “Now why would you think that?”

“No reason in particular.”

You also learned that, even though you were not anywhere near on good terms with Mr. Im, he did hold some mercy for you. After the director’s comment about your alcohol consumption, which was wrong but regardless, he began catching your pours — despite the fact you were watching him grow exhausted, dehydrated, and inevitably drunk. You assume it was for appearances but were thankful nonetheless since your haze was finally starting to let up, and the sobering process had started. After several hours of banter, you finally bid your goodbyes with one another before starting towards the station. You were hoping to catch the last train before the rails shut down for the night. Not without a shadow, however, Mr. Im quietly following behind you as he shot off unsolicited comments, “Not sure why he had to make an excuse to give you a welcoming party.”

You simply rolled your eyes as you scanned your card against the sensor to a nearly empty station. Hearing the dim “beep” behind you, you wondered why he couldn’t have just taken a taxi. Shuffling down the steps, you wanted to get as far away from the tower figure stalking you. Too bad he was a giant lump of matter that traveled at twice your pace, “Maybe this was more of a goodbye party.”

Oh so he was still on the termination thing, right*. Rolling your eyes again, you sat down on one of the empty seat slots as he plopped down beside you, “The station is empty and there’s so many other chairs can’t you sit somewhere else?” Hissing at him, he turned to you as his eyes seemed to search for something that wasn’t there and simply laughed before looking towards the empty rails in silence.

“…You sure don’t act like you were born in ‘94,” scoffing you stood up and attempted to find another seat a row down before his reflexes seemed to show they were completely in tact, fingers shackled your wrist with contempt, “And what’s that supposed to mean.”

“That you act like a brat,” retorting at him you shook your arm in an attempt to get free as he yanked you over. Yelping, you tripped towards him with a frown, “I’m surprised you say that.”

The feigned expression of hurt wanted to make you dry heave as you stood in front of him, arm limp in his hold. Another sudden unsolicited comment fell through his lips as his eyes dilated in a different way than they had when you had entered his office unannounced earlier that day, “…You smell nice.”

Disgusted, your expression contorted when you felt his thumb gently glide over your wrist. However, you were afraid to snatch your hand away in fear his reflexes would yank you back even harder. You stood, instead, stoic as you stared at him incredulously and praying for the chugging wheels of a train to appear and allow you to depart. There wasn’t more you could possibly endure, you think, but you were met with yet another surprise as your looked down, horrified, to find your CEO’s stepson really had to have been born some years more recent as he had his hormones on full display.

“…Mr. Im, please let me go.”

“Mm…” his voice rattled quietly, but you could tell he had sobered up already — entirely annoying for his own benefit — as his fingers continued to clasp your wrist in his hold.

This was the most vile man you had ever encountered — which said a lot when you were nearly always in male dominated environments — and he seemed to know and fully understand that. There was something so infuriating and rage filling as the spaces even in the depths of your being could not fathom, encasing a frustration that knocked through your caged silence that finally caused your outburst, “Why the fuck is your dick hard you pervert, let me go!” As you wailed in the empty station, there’s a moment of confusion that winded over Jaebeom’s face. It’s as if he was missing some pieces to your claim, and when he realized and really understood what you were concerned about — and you can tell — he flushed with embarrassment. Suddenly, for the first time today, he was bowing and profusely apologizing.

It was a nice sight but didn’t change the fact that you were absolutely petrified that this towering man, after everything he put you through, was visibly hard in a public space with you. Exhaling as a sense of release however, that he acknowledged his crimes, you began to step away before hearing some mumbled reasonings that were beyond you. Even Jaebeom wasn’t quite sure why he began spouting them, “I have trouble around women, so it wasn’t you in particular. I’m so sorry I gave you a hard time, but I thought it may have been different because I spent most of the day in your company—”

“…You have trouble around women?” Hard to believe when the entirety of the female population at main branch’s office was ready to sit up on his desk and spread for their new CEO — not that you were eavesdropping, but you heard a lot of chatter before and after you were transferred. When you repeat his claim, you realize immediately that he wasn’t bluffing and that his shame grows apparent. It is the first time you see the expression of guilt and defeat as his features revert to an even more childlike demeanor.

The train finally arrived, the little chime playing in the speakers and echoing through the surfaces as you stand silently awaiting his explanation, ignoring the last departure. The contemplation that riddled his face seemed to go between completely discarding everything he mentioned to simply being honest, “…Yes.”

“In what way?”

Knitting his brows together, he seemed to be unable to tongue out the words he wanted to use to properly articulate himself without seeming more like a pervert, “In a traumatic way.”

You practically snorted at the excuse before rolling your eyes, it seemed like some pathetic way to weasel out of the fact that he was some sick fuck but by the way he was speaking, perhaps it wasn’t? This wasn’t some glorified explanation but rather a sacred and honest confession held in a booth, between two strangers. You wanted to trust him, truly, but he made sure you shouldn't have after his performative gestures today. Hesitation filled his dreaded voice as he surrendered, “…I really struggle interacting with women in general—”

“And you really expect me to believe that when there are women in our office?”

“I try to avoid them, and it’s why I requested a male secretary in particular.”

For some strange reason, this suddenly made sense and somewhere deep in a crevice that was lost in the galaxy of your being, you felt a sense of pity, “…I see.” But it was somewhere really, really, deep.

“I spent most of the day sitting beside you, entirely focusing on keeping you as more of a fragment of my imagination rather than an actual person,” this seemed insulting out of context, but you continued to listen, “so I assumed it would have been fine to interact with you since we were talking normally at the meeting and dinner.”

The tone in his voice turned shy, but not because he was finding a scape goat to protect his actions rather, because he was disappointed in the resulting outcome from the lack of experience and unstable accuracy brought him. Gently dragging your eyes down his figure, seeing the still apparent source of your horror which made chills infect you, you snapped out of your pity filled daze when security requested that the two of you leave the station as they were closing up for the night. Shoving your portfolio case at him, you gesture for him to shield his eyesore of an erection as you exited the station with him silently. The awkward steps onto the empty sidewalk had you searching for a solution in the cracks on the concrete, as you often found yourself attempting. The curse of being an instrumental communicator. An unlikely scenario came to mind but you decided to wait on that particular weighing before offering Mr. Im to share a cab.

“It’s late shouldn’t we head home?”

The erratic pace hinted to you that he was getting close, sloppy and lacking purpose or precision, even his skilled finger against your clit began apply just a bit too much pleasure as you doubled over and realized the blinding release that seeped down your thighs in a snapping constriction, "Jaebeom please." You had never heard yourself beg so wantonly as you squirmed to get your hips away from him.

Twenty minutes pass and not a single car — let alone a cab — passed the road in sight. It was a normally, busy, street filled with commuters and yet not a single soul graced your line of vision. A few feet away stood your very uncomfortable CEO, marked with shame as he awkwardly held your portfolio in front of him while he messaged several drivers to see if any of them were free and awake to give both of you a ride back to your homes. You wanted to commend yourself for the amount of pity you were able to have for such a vile human being, but you remind yourself exhaustion and the lingering taste of alcohol were rendering you soft.

"Any luck?"

"None," turning the screen of his mobile towards you, your eyes skimmed the little "1" besides all the unread, repeated messages.

"...Fifteen minute grace period, right?" You were referring to the time frame of most appointments before finding a bench and dropping your weight onto it. Jaebeom sat beside you quietly, staring at the screen of his phone, as if he could control the actions of the message receivers with his mind through sheer concentration.

For the first time all day, the silence felt less like viscous tar strung between you but as if you were swimming in honey besides someone you may have been misunderstanding due to misconstrued circumstances, "...You said you had some trauma?"

"That's really not something I think I want to share right now," the mumbling filled his mouth through a sigh as he stared off at the brightly outlined skyline in the distance, creating a fake horizon amongst the navy light polluted sky. Pursing your lips, you nodded quietly before following with a sigh of your own, "...I appreciate your honesty, at least."

"Yours too."

If you weren't exhausted, you might have been able to offer a better laugh, "So are you still going to fire me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Are you going to blackmail me?" Jaebeom tipped his head back to capture more of the sky before lazily dropping his head to look over at you. Returning his gaze, you furrowed your brows in confusion, "For what?"

"Sexual harassment." It took a moment for you to connect what he was referring to before you burst into laughter, still hoarse and not quite as strong as you could have emitted, "...You know, I don't think you're lying for some reason."

"I wasn't."

"Yeah, so I'll let it slide," you pause before snorting.

The silence consumed the night as you checked your watch, before Jaebeom's voice broke through once more, "You did good today."

"Thank y—"

"For a secretary," you rolled your eyes as he ruined the compliment, frustrating you, "You know I was an operations manager."

"You sure are proud to tell me you got demoted." Absolutely awestruck, you felt the relaxation that had entered your body moments ago turn back into frustration. On a whim, one you probably would have never dared to attempt had the situation been different and you weren't so exasperated and absolutely annihilated from the day's events, you took your fist and slammed it into the portfolio that was sitting on Jaebeom's lap. Absolutely breathless, he choked out violently before glaring at you with seething anger.

"I didn't, I was forced to transfer to teach you how to do your job, to help you."

"You're not doing a very good job at it," rolling his eyes, voice still strained from the pressure and soreness you offered his condition you smiled triumphantly, "Says who?"

"From my experience, good employees don't go around punching superiors in the groin."

"We're even now."

"This wasn't sexual harassment, it was battery," deadpanning, he checked his phone again. Rather than ask if he got a response, you hear another echoed sigh that signaled you both probably weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

"...So do you just get erect whenever you're around women?"

"Why do you keep bringing this up?"

"It's kind of funny, it's like the opposite of erectile dysfunction right?" It's the first time he looks mortified, pale, when he looked at you and the way you phrased his condition. The stiffness in his body hints that you're probably right on the money, "Let me guess, you probably went to dozens of doctors and medical professionals and they say it's probably a psychological thing that has manifested into your physiological response."

Silence.

"So, because you think you're a big strong man," cooing at him, you pouted your lips to sear into him deeper with your taunts, "you've been warding off confronting your trauma of women and through sheer willpower, avoid them. But every once and while, there's something like this, and you decide to act like an unbearable prick so you can pretend women don't exist."

The way you've read into him has him absolutely speechless, vulnerable, and frustrated that you were able to peel back his layers so easily and swiftly from just a few focused interactions alone. There is nothing he can offer back to rebuttal and salvage the very little of what his pride had left. Instead, he sat quietly and gripped his phone, the glazed over expression on his face indicating he was no longer listening but he wasn't thinking of anything in particular either. You were still human so in some ways, this caused an induced amount of guilt to wash over you, "...Have you ever tried to fix it."

"Of course."

"How?"

"I tried to interact normally with women, naturally," nodding slow, you mirrored his gesture in understanding before fidgeting with the chiffon material of your dress, "And that didn't work out?"

"Not really," he laughed bitterly.

