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#little story blurb
cuteiemonster · 9 months
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my SECOND piece for the @mcytblraufest !!
this time, for @theminecraftbee 's fic, [ SOLVING COUNTING SHEEP ] !! i had so much fun trying to settle on what scene to draw that i ended up with uh. Major Spoilers. dont worry about it! youll know it when you see it.
was genuinely an honor to work on this with Second, @seawaveleo, and @strifetxt !! o7
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fear-is-truth · 5 months
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ⵌ — VIOLENT DELIGHTS
Kai Anderson x reader || NSFW
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Kai let out a short bark of laughter.
"Let's get this straight," he snickered, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "You want me to wear my mask?"
You nodded, your cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as you avoided his gaze. Kai let out a soft click of his tongue, shaking his head in mock disapproval. Then, like a switch flipping, his tone shifted from humorous to icy detachment.
"Cat got your fucking tongue?" he spat, fingers tightening their grip on your jaw, forcing you to meet his stare.
“Use your words, lamb.”
“I want.. I want you to wear your mask when you fuck me,” you choke out. At this, Kai’s lips curled into a wicked smirk.
He just had the best idea.
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selkiecoded · 2 months
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wait i just remembered i DO have unposted orv stuff that i can post for kim dokjas birthday. 2k of hot supreme king x reader fic dont like dont read!!!1!! orginal characarter do not steal!!!!!
(or, Yoo Joonghyuk takes a pit-stop in one of the world-lines. An old friend offers to pay for dinner.)
[Ah, late, so late! I can't believe I missed my alarm! And on my first day of work too... I was so worried, when I got off the train, I started running the rest of the way to the company. Hopefully nobody would notice that I was late. I had to get a new job after my boyfriend dumped me, and I couldn't afford to live on my previous salary.
As I rushed to the building, I had to push past many people to get to the doors. In my haste, however, I accidentally tripped! When I fell, I landed against something hard. "Oof!"
"Hey," a menacing voice said. "Watch where you're going next time! Don't be so quick to touch me!" Eep!
I stepped back quickly, bowing as deep as I could. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean t..." When I looked up I trailed off, becoming even more panicked. Ah, I recognized that man!
He looked down at me with a handsomely striking gaze. "You. What is your name?"
"I-It's L/N Y/N. Um, again, I'm so sorry... CEO-nim!" I bowed again. A nose and a chin shaped in perfect angles; a pair of deep eyes seemingly carved out of beautiful jewels; soft hair styled fashionably to frame his face... His suit, too, looked quite beautiful. I really messed up this time. Not only was I late, but I ran into the CEO of the company, the powerful Yoo Jo--]
I stopped there. I didn't bother to learn the name of the poor idol whose name had been stolen for this. Why was I even reading this? Reader-inserts were meant for wish fulfillment, but they always did something that took you out of the story. For the first part, I'd pay much more attention to my surroundings than that.
I pocketed my phone again, sighing. Perhaps I was the cynical one here? They were probably just written by young girls, daydreaming about getting to talk to a beloved character or idol, and was that so horrible? Actually, I believed in chance meetings, but I felt like the one here was a little too contrived...
Many thoughts went through my head as I stepped through a convenience store. Buying dinner after work was the only good thing about my job, I should just quit. Perhaps that would get me closer to the path of meeting a handsome CEO? How laughable.
I was still thinking this when I moved forwards again. But this time, when I walked, I ran directly into a hard wall.
No, wait? I had been to this store many times, and there wasn't anything blocking the entryway the other times. I stepped back, confused, to find my 'wall' staring back at me. Ah... Perhaps I should've read that story until the end.
The man in front of me had a good face. He certainly looked like he could be the menacing protagonist. But, how do I put this? Everything below the neck ruined the effect. 
He was wearing an astronaut's spacesuit, even with the helmet tucked in his arms, but he wore a black trenchcoat over that, making his form extra bulky. At the same time, strange rips were visible against it. Not a romance protagonist, then. Sci-fi? But the coat screamed chuunibyou characterization...
"Ah, sorry, I wasn't watching, excuse me..."
The man was still staring at me, and if anything his expression grew more annoyed. What did he want me to say? Should I chastise him for standing in the middle of the walkway?
Before I said anything, or even managed to go around him, a young girl peeked out from behind his back. She was dressed more normally, in casual clothes with a fuzzy jacket, but still stood out just by being around him. When she saw me, her first reaction was curiosity, but after a moment, her eyes widened in surprise and an unprecedented amount of delight.
"Oh, it's okay! I promise his bark is worse than his bite. Hey, you're from around here, yes? Do you have some money we can borrow?"
Huh?
The man turned to glare at the shameless girl instead. "We don't need money. Especially not from… them."
"Yes, yes. You're a big scary terrorist, you steal what you can't buy. Isn't that too much though? You're already beating poor authors senseless, how much crime do you need to commit before your dark heart is satisfied?"
I quickly turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction.
"Hey, hey!" The girl's voice called out again, and I could hear her running to follow me. With a sigh, I paused and looked back at her. I didn't want someone like her friend chasing me, so it would be better to just hear her out.
"Ah, I'm sorry, you must think we're acting quite weird! But, really, we don't have any money. If you can, could you spare just a couple of dollars?"
"Mm, I don't know. If you're that desperate isn't it better to be more polite in asking? What happened, did you lose it all on a scam?" No, wait, what was I saying? I didn't want to deal with these guys longer than