"...Do you think I can help you?" You convince yourself it's an instrumental solution, it's something you want to think is part of your job. The thing you were good at, you know, and the thing he took the severest blow in belittling you about. Maybe part of it even involved spite.

"I don't know, can you?" Rolling his eyes, he stared at you in disbelief before you nudged yourself closer on the bench beside him, risking a lot more than you could have imagined, "I'll only tell you once, Mr. Im, but I'm very good at my job."

Peering down at your watch, you point it towards him, "Fifteen minutes are up."

"Why? Don't you wanna cum?" He used a taunting tone, again repeating something you had uttered earlier. Almost regretful, your ears became even more dull as he roughly pulled out while you winced, being forced onto your back as he hooked his hands beneath your knees. What was the result of this man's stamina and why was he able to fuck this long? Rolling your head back in surrender, you no longer attempted to swallow your noises as he reentered — hopefully for the last time — slowly rowing his hips back and forth as your toes curled, feeling the sensation of your circulation lapsing through your extremities. It takes only a few gently pushes, and he pulls out before finishing on your chest for the last time.

He's lost all his focus, and in a shitty attempt to regain it, he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours — lips ghosting near and swallowing your curses. As you feel his weight pull closer, you placed your palm over his mouth, "...Don't."

This was only work, and like every precise decision you ever made, every experiment you were — you made sure to do everything well.

[ chapter two ]

all work, no play series masterlist

#got7 #got7 scenario #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 jayb #got7 jaebeom #jaebeom scenario #jaebeom scenarios #jaebeom imagines #jayb scenario #jayb scenarios #jayb imagines #jayb smut #jaebeom smut #smut #got7 smut #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfics

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coexiising · 3 years

Text

angel of small death & the codeine scene - anakin skywalker

SUMMARY ◆ anakin is just so fucking enamored by you that he can’t take it holding back from professing it anymore. porn with a plot lol.

WARNING(S) ◆ smut, lowkey public sex but not rly, y’all just fuck in his ship in the hangar, dirty talk, unedited

WORDS ◆ 2.5k

NOTE ◆ this is based off of the song ‘angel of small death & the codeine scene’ by hozier so yeah listen to that if you desire but i can’t stop you if u don’t. this is really short lol im just indulging

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“YOU SAID THAT YOU WERE HAVING TROUBLE WITH YOUR SHIP?” YOU ASKED THE GENERAL, WALKING UP THE RAMP. it was later in the day, and just as you were going to call it a day and settle down for the night, you got a call on your comms asking for you to come down to the hangar. that was where the commander told you that they were experiencing some problems with general skywalker’s ship and sent you to do your job.

you hadn’t been working in tech for super long, still young enough to make a real job out of it. but you joined the side of the republic in the war because you didn’t want to see democracy die, and if you could play a small part in that, that was good enough for you.

there was a clank of something mechanical from the main control center and no response to your question, prompting you to walk towards the noise to find out if the general was making the problem worse. the second you came within a few feet of him, he jumped and turned around to face you, wrench in his hand. “maker, you scared me,” he stated.

a small grin made it’s way onto your face. “aren’t you supposed to be able to sense things coming up behind you?”

generally, you wouldn’t be talking that way to a general of the republic. but anakin was different, more close to your age and really didn’t care all that much for titles or respective ranks. you could see it with the way he treated the soldiers with as much respect he would give to someone like general kenobi or general windu.

anakin laughed, stepping out of the way to let you see what he was attempting to do. you saw all these wires popping out of place, and one of the pipes completely busted out of its socket. how the hell had he managed to do this? you turned back to face him and cocked your head to the side, motioning at the carnage and saying, “how did this even happen?”

you allowed your eyes to only look into his blue ones, because you knew the second you let them do what they wanted, you would look over him like he was a meal. and to your defense, anakin was incredibly hot. there was no denying it. but he was a jedi, and a general, and to the most of your knowledge nothing was ever going to happen.

he cleared his throat. “just a . . . just a mishap that’s all, look, can you fix it or not?”

“yeah, it shouldn’t take too long,” you replied, setting down your bag filled with tools and beginning to work. and then hopefully you would finally be done for the day and could get some much needed rest.

“alright, i’ll be back in just a moment,” anakin told you, his hand coming to your waist for just a moment to push past you. you knew that it was just something that he did absentmindedly, but it sent a shock through your body, making your brain hotwire for just a moment. but as soon as it was there, it was gone and you were alone in his ship.

anakin knew that he was a reckless person. it was evident to anyone that most of the time he did what he wanted, not taking into account any of the possible consequences afterwards. you would think that being a jedi wouldn’t keep that much room for error, since sometimes the weight of the galaxy sat on his shoulders, but there were times where he felt himself breaking away from the jedi code. and that happened the second he saw you.

he knew that it was wrong to lust over some mechanic that he only saw from afar most days, but you were just so goddamn beautiful he couldn’t help himself. anakin admired the way that you carried yourself, confidently in anything that you did, the way that your hair framed your face every day, and the face you made when you were concentrating.

at first it just started off as a passing thought, just a brief ‘oh, she’s hot’ instinct that everyone had once in a while, but now he knew that he wanted you. and anakin was planning on just letting the feeling run its course until it was sucessfully gone, but the second you walked into his ship, he could feel the want practically jumping off of you.

he had to have you, especially now since he knew the feeling was mutual. there was just the tricky task of initiating something.

you puffed out a small breath, biting the inside of your cheek as your fingers carefully patched wires together. it was getting later and still no sign of anakin again. weird, you thought to yourself, but not so unlikely. it’s not like you needed him to complete your job anyways. you went back to work, wondering what could have possibly happened to general skywalker.

it seems that devising a plan to get your attention was harder than the man wanted to admit, because he had been standing next to the ramp for almost ten minutes now since he had left for a quick daily briefing. he was probably looking like an idiot just standing there. to hell with it. he would just improvise. like he did most things.

“you finished yet?” you heard anakin ask from behind you. you shook your head in response, taking a moment to look at him.

“your power converters are basically fried,” you told anakin, your cheeks flaring up at the way he was looking down at you. sure, there had always been a slight height difference between the two of you, but you were crouching down right level with his hips. you bit your lip and immediately got back to work, pretending like you weren’t just thinking about giving him a blowjob right then and there.

the problem was that anakin knew exactly what you were thinking and that smirk came onto his face, leaning against the wall closest to you and watching you work. your face flared up, feeling his eyes trail on you. “do you have to watch me while i’m working?” you asked him in a hushed tone, as if you weren’t trying to ask him that indirectly.

“am i making you nervous?”

your stomach dropped, you were so flustered by him that the cable almost slipped out of your hands onto the floor. luckily you were quick to conceal it and you hoped that anakin didn’t notice. but he did, he was watching your every move, seeing how long it took before you broke. “no, general skywalker, you are not making me nervous, just tired that’s all,” you said, not daring to look at him.

though, the next thing anakin asked caught you off guard.

“when are you just going to admit you want me?”

you would be lying if you said your knees didn’t feel like giving out right then and there. anakin said it in a deep voice, like he was teasing you for your attraction towards him. your mouth felt dry, like someone was stuffing cotton balls right down your throat. there wasn’t anything you thought you could say to try and defend yourself.

instead you stood up and crossed your arms, looking into those eyes to decifer what he was thinking. anakin was looking right back at you with those magnificent eyes of yours, yet there was a hint of something else there. he was being mischevious and you knew it, toying around with you all because he could feel the feelings you were giving off. “fine, general, i do feel something towards you, but what does that have to do with anything?” you said, deciding to take the high ground.

it was like a lightbulb went off in his head, and before you knew it he was walking up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer. woah. this was not the reaction that you thought you were going to get. honestly, you thought that he would kick you out and order for someone else to come fix his ship. this was definitely not that.

“I asked you,” he started, one of his hands coming up along your back to your neck. you shivered and leaned into his touch. “because i want you too.” both of you were staring into each other’s eyes, almost daring each other to make the first move.

and that’s all it took before you were leaning in, hesitating for just one second more as your nose brushed against his own. there was still time for you to compose yourself and walk away, leave your desires there and forget this ever happened.

to hell with it. you wanted him and he was looking at you like you put stars in the sky. the stupid jedi code would just have to be pushed aside for the moment, because you were closing the gap between both of you and kissing him, body intermingling with his own.

it was a mesh of your gasps from his roaming hands and his groans from your own hands tangling and tugging on those curls of his that were just begging to be ran through. you could’ve sworn anakin tasted like berries and he kissed with so much want and need that it was almost hard to keep up with him. but you did nonetheless, wanting as much as he was willing to give you. these types of things only happened in your wildest dreams.

your back was soon pressed against the wall that he was once leaning on, one hand on your waist and the other sitting comfortably on your neck to keep you close to him. the air was hot and heavy surrounding both of you and you pressed your body against him, signaling that you needed him right now.

anakin pulled away, cheeks red from lack of air. “the guards come to check the hangar every 2200 hours,” he told you, forehead pressing against your own. you looked at the clock behind him and saw that it was almost that time, and that you had at least fifteen minutes maybe less if the guards decided to come a few minutes early.

you were quick to think, your eyes landing on the chair near the controls. he seemed to hear your thoughts, pressing a kiss against your lips before bringing you over there by your hands. you pushed him down onto his seat, pulling down your pants just enough and watching as he pulled himself out of his pants.

of course anakin skywalker was packing.

you swore that if you could take your time with him, you would already be on your knees for him. oh well, there would just have to be a next time.

“hurry,” anakin said to you, helping you up onto him so you were straddling him, your knees on either side of his sitting body on the chair. you put your hands against his shoulders for support and once you were ready, you sunk down onto him and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he filled you up just right and it was better than you could ever imagine. anakin panted below you, head bowing down to nip at the exposed parts of your neck.

the second the pain began to subside, you experimentally moved your hips forward, feeling a wave of pleasure course through your entire body. it almost stopped you from moving, which was not good for the time constraint. just as you were about to begin again, anakin grabbed your hips forcefully and lifted you up slightly, biceps flexing as his hips raised to meet your own.

you couldn’t stop yourself from making noise while he continued with this fast pace in the same way, mouth wide open and hands shaking as they tried to keep their hold on him. you were hot all over, every time he pushed into you it felt like he was splitting you open so deliciously. the noise being made by both of you incredibly lewd, though it was on neither of your minds.

you always thought that anakin looked so good after battle, when there was still sweat on his brow and his hair was all messy. he looked like that now, except you were the person messing up his hair and making him sweat, and that made your heart swoon. you wanted to kiss him and now there was nothing stopping you. your lips attached to his in a hungry kiss, tongue slipping right into his mouth and prodding against his own. everything was hot, sloppy, and messy and you didn’t care.

“you look so hot like this,” anakin told you against your lips, pulling back and watching your face as he pounded into you. and he wasn’t lying, it was one of the best things he’s ever seen in his life. he made sure that he would remember this moment so he could replay it in his mind over and over again. “if i would’ve known you’d take me this good i would’ve done something sooner.”

you couldn’t respond to him with words, only moans that came from deep in your throat. you weren’t going to last much longer, not when every time his hips hit your own it rubbed against your clit for just a short moment. you tried to help him with the movement, circling your hips and feeling the release creep up on you before you could compose yourself.

“anakin,” you moaned out as you hit that much needed orgasm, looking right into his eyes as you fell apart. you were so sensitive that you whined against his neck where your head now laid, making use of your lips by kissing along his tanned neck.

a few more thrusts and he was there, cumming right inside of you and making you hum in contentment. the two of you caught your breath against one another, his hand coming to rub against your back in a way that was surprisingly really loving. you moved your head so you were facing him and he leaned in to give you one last kiss, pushing away the hair that had fallen into your eyes.

a new voice in the hangar made you jump, realizing that the cloned guards were here. both of you scrambled to get up, helping each other dress and look at least a little presentable. your legs were shaking with every step and you heard anakin laugh a little from behind you, making you hit his shoulder jokingly. the footsteps came closer and soon enough one of the commanders was looking at the two of you. for good measure, you picked up your bag of supplies.

“general skywalker, you’re out here late,” the guard said, giving a look at you. “is everything alright?”

“yes,” anakin responded. “the mechanic here was just finishing up work on my ship.”

as soon as the guards stepped away, you gave him a look. “you know i didn’t even finish repairments, right?”

anakin shrugged, a grin on his face. “i guess you’ll just have to come back tomorrow then, same time?”

“sure thing, general.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars smut #anakin skywalker x you

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decennia · 3 years

Note

i give u free reign to infodump ab all of the knights and the og army bc i am vv intrigued agjgssgsh

THERE IS SO MUCH HERE OMFG MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER ASK ME TO INFO DUMP BECAUSE I WILL TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT—

I've separated it into sections:

The Knights of Walpurgis, and the motivations for their assigned sins.

Dumbledore's First Resistance, and the motivations for their assigned virtues.

The dynamics between the opposing contenders.

Given the sheer volume of information, I've included a cut. Please enjoy this manip that I am still very proud of.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS (later known as Death Eaters) Tom Riddle (Pride)

Pride and arrogance were very large contributing factors to Tom Riddle's downfall in the end, and honestly, the whole idea for the gifset came from Florence + The Machines' Seven Devils playing while casually thinking of Dagrim and Tom, and then about how perfectly Tom would fit as Lucifer.

Dagrim Patil (Avarice)

When questioned about what she wants, and what Riddle promised her in exchange for her unwavering loyalty, her response is, quite simply: everything. Dagrim grew up starved not for affection, but recognition. And what she was denied in childhood, she would take in adulthood by force. Her philosophy is that if something is worth wanting, it is worth taking.

Cantankerous Nott IV (Lust)

We know so little about Theodore Nott's father from the source material, other than he was elderly, and he raised Theo himself. And that he was a Death Eater, of course. His name is an ode to his ancestor, the Cantankerous Nott who created the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood directory. I assigned him "lust" purely for the events leading to the conception of his son (sis, it gets messy).

Abraxas Malfoy (Envy)

Abraxas Malfoy envied Tom Riddle to the point of a half attempted mutiny. He was quickly put in his place, his co-conspirators made examples of, and spared only for his close friendship with Dagrim, who pleaded for his life. Riddle, who trusted Dagrim to a fault for all she'd done to earn it, conceded. Abraxas would later prove himself to Riddle again, regaining his seat among Riddle's favoured generals. He was the one who taught Lucius to never disobey the Dark Lord, and he was not a kind teacher.

Ulysses Mulciber (Gluttony)

Indulgence and excess, spoiled rotten and filthy rich. The Mulcibers were the richest of the Sacred at one point in their lives, rivalled only by the Malfoys. Ulysses never knew the meaning of "enough," and was a glutton not only in all manners of vice, but also for cruelty, dealing it out carelessly with little to no regard for the repercussions he was well protected from by his noble standing and wealth. He was one of Riddle's greatest allies and sponsors, and instrumental in his rise to power.

Carmilla Avery (Wrath)

Carmilla was in the year above Riddle, and was quick to anger and slow to calm. Her temper was legendary, and even her younger brothers – also admitted into the Death Eater ranks – feared her. She had an untempered fury, a rage at the world for no reason at all. She developed an unhealthy codependency with Abraxas Malfoy, who served to have a soothing presence over her. People seldom survive crossing her, as her reputation dictates.

Serafine Lestrange (Sloth)

Serafine is not lazy (as the sin "sloth" would suggest), she just lacks the motivations to pursue the goals that are expected of her. A particularly bright witch, and a wealthy one too, she never applied herself at school for she didn't see the need. Instead, she fell into a fascination of the Dark Arts, where she met Riddle, perusing the Restricted Section. She is rather discontented with life, disillusioned from already such a young age. She initially joins Riddle's gang for the excitement of it all.

DUMBLEDORE'S FIRST RESISTANCE (later known as the Order of the Phoenix in its official conception in 1970)

Albus Dumbledore (Patience)

Name a man more patient than Dumbledore, I'll wait. Better yet, he'll wait, because he's patient as hell. So patient, in fact, he waited until after Harry's supposed death to come to him as a hallucination and tell him about how he was a Horcrux.

Rathin Patil (Temperance)

Temperance is abstinence, and I wanted to explore the kind of toll having his sister so far gone into the dark would have on any man, let alone one who really cared for her and wanted to do right by her. Rathin is not a perfect man, he is still fallible, and unfortunately, he develops a dependent comfort in inebriation when Dagrim disappears with Riddle. He pulls himself back together, especially when he becomes Isaiah Moody's partner at the Ministry, and he begins to pursue Miraya.

Miraya Varma (Diligence)

Methodical and persistent, Miraya Varma earned herself a position at the Ministry immediately out of Hogwarts where she would later go on to form her own task force within the Ministry specifically designed for the interrogation and recommended sentencing of dark wizards and witches. She has been known to put her duty first, up until the birth of her son, Divyansh Patil, father to Padma and Parvati.

Isaiah Moody (Humility)

For a very long time, people seldom knew the Moody name, and that was the way Isaiah liked it. He believed that his line of work would endanger his loved ones (in spite of his wife being in the same profession) and so he never took credit for the numerous arrests he made. It was Isaiah who suspected something was strange about Morfin Gaunt's arrest while investigating the Riddle Massacre, and consulted Dumbledore about it. Once his identity was discovered and he was viewed as a threat by Riddle, an attack was made on his heavily pregnant wife, jeopardizing her and his unborn boy's (Alastor) life.

Minerva McGonagall (Chastity)

Mini Minnie is seventeen, my dudes. But not only that, Minerva grew up with a religious father (he was canonically a reverend), who probably taught her his values. Also given the fact that Minerva was the first of the younger generation to participate and involve herself in the war (she sought out Dumbledore and enlisted herself into his Resistance, fearing her family would be made into another statistic if she didn't at least do something to intervene), she really didn't have much time to think about something as arbitrary as the concept of virginity. Also, it's the 1950s.

Corinne Scamander (Kindness)

Corrine is honestly the greatest. She has all of the tenacity of Tina, and the best qualities of Newt. It was Dumbledore's previous bond with Newt that encouraged him to recruit her, and she willingly accepted, because of course she would. She'd always been the soft spoken girl with a tender touch and a love for life, and she was often the advocate for hope in the resistance. She was adept in a few healing charms she'd learned from her father, and was something of a specialist in magical beings, proving herself to be highly valuable while Riddle was expanding his ranks with all manner of dark creatures.

Declan Diggory (Charity)

Sacrifice is in the Diggory blood, and Cedric's grandfather, Declan, was not the first to prove it. He also, unfortunately, wasn't the last, but he sure was one of the best. Selfless to a fault, Declan would willingly get hypothermia if it meant someone else would have warmth. Diggory's contributions to the war effort consisted of offering sanctuary and shelter to muggleborns who received death threats, and orchestrating the evacuations of targeted muggle residences. He was the leader of a small faction of the resistance, including, but not limited to: Fleamont Potter, Enoch Longbottom, Wilhelm Shacklebolt, and Ramona McKinnon.

DYNAMICS (just the contenders for now because this is hella long)

Albus Dumbledore vs. Tom Riddle

Adversaries, a fair deal of mistrust and guilt from Dumbledore's side (upon reflection, he'd been the one to introduce Tom to the wizarding world; even though he knows that if Riddle had been left unchecked, the risk of him becoming an Obscurus would've resulted in catastrophe all the same). Riddle sees Dumbledore as nothing more than a foolish old man, a pest, and an obstacle to overcome at first, but learns to begrudgingly respect Dumbledore's strength and mastery of magic (after all, Riddle only knew him as the Transfiguration teacher before, and thought the accounts of Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald had been exaggerated to great effect). Riddle's hubris was believing he could defeat Dumbledore on his own, thinking himself already stronger than Grindelwald ever hoped to be.

Rathin Patil vs. Dagrim Patil

Rathin had always been very protective of Dagrim, and loved her dearly, although his acts of affection were often misinterpreted as pity and condescension. This only served to push them further apart. When Dagrim turned to the Dark Arts and found solace in Riddle, it revolted Rathin, as he was hugely against the corruption the Dark Arts has on the performing witch or wizard, and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He still very much loves her, and it hurts him to fight her. Dagrim, on the other hand, finds catharsis in duelling her brother, believing it to be justice for the way her parents treated her and the little he did to dissuade them.

Miraya Varma vs. Cantankerous Nott

A mutual respect and an academic rivalry, Cantankerous and Miraya were not friends by any means, but not enemies, either. Cantankerous even went as far as to warn Miraya of an impending attack, allowing her to evacuate the building. But although he knows she's clever, he also knows that she's incredibly stubborn, and displayed little surprise to find her awaiting him in the now vacant building. They are equally matched, and their unique relationship spans several decades, even into Cantankerous' failed run at Minister for Magic, and Theodore and the Patil twins' time at Hogwarts. She was present at his trial following the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and watched as he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater.

Isaiah Moody vs. Abraxas Malfoy

Given his profession, Isaiah has a lot of enemies on the Sacred Twenty-Eight who are loyal to the Dark Lord. One such enemy is Abraxas Malfoy. When Tom gets word of Moody's involvement in solving the Riddle Massacre, he sends Malfoy and a newer Death Eater, Evangeline Rosier, to hinder the investigation. Abraxas and Evangeline were responsible for the attack on Isaiah's heavily pregnant wife, who, if she hadn't been an Auror herself, would've never survived. Alastor Moody was prematurely born at St. Mungo's following the attack, and all of Isaiah's efforts were turned on exacting vengeance on those responsible. Malfoy went into hiding, but Isaiah, ruthless, managed to hunt down Rosier. She died under questioning, setting in motion a vicious cycle of vengeance between the Moodys and Rosiers. Once Isaiah had been killed by Evangeline's brother (Evan [who was named after her] Rosier's father), Abraxas deemed it safe to rejoin society.

Minerva McGonagall vs. Ulysses Mulciber

On the list of things Ulysses loathes, he would put half-bloods above muggleborns (although he turns a blind eye to his Dark Lord's blood status when it conveniences him). Half-bloods only serve as a reminder of the lowest and weakest of his kind; the unworthy muggleborns, the lecherous blood traitors, the vermin muggles. Mulciber prides himself as something of a "purifier," and finds great enjoyment in pruning family trees that have been poisoned by muggle blood into purity once more. He takes a great interest in Minerva McGonagall, given that she is an incredibly powerful witch at such a young age, and he wonders how glorious she would've been had she been a pureblood (a twisted and untrue belief among the Sacred Twenty-Eight during that time). Minerva, the threat of Mulciber weighing heavily on her, places her family under Dumbledore's protection. She vows to stop Mulciber and his perverse idea of justice.

Corinne Scamander vs. Carmilla Avery

It didn't take much to enrage Carmilla Avery, and Corinne had been caught in the tempest Carmilla's fury since the day they'd met. Carmilla, who took great pleasure in picking on people she deemed lesser, made a target out of Corinne, perceiving her kindness for weakness. During their time at Hogwarts, Corinne had gained the attention of Avery for being a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer, which only strengthened Carmilla's vindication. Corinne, who had been friends with Rubeus Hagrid prior to his expulsion, and who had almost fallen prey to the basilisk when she had heard Myrtle Warren's cries from the bathroom, never lowered herself to Carmilla's level nor did she rise to any of the challenges. This hurt Avery's ego, as she thought this was Corinne's way of claiming herself better than her. It wasn't until after Hogwarts that Carmilla's growing resentment came to a head, and, without the protection the school offered Corinne, Carmilla was looking to finally put an end to the blood traitor line of Scamander.

Declan Diggory vs. Serafine Lestrange

Declan and Serafine were childhood friends who drifted apart during their time at Hogwarts, particularly when she fell in with Riddle's crowd. She is viewed by Dumbledore as having the power to sway the entire outcome of the war, for if Serafine could be persuaded into leaving Riddle, her cousins (one of whom is the father of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange) would surely comply, and the families who held the Lestranges in high regard would be inclined to follow. This makes Declan and Serafine key pieces in Dumbledore's game of strategy. However, Serafine was disowned long before she defected from the Death Eaters, leaving the Lestranges firmly in Riddle's grasp. Although Serafine claimed to feel nothing for Diggory, she still refused to deal any real harm to him when they duel, in spite of having ample opportunity to do so; something which Riddle picked up on. She was later forced to torture Declan in front of him to prove her loyalty to the Dark Lord, something which Declan permitted her to do, knowing she had very little choice in the matter. He was left for dead, but Serafine would later secretly return with Corinne to get him medical attention. She gives her son, Francis, "Declan" as a middle name.

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aprilyroseee · 3 years

Text

Caste Heaven - chapter 30 ✨ (spoilers and summary)

Hey! 🌝 Chapter 30 came out on saturday. This time I couldn't buy the magazine because it's not available for purchasing. The photos are not mine but belong to a chinese girl who posts them on Weibo, a chinese website (here her account).

The chapter has 32 pages, but these images only cover part of it. While waiting for the whole chapter, I tried to sum up what happened. Let me first say that it's not accurate but reworked, so it's not meant to be the official translation.

Incipit: According to the forecast, it looks like this winter will be particularly harsh. "Help". The message Azusa sent to Karino thinking he could rely on him. Azusa's broken heart, who trusted him but was betrayed.

The chapter starts with Atsumu and Kuze walking to school. Atsumu clears his throat so Kuze asks him if he's caught a cold. Atsumu: "No, it's just a slight sore throat". Kuze gives him a cough drop and after thanking him, Atsumu tells him to go ahead.

The scene shifts to school. It seems that class 2-1 won first place at the cultural festival for the event they organized, the photo shotting in cosplay. However, the tension in the classroom between the higher and lower ranks hasn't changed. Azusa enters the classroom and some basketballs bounce at him (the work of his silly classmates). He grabs a ball and strongly throws it at Karino. Azusa: "You all are a bunch of fucking maggots swarming on dead meat". Mizobata shouts "Bastard!" but Karino stops him. Atsumu thinks something happened between Azusa and Karino. [If you notice, Azusa has a bandage on the left side of his forehead.😔 ]

Later on, the final grades of the second semester are published outside of the classroom: while Tatsumi is still at the top of the 3rd year, Karino doesn't seem to be in the list of the 2nd year, which means his grades dropped. Karino is called by the teacher, who tries to understand why his grades have fallen. Karino replies he hasn't been very well during this time but he'll work hard to make up for it.

After that, it's Azusa’s turn. The teacher asks him why he failed the test (as he didn't score any points) and at this rate he's in danger of flunking out. Azusa nonchalantly replies that he's not interested in graduating from college. The teacher: “Society is not a piece of cake as you think” and Azusa: “I'd rather die than become an empty person who depends on a title. I won't rely on anyone. I'll live only on my own." Azusa has no longer hope of relying on anyone, not even on something like a degree because he has completely withdrawn, he doesn't want anyone's help to move forward. The teacher tells him to choose at least one of the supplementary classes, for the sake of his parents.

Azusa leaves the room and sees Karino sitting outside. They look at each other for a second but then Azusa looks away.

Karino grabs him by the hair and asks “Are you ignoring me or what? Don't you understand unless I tell you?”. Azusa: “If you wanna do it so badly then go ask Eno!! After all, you're well-matched.”. Karino surprised “Hah? What's that dude got to do with it?". Azusa replies "If you get hit by maggots, you're gonna rot, you know. I'm saying that maggots always end up mating together……like at the cultural festival”. Karino doesn't understand and says “Are you still thinking about that cultural festival stuff? Something worthless". Azusa lowers his head. "I knew it. It's just a way to kill time for you. I shouldn't have believed in you from the start."

TW: rape

Karino gets pissed off and pushes him, making Azusa bang his head. Karino says not to blather at random because a feckless like him doesn't know anything. "Damn, stop it!!". Azusa slaps him and Karino says "I'll make you remember your place".

He brutally rapes him. Azusa thinks “It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!!!!". It's so painful that he's about to cry and he bites his lips.

He trembles and then collapses. Karino looks down on him.

Clenching his fist, Azusa replies: "I'll never forgive you. Just you". His expression is full of hatred. 💔 Karino leaves the room and throws a punch at the wall. "Oh, Karino?"...

It's Eno who asks what he was doing and in the meantime tucks the shirt inside Karino's pants. "Azusa-kun again?" and Karino replies "Why I was with him?". "That's right!! Your social caste is too different!”. Eno places his hands around Karino's neck and says: "I understand. A person who stands above others is alone. Nobody knows/understands it. If it were up to me, I would understand that loneliness."

The scene moves to Tatsumi and Komagome Kagura, the "Brain" of 3-5, Eno's class. Tatsumi and Komagome leave the Student Council classroom together. Tatsumi says that Komagome seems to be the only person in his class who hasn't a relationship, or something going on, with Eno. We discover that Kagura and Eno were in the same primary school. That's why Eno was upset by Kagura's behavior in chapter 29. He says Eno was an ordinary child at the time, but then they drifted apart. Tatsumi asks what happened and Kagura replies that Eno has changed over time. People change and are influenced by the environment, it's inevitable. But Tatsumi says he knows a guy who doesn't let himself be swayed, no matter what. (not really like that but I don't understand a kanji because it's blurry). Komagome: “Ohh? I want to meet him” and Tatsumi: “Shall I introduce him to you next time? But he's extremely cheeky”. The two of them stop at the sight of Eno. Komagome says "It's Eno, troublesome". Eno walks with his arm on Karino, saying "You with me, Kohei?". Tatsumi stares at them stunned.

Last scene of the chapter: Atsumu is walking in the hallway after the meeting with the teacher and notices Azusa crouching with his face down. Atsumu looks at the blood on his shirt, but when he tries to get close, Azusa yells at him “Don't fucking touch me!!! Don't you dare touch me at all, I'll kill you!!". 💔 💔 💔

Shortly after, Kuze reaches him. Atsumu hugs him and says “I am weak. Despite everything, I'm still tied to this caste. I'm not able to do anything even if a person I care about is hurt”. “I wish I was stronger”. "Atsumu..."

End of chapter. So sad and hearbreaking, even if it’s nothing that I didn't expect. (ಥ﹏ಥ) I would like to make a post about my impressions and my own analysis of it later! 🤯

#caste heaven #manga #yaoi #boys love #spoilers #summary #i'm sad #karino why you idiot #i can't stand azusa suffering anymore #please hold on baby

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bedlamsbard · 3 years

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Part two of the Caleb and Loth-wolf concept! I am tentatively planning for this to be a five things fic, but I am absolutely unwilling to commit to that at the moment. This follows part one; technically it’s backstory for The Starry Crown, but its relevance there isn’t in any of the posted chapters and it stands on its own.

About 4.7K below the break.

***

When Caleb had a question about anything, which was often, because he didn’t like not knowing things and he liked the satisfaction of having a proper explanation to fill empty spaces in his knowledge of the universe, his preferred method was to pester the crèche masters until he was satisfied by their responses. But this time he didn’t want to let Master Krell know about Rroshaal, since if Rroshaal had wanted Krell to know about him he would have stayed with Caleb instead of disappearing.

So instead, Caleb went to the library.

Caleb liked the library. It was quiet and while sometimes the Knights and older padawans working there looked askance at his presence, no one had ever kicked him out, though he had on occasion been steered away from some of the more restricted sections. Master Nu, upon once finding him struggling to fetch out a holodisk shelved out of his reach because he was intrigued by the symbols on the spine, had shown him how to use the computers to search the Temple databases. Caleb’s log-in was keyed to his DNA and he hadn’t yet figured out how to get around that, so his access was fairly restricted compared to what even an initiate or older youngling might have gotten, but it was better than not having it at all, and he could lose hours scrolling through seemingly endless amounts of information. Sometimes he didn’t even recognize the redactions where information that wasn’t appropriate for his level had been hidden.

He waited impatiently through his last few lessons for the day, which he normally liked but wasn’t in the mood for, then practically ran out of the classroom and towards the library. Caleb made his way through the mazelike corridors of the Jedi Temple with the ease of long practice. He could have done it blindfolded; younglings trained and played that way, placing their trust in the Force and their other senses so that they didn’t become overly reliant on their eyes. This time he didn’t bother.

It was late enough in the day that most of the diurnal species in the Temple – the majority of them – had gone to dinner, either to eat in their rooms or the crèche or one of the big public halls or the gardens. Caleb bounced excitedly into the library and looked around for a free computer. The few Jedi still there looked around at his entrance, indulgently amused at his arrival. Caleb waved at them cheerfully and went over to the nearest computer, raising the seat up until he could see the screen clearly. He poked at the keyboard with his index fingers, trying to think of what the best search terms for Rroshaal’s species were.

Half an hour later, he had found all sorts of canines and felines and other mammals which varied from adorable to terrifying, but nothing that matched his memory of Rroshaal. They varied on the sentience scale, and if Caleb hadn’t been so focused on finding Rroshaal’s species he might have dropped everything to go beg the crèche masters for a miniature hamerlok puppy, but as it was he filed that away to think about later.

Caleb ended up in the library often enough that he knew better than to waste time searching for something when he didn’t know the best way to do so or didn’t have the necessary access. He looked around for one of the librarians and saw Master Nu coming towards him; she had found him on one of his research spirals a dozen times before and knew his pattern. He waved at her and she smiled at him.

“What are you looking for, Caleb?” she asked, resting a hand on the back of his chair.

Trying to sound as grown-up as possible, Caleb turned towards her and said, “I’m trying to identify another species, but I haven’t been able to find him – them.”

“A sentient species?”

He nodded. “But not a humanoid.”

“Someone you saw here in the Temple?”

Caleb bit his lip. Technically he had seen Rroshaal in the Temple, but he didn’t want to admit to Master Nu that he had been in the underlevels, and that wasn’t what she meant anyway. She was asking if he was talking about another Jedi, or maybe one of the civilians who were in the Temple sometimes. “I had a vision?” he said tentatively. It was partially true, after all; Rroshaal had shown him his species through the Force, and that was sort of like a vision. And he had seen Rroshaal with his own eyes, which was technically vision even if it wasn’t a vision. “I read a holobook,” he added, almost immediately afterwards. He read lots of holobooks.

Master Nu looked amused, but didn’t comment on the two contradictory explanations. “Do you know what this other species of yours looks like?”

Caleb nodded firmly. “Big. Furry. Sort of like canines – maybe like lupines. I don’t understand the difference,” he admitted. He pointed at the screen, which was still open on the image of the miniature hamerlok, which was a domesticated subspecies of an Alderaanian predator. It looked a little like Rroshaal had, except much smaller and less fluffy, and the wrong color, though the entry said they came in lots of colors. “Like that. But not. And they can use the Force. And they live in grasslands.”

“Hmm,” Master Nu said. She thought for a moment, then leaned over his shoulder. “Has anyone shown you how to use species identification software?”

Caleb perked up. “That exists?”

“It’s often used by law enforcement, but many Jedi find it useful for other purposes as well,” Master Nu explained. “Most Jedi don’t have to use it until they’re padawans.”

Caleb bounced excitedly at this new information, moving his chair to the side so that she could bring up the program. She had to enter her own ID and log-in information, then adjust the access levels so that Caleb would be able to use it without having someone else log him in. He watched excitedly as she showed him how to cycle through different physical traits, slowly building an image on the screen of Rroshaal as Caleb remembered him. When he was finished, the program offered him a list of possible species that matched the criteria Caleb had inputted.

“Do any of these look right?” Master Nu asked. “From your holobook?”

Caleb shrugged. “No, Master. Can we look at all of them?” There were fewer than a dozen, ranked in order of most to least likely.

“That’s usually the best way to do it.”

Caleb carefully put his finger to the first option, which read TUK’ATA/SITH HOUND (MORABAND). As soon as the new window opened, he shook his head, but read the entry anyway, fascinated, then looked up at Master Nu. “They can’t really all be evil, can they? I mean, if you got a pup and raised it here in the Temple – or away from the Sith worlds, anyway –”

“I can’t recall whether anyone has ever attempted it, but looking up their history might be a good research project for you,” Master Nu said, bemused. “It does seem like the sort of thing someone would have tried, especially during the aftermath of the Sith Wars.”

“I want to try,” Caleb declared.

“That is the sort of experiment that will have to wait until you’re at least a padawan,” Master Nu told him firmly. “Since you would have to go to Moraband to find one – every attempt to traffic them offworld has failed. That’s something else you could look up another time.”

Caleb nodded and closed the window. He touched the next item in the list, LOTH-WOLF (LOTHAL), and as soon as it opened, said delightedly, “That’s him! But they’re not extinct?” he added, seeing the first line of the entry.

“Why do you think that?”

“I saw him. I talked to him.” Caleb remembered abruptly that he didn’t want to explain how he had done so and said quickly, “In my vision.”

Master Nu quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to tell me about your vision?” she asked. “Or perhaps talk to one of the masters who specializes in seeing?”

Caleb shook his head so rapidly that his learner’s braid hit him in the nose. “I have to figure it out on my own,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster when he was lying through his teeth. He copied the information carefully to his data storage account, then went back to get the tuk’ata information too while Master Nu went to find him some more books on Loth-wolves, after first making him promise that if he had another vision he would bring it to her or one of the other masters. Since if he ever actually did have a vision that was more than the flashes of precognition that gave Jedi their reflexes he was planning to tell everyone he knew, Caleb promised this solemnly.

Master Nu came back a few minutes later with a stack of holobooks for him – one a survey on Force-sensitive semi-sentient creatures and non-humanoids, one a travelogue from a Jedi Master who had mapped out many of the known Force-strong worlds, and one a history about Force-users who partnered with non-humanoids or semi-sentients. Caleb quietly thought that both “semi-sentient” and “non-humanoid” didn’t describe Rroshaal at all, but he wasn’t about to tell Master Nu that. Well, the non-humanoid part was true, but it didn’t really sum up what Rroshaal was.

He put the books carefully in his bag, noting that the history book was past his usual access level and wondering why, thanked Master Nu, and hurried off to the nearest dining hall. Dinner was still being served; even if he had missed it there was always food available somewhere in the Temple, though sometimes you had to do a bit more searching to find it. He wrapped a dozen meat pasties in a napkin along with two pieces of his favorite spice cake, then wrapped them in another napkin before putting them in his bag and making sure his water bottle was still mostly full. No one paid him any attention – he had found one of the dining halls that was mostly used by Knights and masters, a few of whom he knew, but everyone in the Temple was used to everyone else occasionally doing odd things. He waved at a Kiffar Knight who was one of his teachers in staff-fighting and left, grabbing a jogan fruit from a bowl as he did so.

He had to pause outside the hall and think about the best way to get down to the underlevels, since he wasn’t supposed to go there. After getting caught down there the previous day he probably really wasn’t supposed to go there, but it wasn’t like every youngling didn’t do it at one point or another. Like almost everything else in the Temple, there were lots of ways to get there, but Caleb thought that it was probably best if he chose one of the entrances closest to where Rroshaal had left him. He wanted Rroshaal to be able to find him again, but he didn’t want to get caught by Master Krell or any of the other crèche masters, either.

Decision made, he went trotting off. It took him longer to reach the underlevels than he had expected, since he was coming by a different route, but eventually he reached the bottom of the last staircase and hesitated, looking around. He had taken care to bring a glowstone with him this time so he wouldn’t get caught in the dark again, even if he couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt a little like cheating. What Caleb should have had was a lightsaber, but he wouldn’t have a lightsaber until after he had had his Gathering, and his cohort wouldn’t go on their Gathering for at least another two years, maybe even three or four.

“Rroshaal?” he called into the quiet, waiting dark of the underlevels. From here it just seemed like empty, unused space, but Caleb knew that it wasn’t. Further away – and further down – the underlevels deteriorated into a series of mazes, layers and layers of ancient temples built on top of each other. He’d read a book on it – well, he had run across it in a history, but when he went looking for more books he had found that they were beyond his access level, and Master Nu couldn’t be convinced to give them to him anyway. Caleb thought he might ask again, now that he had the excuse of having been caught down in the underlevels. He might as well use it for something. Maybe he could convince Master Krell and Master Nu that having to write a report on the history of the underlevels was an appropriate punishment.

“Rroshaal?” he called again. “It’s Caleb Dume. Rroshaal?”

There was no response. Caleb hesitated, wondering if he ought to go further in and away from the stairs. Maybe Rroshaal wouldn’t want to come this close to the entrance to the rest of the Temple, even though he had brought Caleb back yesterday.

He stood there for a few minutes, calling occasionally and hoping both that there weren’t security cams down here and that no one could hear him from the next level up.

There was no response.

Caleb stood there on the last step, feeling heat gather in his cheeks from embarrassment. He’d thought that Rroshaal had liked him. He was on the verge of going back to the crèche to palm off all the pasties on his crèche-mates when he thought suddenly, no. He had been acting like Rroshaal was a dumb animal, like the charhound pup one of the older initiates was fostering. Not that the charhound wasn’t very intelligent, but it wasn’t exactly a person, and Rroshaal was.

He reached with the Force, concentrating on his memory of Rroshaal’s strong sense of personality, and let his mind sink down into the vergence the Temple was built on. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to do that because vergences were dangerous – even Knights and masters weren’t supposed to do that – but Caleb thought that because he more or less knew what he was doing with it that he probably wouldn’t lose himself in the Force. He remembered what Rroshaal had told him yesterday, about the vergence where he lived and being able to move between that vergence and the one under the Temple. In a way, every vergence in the Force was one. They were unique – but at the same time they were also one.

Rroshaal? he thought, layering his memory of Rroshaal’s strong personality onto it. With rare exception, Jedi weren’t telepaths, but for their first few years in the crèche they didn’t have to speak to each other with words, either; they had the Force for that. Rroshaal, it’s Caleb Dume. He added his own mental signature to that, the emotional overtones in the Force that would tell another Force-user that it was him, Caleb Dume, and not someone else.

He could feel the weight of the Force as he opened himself to it. It was like the lake that he had seen on Alderaan when his cohort had visited the planet the previous year, the deep lake that was actually a rift in the planet’s surface and was more than ten kilometers deep. It pulled at him, at the surface of his mind; Caleb was aware of it – of it fluttering at the edges of his consciousness, bits and pieces of things that had happened in the past, that could have happened in the past, that were yet to come, of people who were long dead or were yet to be born or might never be born, of his people and the enemy of his people and all of those who touched the Force in their own way, whether they were Jedi or not.

He had never gone that deep into the Force before. He hadn’t meant to do so now.

He fought aside his instinctive panic, knowing that, like the lake, if he panicked he would drown. Caleb concentrated hard on his memory of Rroshaal, forcing himself to ignore the insistent whispers of almost-sound and the flickering almost-sight at the edges of his mind. Jedi were will. He wouldn’t let himself be swayed from his intention, now that he had set himself upon it.

Jedi were the Force. Whatever it was trying to show him, he already knew – he already was, or would be, or could be. All things were true at once in the Force.

Not trying to show him, he thought, a little dizzy. Do or do not. There is no try.

Caleb stopped fighting the almost-visions and let them pass through them instead, still keeping his mind on Rroshaal. He felt – bigger, somehow, older, as if his body no longer quite fit him in his dim awareness of his own physical form. But it wasn’t not his body, either; there was nothing unfamiliar about it. Caleb accepted that and let his call to Rroshaal roll out again, noting absently that there were layers in his mental signature that he had never been consciously aware of before. But they had always been there, of course.

He felt an instant of sleepy surprise, then acknowledgment.

They came from outside himself and were accompanied by a strong sense of place; Caleb tasted prairie winds and the rock-smell of an unfamiliar world, the warmth of lazing in a sun he had never stood under.

Certain that he had been heard, Caleb dragged himself uncertainly out of his trance. Reality fluttered around him; Caleb could feel it flexing, as if someone had shaken out a sheet and each fold held a different possibility, a different time, a different place. Then, before he had time to panic, it settled again, leaving him gasping in the dim light of the underlevels.

He sat down heavily on the steps.

After a moment he dug in his bag and came up with the jogan he had grabbed in the dining hall, which he ate slowly. One of the earliest things that younglings were taught was to eat or drink something after an intense meditation session, because it reminded them that while they might be the Force and full of light, they still had physical bodies. Caleb ate the jogan in small, neat bites, concentrating on its taste and how it felt in his mouth, and eventually got out of his datapad to read the database entry about Loth-wolves that he had gotten from the library computers. He had finished both and set the datapad aside so that he could wrap up the jogan pips to throw away later when he heard the soft click…click… of approaching claws on the marble floor.

He saw Rroshaal’s glowing eyes first, coming out of the darkness of the underlevels.

Caleb stood up to greet him, momentarily startled by how big Rroshaal was – he’d somehow forgotten. Rroshaal came up to him and ducked his head to nuzzle thoughtfully at Caleb’s hair, then licked Caleb’s face in a greeting.

“Hello!” Caleb said happily. “You came!”

Rroshaal licked his face again. He had been napping, he told Caleb; it was the middle of the day on his homeworld, and most of his people slept then. Caleb got the brief impression of windswept grasslands, too hot under the summer sun for Rroshaal to want to be out in.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he said. “It’s dinner time here. I’ve got dinner,” he added. “If you want?”

Rroshaal made an inquisitive sound and lay down as Caleb dug in his bag for the pasties. He laid most of them down on the cloth for Rroshaal to sniff at, but kept two for himself, watching Rroshaal eat each one in two bites. Interesting, was his observation when he was finished.

“It’s ronto, I think,” Caleb said; he was only halfway through his first one by the time Rroshaal had finished. “Do you have rontos on your world? They’re saurians, they live on desert worlds mostly, and a lot of ranchers breed them for meat.” He pictured the holos he had seen; he hadn’t seen one in person yet.

Rroshaal’s response was in the negative. Hoppers, he replied to Caleb, along with a strong sense of a big four-legged mammal that moved by leaping from its hindmost feet; it used its front legs more like arms and Rroshaal had a strong, vivid memory of being punched in the nose by one during his last hunt. The memory was accompanied by a strong, gamey taste of raw meat that made Caleb blink, a little startled. Lopers. This seemed to encompass several different kinds of hooved herbivores, some of which were nearly as big as Rroshaal and some of which were much smaller. They moved in herds and ran fast, leaping across the grasslands when the pack hunted them. Horrible birds. These were flightless birds two or three times as tall as Caleb, taller than Rroshaal, with toothed beaks and talon-like feet; Rroshaal showed him the scars another Loth-wolf had from being attacked by one some years earlier, but added that they were tasty after you brought them down. Others. He got a flickering sense of what his instructors would have called “a healthy ecosystem,” and recognized a few species he had seen in holos before. Or relatives, anyway, but you saw convergent evolution on many worlds, and colony worlds especially.

Rroshaal sensed the thought and made a little whuff in the negative. Too much prey, he told Caleb. Horrible birds kill some, but only on one continent. Used to be more hunters. Caleb got a hazy impression of several kinds of big felines and avians; the haziness was because they were extinct and Rroshaal had never seen them himself, only through the passed-down memories of other members of his pack.

“Colonists killed them?” Caleb asked, remembering one of his classes. It happened a lot.

Rroshaal made an affirmative sound. Others, he said again, showing Caleb several animals he recognized.

“Those are nerfs,” Caleb said. “They’re all over the galaxy. People breed them for meat and fur. And the little saurians are nunas. They’re meat animals too. I can’t remember what the fluffy ones are, but I’ve seen holos of them before.”

Tasty, Rroshaal observed, licking his lips. Then he laid his chin down on his paws and added sadly, Not enough pups.

That reminded Caleb. “I read about you!” he said. “I looked you up in the library. You’re a Loth-wolf.”

Rroshaal flicked an ear, bemused by the name. The People, he said instead.

“I know, but most species call themselves something like that. I’m a human.”

Rroshaal raised his head and snuffled thoughtfully at Caleb’s knees for a moment before saying doubtfully, You’re People. You feel like People, even if you don’t smell like People.

Caleb put his hands out for Rroshaal to sniff, then lick clean of lingering crumbs. “I’m a Force-user – a Jedi. Maybe that’s it.”

Rroshaal whuffed again, dubious.

“You’re supposed to be extinct,” Caleb said, then hesitated, unsure if he had hurt Rroshaal’s feelings. Instead he just felt the Loth-wolf’s resigned weariness.

Not enough pups, he said again. It took Caleb a few moments to sort through the flurry of information that accompanied the words; Rroshaal had been the only pup in his pack to live more than a year in the last decade. Pups had been born dead or had gotten sick and died soon afterwards. He had heard that other packs were just as badly off.

Caleb said shyly, “We – the Jedi – are having problems too. I heard the crèche masters talking about it with Master Windu and Master Yoda once. There used to be thousands more Jedi than there are now – there are whole sections of the Temple that are shut up – and the cohorts keep getting smaller and smaller. Even two hundred years ago you’d have cohorts of dozens, but mine is only three people, and the ones after me are the same. About twenty or thirty years ago all of a sudden the Temple started getting large cohorts again – large by current standards – and that lasted for about twenty years before they suddenly started dropping off in size. The senior padawans now are from the last few large cohorts. The masters don’t know if not as many Force-sensitive younglings are being born or if they’re just not being found.”

Rroshaal made an inquisitive noise.

“I don’t know all of it,” Caleb admitted. “When babies are born in Republic medcenters, they’re required to have a lot of tests run, and one of those is for midichlorian count. That gets passed onto the Order if the parents consent, and if it’s high enough then someone – usually the Sector Watchman – will check on them regularly. Just because you have a high midichlorian count doesn’t mean you can be a Jedi, though, so the Watchmen have to keep checking, and of course if the families refuse then they won’t. Outside the medcenters it’s mostly just the will of the Force.” He stared longingly at Rroshaal’s soft-looking ears, wondering how rude it would be to ask Rroshaal if he could pet them. “I was born in the Temple.”

Rroshaal’s ears flicked forward, interested.

“It’s not usual,” Caleb admitted. “It happens once or twice a generation, but usually even if one or both parents is a Jedi then the baby won’t be strong enough to be one too. I was. That’s not rare, but it’s not common, either.” He shrugged in response to Rroshaal’s question. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter who they are. If I hadn’t been strong enough in the Force to be a Jedi I would have gone to one of their birth-families if they wanted.” He hesitated, then admitted, “I heard once that one of them is an old military family on Coruscant, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. And it doesn’t matter anyway since I’m a Jedi.”

People, Rroshaal insisted.

Caleb spread his hands for Rroshaal to see. “Not People, not like yours,” he said. Then he got the cake out of his bag and offered one piece to Rroshaal, who sniffed it with interest, then sneezed. “It’s spice cake,” he explained. “It’s my favorite.”

Rroshaal ate it out of his palm in several delicate bites, then lay licking his teeth thoughtfully as Caleb ate his own piece of spice cake. Good, he decided finally, then gave Caleb a grin, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Different.

He licked Caleb’s hands clean when Caleb held them out again, then flicked one ear back as if he had heard someone calling him. I have to go, he said regretfully. My mother wants me.

Caleb had the brief impression of a bigger version of Rroshaal, brown and with a scarred ear, whom Rroshaal regarded with occasionally frustrated adoration. He said wistfully, “Can I see you tomorrow?”

We’ll be away, Rroshaal said, and Caleb could tell that he genuinely regretted it. Embassy to another pack. He thought, then said, Nine days?

“How long are your days?” Caleb asked, then realized that Rroshaal probably didn’t count time in hours. “I’ll look it up.” He hesitated, then added, “Can I hug you?”

At the affirmative response, they both stood up, and Caleb carefully put his arms around as much of Rroshaal’s furry front as he could manage. He was just as soft as Caleb remembered from the previous day and smelled of clean fur and unknown winds, a little musky. Rroshaal tucked his muzzle down against Caleb’s back, then licked his face after Caleb released him. Caleb curved the backs of his knuckles against Rroshaal’s cheek, carefully stroking the short fur there, then giggled as Rroshaal rubbed his cheek against Caleb’s smooth one.

Soon, he promised, then, Bring more of the cake-thing.

“I will,” Caleb said.

Rroshaal licked his nose, then backed away. Caleb must have blinked, because one moment Rroshaal was there, then the next he had vanished into the shadows of the underlevels.

Caleb sighed regretfully and rubbed the back of his hand over his nose, the scooped up the discarded cloths and stuffed them into his bag. He had a lot of reading he wanted to do before he saw Rroshaal again.

#cut scenes and concept writing #caleb and the loth wolf tag #comics caleb is a tiny nerd #as always comments are appreciated #eta: yes I DO have a partially written concept for caleb's extended birth family; the forbidden backstory

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beckmessering · 2 years

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This may be unoriginal, but pls rank Wagner operas? <3

rankings killllll me bc i'm an indecisive btch but let the fun begin! in order of least to most loved :)

- der fliegende holländer. i do not vibe with it. the story is fine but every time i heard it, the music felt too loud (ironic considering some of the later choices on this list). there are two (2) parts i like and that'll be it for me, sir.

- lohengrin. this is NOT a statement about the quality of lohengrin and rather a statement about my lack of exposure. what i remember was beautiful, i just don't feel i know it enough or listen to it enough to justify giving it a higher rating. but there's a HUGE gap between holländer and lohengrin, so lohengrin is appreciated <3

- tristan und isolde. same as with lohengrin. i only recently reintroduced myself to it after a slightly disastrous first exposure where i didn't understand anything at all, and now i'd love to see more of it but don't feel i've grasped everything about it yet. i want to, though.

- götterdämmerung. i find it gets progressively more fun - the first act is longggggg and drags just *slightly* but things get spicy in the second and third act, where all my favourite musical bits are. also v fun to watch chaos unfold.

- tannhäuser. aka sex, sin, and singing in medieval germany. it was my first wagner opera and not the one i listen to the absolute most right now but i'm very fond of it, especially in productions that go a bit wild (looking at u, bayreuth)

[ entering the territory of Stuff I Have Most Hot Takes About ]

- siegfried. pretty much on par with tannhäuser. the title character annoys me very much and i'm not one for one-act-long love duets (also ironic considering upcoming choices). BUT musically it's very fun and the side characters are smashing (hi, mime) and a well-acted siegfried makes it very enjoyable for me. and the hot takes begin, ofc.

- die meistersinger von nürnberg. this one is a part-time tenant in my head that drops by rather often. i'm very picky about productions here and it's not a good opera for switching off your brain to (stay awake while richard tries to indoctrinate you about GeRmAn ArT, guys) but when i fall in love with a production, i fall HARD. i named my blog after beckmesser, the antagonist of meistersinger, and i shall carry this mantle for ages to come. honestly, come for the baritones.

- das rheingold. is this a comedy? not really. but considering that meistersinger isn't funny once you account for the antisemitism, rheingold is a proper comedy. the decisions made are HILARIOUS when you come to think of it and it's such a weird breakneck adventure. once again, smashing side characters (hellooo, loge), and i personally think it's the most finger-snapping wagner opera. sure, it sets up serious things, but in the right mood it's just unabashedly fun.

- die walküre. walküre kicked lots of other operas in the shins and got this spot. i'll spare you the story of how i started to like it, but i am very in love with it. the irony is that it a) can get very loud in parts and b) consists of at least 30% love duets (and a love story you shouldn't mention in public), which i adore. it's the perfect mix of excellent characters and fucked up decisions and it now lives rent-free in my head 24/7. bonus points for being the second opera that makes me cry on the regular.

- parsifal. the first opera to make me cry on the regular. i'm not that choosy at which part. i genuinely like some themes it explores, unusual as they are, and characters go without saying. it feels like comfort - parsifal in the darkness of my room is tells me everything is okay right now. at the same time, it feels a bit other to me, likely because i've never found anything like it, and it's like briefly seeing the world through a veil. it's like my feet haven't touched the ground after parsifal ends, and i don't want them to.

#thanks for the ask!#ranking things WAS fun #gtg for now because my flight is boarding #but i will be back #revedebeatrice

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spectralscathath · 3 years

Text

Like-Minded Souls, Indeed?

Because this was exactly what Mercury needed, the voice of someone his boss killed showing up in his head and telling him to save the world. No thank you. Not unless you paid him.

Meanwhile, on Ozpin's side of things, he would like to very much not be found out by Salem. That would be... unfortunate.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1: In Which Neither Mercury Nor Ozpin Can Ever Catch A Break

Ozpin felt the tugs of Ozma's magic at the corners of his mind, the limbo of their incarnations finally broken as a like-minded soul was bonded with.

He awoke in the back of someone's mind, still bleary as though he was physically waking up from a deep sleep. The mindscape was quiet with a forced calm, tension like pulled strings threading through the soul of this new individual and ready to snap at the slightest touch.

He looked out a set of new eyes, to see if it was a good time to introduce himself, and felt ancient fear flood through him at the sight of Ozma's oldest and most terrible foe. Oh. Oh no. This was very bad. This was quite possibly the worst place he could incarnate.

Salem herself, smiling at the girl who had killed him under Beacon. To die in fire was not an experience the countless souls wanted to repeat, and Ozpin was unfortunate enough to join the ranks of the few predecessors who’d suffered such a painful death.

He chose to say nothing, instead observing the way silver strands of hair fell over the side of his vision, how the body ached with phantom pains that were not Ozpin's, and wisely retreated back into the mind.

Perhaps another time.

Perhaps when Mr Mercury Black was not currently surrounded by danger.

After all, they both had to make the best of things now. He could only hope that Mr Black would be the type who could be persuaded away from Salem.

If not, then this was going to be... difficult.

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Ozpin had been a father, so many lifetimes before. He had never been perfect, he had made countless mistakes across Ozma's many lifetimes, he accepted them all as his failures, so he could learn from them and do better in the next life.

He had given his second life in a futile attempt to save his daughters, and sometimes wondered if he regretted his choices. Should he have stayed? If he had stayed, would he still be alive? Would his children still be alive?

The look Marcus Black wore in so many of Mercury's memories reminded him too much of Salem to ever again regret his attempt to escape her clutches.

He had been waiting a long time, studying Mercury’s routine so he could find the safest time to breach the gap between them. He had to say, this was an opportunity like no other, to see what Salem’s plans were without detection, but with great reward came terrible risk. All it would take was one slip, and they’d both be dead. Or worse. And if he did nothing, then all the knowledge he could gain would be for naught.

So he waited until they were alone before he could chance speaking to him, until Mercury had retreated to his corners and locked the door, shoving a chair under the handle as was his custom. He was paranoid, which was a very fair response to the situation. The massive wardrobe must have taken some shoving to put it in the path of the window, but it certainly did prevent any unwelcome visitors who might see it as a means of entry.

The bed pushed into the corner was wise as well, to put his back to a wall, although the fact that Mercury piled his pillows under the covers as a decoy and then slept under the bed itself might have been pushing it somewhat.

He waited until Mercury was sitting on the bed, looking over his weapons and performing any upkeep needed, the faint cyan glow from the vents in his prosthetics lining his silver fringe.

Mr Black, don’t be alarmed.

“What the FUCK?!” Mercury bolted upright, knife in hand as he looked around, head swinging to every potential place an intruder could be. “Who’s there?!”

Professor Ozpin. He had to think quickly. Don’t tell Salem or she will kill you. This is part of my curse as her opponent, I must incarnate into a new mind with every death, and I am now currently in yours.

“No the fuck you are not.” Mercury snarled. “Show yourself, come out and face me.”

I can’t, actually. He should try and enter Mercury’s dream. He personally had never done that, but Ozma had, so therefore he had as well… hadn’t he? It seemed the lines were blurring between himself and Ozma already. More than they had been when he was alive. He’d been one of the more compatible hosts, on account of not having anything that really needed Ozpin Headley more than it needed Ozma-in-Ozpin’s-head.

“Nope. Okay. I’ve gone mad. I’ve been up too long.”

That is true. Mercury had a terrible case of insomnia, it seemed. Though with the night terrors he had, it was understandable. He was about to have a whole lot more, once the merge hit the point where Ozpin was able to fade into the memory consciousness, just as Ozana had when she had joined the other incarnations in the depths of their shared subconscious.

He was hoping he could spare the young man the nightmares from hundreds of deaths. Ten thousand years was a long time to live and die and live again. Mr Black, I assure you, this is not an ideal situation for me either, but you must understand that you are not crazy and that I am now-

“Taking up residence in my head like a fucking pervert? What, running a school wasn’t enough for you to get your sick kicks?” Mercury snarled at him.

Okay, that was uncalled for. Mr Black, that is very untrue. This is just something that happens . After all, someone had to stop Salem.

“Fuckin- alright, fine, so I’ve gone mad. What else is new?” Mercury grumbled, sitting back down and angrily sharpening a knife.

You’re very sane, I assure you. Ozana had told him something similar, if a bit less polite.

“Right, I’m talking to a voice in my head while living in a castle owned by some sort of humanoid Grimm witch, that’s the definition of sanity.” Mercury snarked at him.

If you can believe Salem’s existence, then surely you can believe mine?

“I don’t believe anything you say. Can you go back to shutting up?” Mercury’s anger was a tangible force in their head, not like a wildfire, but more like a poison, something that slowly corroded whatever it touched. It was a very cold anger.

I’m afraid not. I must insist that you leave this place before Salem finds out of my presence, or she WILL kill you then and there. Or worse. There could be so much worse. Salem had been around far longer than he had, by sheer virtue of her immortality working differently. It had left her with a large pool of creative methodology for causing pain, many of which had been lost to time.

He didn’t want to undergo that as much as Mercury likely wouldn’t want to either, so that meant leaving was their best choice. He’d been listening in on a few of the meetings that Salem had hosted, finding out that Haven was the next target, and Vacuo after that. He’d also found that she hadn’t yet obtained the Crown of Choice, but that she did still have at least one operative in Vale looking. He wished them luck. He personally had decided to move the Beacon Vault and hide it a little better after he took over the school.

There was no way Salem’s people could find it. Not without his knowledge. Or Jinn’s knowledge.

He had to keep Jinn out of Salem’s reach. If summoned, she wouldn’t choose not to answer Salem’s question. She didn’t have that sense of morality. To the Relics, all that mattered was their task, and the rules that bound them to it.

So, Mercury, when do we leave?

“You’re stupid.” Mercury told him bluntly. “We’re on another continent with no way off that isn’t controlled by Salem. There is no leaving. At least not until she sends me out on a job. So here’s the deal, you shut the fuck up, and then maybe when I’m out of this creepy fucking castle, we can talk.” Ozpin could hear the lie in there. Mercury had zero intentions of ever talking to him again.

But it was a good idea, for safety’s sake. He would have to be a silent observer. After all, the walls could have ears.

Besides, once they were out on a job, so to speak, he could simply start talking again. After all, that was the letter of the potential agreement, if not Mercury’s intention.

Agreed. I will see you when we are in the clear.

“Piss off.” Mercury grumped at him, and just this once, Ozpin chose to comply. He could use the time to gather information, and silence was a small price to pay for that.

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Mercury followed Emerald, Watts, and Cinder into the safehouse Lionheart had brought for them, feeling a strange sense of betrayal flood him that was definitely not his. He realised it was probably Ozpin, who had so far remained quiet during the flight out of Evernight, meeting up with Watts, and going over battleplans for confronting Raven Branwen.

He’d been tuned in just to see what his role was (he was Thug #2, the muscle who was meant to stand there and possibly kill someone if that kind of point had to be made), and was allowed to be basically invisible beyond that. He watched as Cinder went to cook herself dinner, and since she knew she controlled Emerald through food and shelter, probably Emerald as well. Mercury could cook for himself, if he had to, and Watts could starve for all they cared.

He wasn’t hungry anyway. Too busy trying to hold off on the wrenching nausea in his gut that was not his. “See ya, Em.” He shrugged at her, holding up his scroll. “I’m gonna play some Amid You. See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya, Merc.” She waved him off. She’d gotten a bit more tolerable since they got trapped together in the deathworld that was Salem’s castle. Not that they were friendly or anything. Just tolerable.

He made his way up the stairs and into one of the rooms, making sure it wasn’t the fanciest one because he’d let Cinder and Watts duke out ownership of that one. He locked the door, looking for something he could shove against it and picking the bedside table. It’d do.

He checked the window lock and pulled the curtains over, sitting on the bed as he played music on his scroll to mask the fact that he could be talking to himself, if only to tell Ozpin to shut the fuck up with the sadness.

“Alright asshole, what’s the problem.”

I can’t believe Leo would fall this far. Ozpin sounded fucking miserable. Sucks for him, he got betrayed. What happened to him? He was a hero for so long…

“People suck, get over it.” Seriously, if he’d been around since the asscrack of time, then he should know that.

Not always. Some people are good. It makes it hurt all the more when some of them turn out to… well. Stick a knife in your back . Ozpin sighed, impressive for a man who didn’t have a body or lungs. So. Now we can discuss you leaving this group and helping protect the Relic of Knowledge.

“Yeah, no, not happening. If there’s a mole on the inside of your old team, then me buggering off from Cinder is only gonna end up with us dead, which is that thing you didn’t want, right? After all, Leo runs Haven, and those kids Watts mentioned? First years and a drunken Huntsman. Haven’s dead meat.”

We have to try. Salem cannot be allowed to obtain any of the Relics.

“Nah. We have to survive. I’m not dying just because you wanna be a hero.” Mercury kicked his boots and greaves off, since he was out of Evernight, twirling his ankle a bit and listening to the metallic clicking the joint made.

Mr Black, I must insist. If the Vault in Haven is opened, it could go very badly. Besides, Qrow is my friend. I’d rather not risk him being hurt.

“Hey, the plan involves not going near Qrow. It’s a simple sneak in, sneak out, and the White Fang blow up the school a few days later. No one’s getting hurt, except for Lionheart. Clock’s ticking on his usefulness.” The plan was easy compared to Cinder’s weird domino pieces plan for taking down Beacon. He preferred the Haven plan that was clearly Salem and Watts’s idea. It was simple, no muss, no fuss. Easy pickings.

Gonna be great to see how Cinder’s rampaging ego ruined it, something easy like this clearly wouldn’t fuel her proud streak. She was just like Marcus. Always wanted a challenge. That was why he saved cutting off a target’s semblance for a finishing blow in his assassinations.

Haven Academy is important, Mercury, you can’t just let it be blown up! I won’t stand by while Salem steals the Relic and destroys another Academy! I can’t!

“All the Huntsman in Mistral are either dead or useless, gramps.” Mercury rolled his eyes. “Academy’s already useless. You should focus on the relic.” Maybe if he came up with another plan it’d get Ozpin off his back.

I don’t play to win at all costs, Mr Black. I try to protect as many pieces on the board as I can.

“That’s why you’re losing,” Mercury collapsed back on the bed, hooking his hands behind his head as he got comfortable. “How about another deal? We wait for Cinder to get the Relic. Watts has to go back to Evernight after dealing with Branwen, so the trip back will be me, her, and Emerald. Cinder won’t be expecting an attack, so how about we kill her, steal the ship, and then you can take the Relic wherever you want?”

And Emerald? Ozpin queried. Would you be killing her in this sneak attack as well?

That made him pause for a moment. Would he kill Emerald? Probably not, he didn’t need to. Cinder was absolutely a threat who had to be taken out as quickly as possible, but Emerald? Nah. “She’d probably get all butthurt that Cinder’s dead or whatever, but I don’t see why she should die as well. Worse comes to worst we’ll knock her out. We’d be doing her a favour, honestly. You’ve seen how Cinder treats her.” The fact that Ozpin was constantly watching everything was real fucking unnerving and something he tried to not think about at all times.

Hmmmm… Ozpin deliberated for ages, which made Mercury think he was probably scheming away. Whatever. Mercury wasn’t going to fall for any of it. What could a voice in his head do? Get sad at him? You think you can kill Cinder?

“I think that I’ve been watching how she fights for nearly two years now and that she’s got a massive blind spot on her left side.” It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be manageable. Amber got taken out too, after all. “You got anything that would help? Cinder said you put up a fight in that basement where she killed you.” He hoped that was uncomfortable to talk about. If he had to be disquieted by sharing headspace with a weirdo, so should Ozpin.

Yes. I have some magical ability left that can, at the very least, level the playing field a little bit. It’s not as strong as the Maiden’s magic, but if applied correctly, it could work.

Sounded like Ol’ Oz was coming around to ‘fuck everyone else, I got what I want in the end’. Selfish thinking won again. Why waste energy on stopping the destruction of a school when Cinder could be allowed to think she won and Mercury could then use that pride against her to escape this whole messed-up situation.

After all, Salem might be remaking the world and had offered to make him one of the top dogs, but in the pecking order, he was still near the bottom of the ladder. Besides, he did have her worst enemy in his head.

Escape was definitely the best option. “And hey, if she’s planning on attacking Vacuo after, think your buddy in Atlas would let us bunker down there?” If they did it right, then no one would know what happened. Cinder would be too dead to talk, Emerald would be a flight risk but he could probably talk her into not going back to work for Salem, and he sure wouldn’t tell anyone.

Yes. James can be trusted.

Just like Lionheart could, Mercury thought, but this one he kept to himself. “So. Deal?”

I don’t like this. It’s cruel and callous.

“I’m Mercury Black, have we met?” Why would he want to be anything else? The world was cruel. The only way to win was to take what you had and fight for what you wanted. No rules. No lines. Those made people weak.

… Very well. I’ll agree, for now.

“Then we’re done for tonight.”

I suppose we are. Thank you for hearing me out.

Mercury blinked perturbedly. Did he just get thanked? Weird. “Uh- sure. Whatever.”

Ozpin sounded way too amused as he chuckled, Mercury’s hackles rising only slightly. Good night, Mr Black.

Mercury snorted and didn’t bother replying, reaching for his scroll as he switched his music off and went into the games folder. Yeah it was gonna be a good night. He was gonna play video games til his eyes fell out and not sleep.

He supposed this situation with Ozpin could have been worse. At least the guy kept to himself and didn’t make a nuisance. If Mercury had to have a creepy man in his head talking to him, it could have been a lot worse. Could have had a Tyrian in there. Or a Watts.

Or his dad.

Mercury’s nose scrunched. Wouldn’t that be awful. Least Ozpin knew which of them was in control.

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It was chaos in Haven Academy’s foyer. Mercury dodged a wild swing from Yang, flipping back in a handspring as he errantly observed the room. Ozpin had not been happy about the ‘kill everyone’ plan but whatever, they were here now. Ozpin had been a lot louder since then and was still there, still currently losing his mind in the back of Mercury’s head. Mercury tried to tune most of it out. Wasn’t easy.

Mercury, please! This can’t be what you want! Ozpin begged as Mercury watched that kid in the green get thrown through a wall by Hazel. Ozpin always went real quiet around him. He wondered why. They’re just children!

He didn’t answer back, because fuck it, what did he know? Being a kid didn’t mean shit. Where was ‘just children’ when Marcus beat him up daily? Nowhere, that’s where.

You have to stop this! You’ll never be able to get the Relic now, the plan won’t work! This is our only chance!

He dodged another gunshot from Yang, which was criminally easy, she definitely had not gotten faster since their last fight, and checked in on the only threat. Qrow was- oh fuck he had stopped fighting Raven, disengaging from that little sibling duel to charge Hazel, landing a blow to the guy’s back with enough force that Hazel’s knee hit the ground. Mercury swore it dented from the weight behind that blow.

No no no no no no-

He whistled as he caught Yang’s kick in one of his own, forcing her leg down and scoring a punch directly to the floating ribs. Her eyes went red for a moment as she swung a hook at him, one that he dodged again, knocking her around with a few more kicks to the head. Had she gotten sloppier? He would be ashamed to fight this badly.

Mercury. Please. Don’t make me do this.

He glanced over at where Qrow was nimbly dodging Hazel’s blows before a cheap shot from Lionheart hit him in the shoulder, knocking his footwork off-balance long enough that Hazel got his hands on Qrow.

Mercury I’m so sorry-

“What-” Mercury asked before his vision flashed gold, and he was shunted into the back of his own head. Suddenly he was the voice, and Ozpin was in control- he had no control over his own body, no way to stop as Ozpin took a running leap, leaving a confused Yang behind, and landed a kick into the side of Hazel’s head, the shotgun blasting right in his ear.

Ozpin had took over. Ozpin… could take over. And he’d never mentioned it. He’d never-

Qrow looked at them, utterly dumbfounded. The entire room had gone dead quiet as Ozpin-in-Mercury’s-body artfully landed between Qrow and Hazel, not taking his eyes off the latter. Then he spoke with Mercury’s voice but it wasn’t Mercury’s words and it wasn’t right-

“I’d like my cane back, if you wouldn’t mind, Qrow.”

Cinder was staring. Emerald was staring. Everyone was staring as Mercury was turned into a fucking puppet, all his control stolen away. He hadn’t even known Ozpin could- He’d thought-

His view of their- their, not his- vision tunnelled, greying out at the edges. Haven wasn’t there anymore. It was just that house. His room. The smell of whiskey and blood and cigarette burns-

And Mercury clocked out, brain going black with panic.

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He felt hands on his shoulders even though there were no hands on his shoulders, pulling him out of the darkness and shoving him back in the driver’s seat. He blinked, collapsed against a wall with a cane handle in his hand and Qrow leaning over him, the smell of alcohol on the other man’s breath hitting some button in his head too close too close-

“Get AWAY from me!” He shrieked, kicking him full in the chest and loosing a shotgun blast to make sure the point got across, the Relic clattering on the ground as Qrow lost his grip on it. His hand clenched on the cane handle so hard it was shaking, and he threw that away as hard as he could.

Mercury, I am so sorry, I swear, I didn’t want to ever have to do that to you, but you left me no choice-

“ Shut up!” He snapped, voice ragged and a little too raw as he pulled his knees defensively to his chest and dug his fists into silver hair, tugging until the burn on his scalp felt like he was pulling Ozpin’s voice out of his head.

He heard footsteps come closer and looked up from his defensive curl, a knife appearing in his hand as he met Lil Red’s silver eyes, wide with concern and simmering with underlying resentment. “Professor Ozpin?”

Mercury, you have to understand, we can’t let Salem get the Relic-

He remembered a similar look on her face when she saw him walking again in the maintenance hall of Amity Colosseum. He snarled back this time, instead of a cocky smirk. “No. Come near me and I’ll rip your fucking face off.”

“Don’t talk to my sister like that!” Yang snapped, her eyes bright red as she glared at him, the Schnee keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her in line. Fucking try it, Blondie, he’d take her other arm off, they could match.

Ruby wisely took a step back, still easily too close for him to handle. “Mercury?” her hand twitched towards the gun on her back

Mercury? Will you let me explain?

“All of you shut up.” He glared at the Relic, kicking it away as he jumped to his feet. He couldn’t handle this. It was too much, too much control lost- and Emerald wasn’t there, FUCK. So much for doing her a favour. He looked at everyone, feeling cornered, skin alive with fire ants that weren’t really there and legs burning with phantom aches, and did the only thing he could do when fighting wasn’t the option.

He bolted, clearing the stairs behind him and disappearing into Haven Academy, picking a random room that wasn’t Lionhearts (he was not going NEAR a fucking Seer, no thank you) and locking the door.

Mercury, I truly am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Ozpin told him gently, and the worst thing was that he sounded like he meant it.

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” Mercury snarled, and started breaking everything in the room that he could get his hands on.

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Man, Ozpin's sections got deeper then I expected but then again the guy has identity issues for sure. Where does Ozma end and Ozpin begin? Things we will literally never know!

#rwby #mercury black #ozpin #Oz!Merc AU #rwby fanfiction #my writings

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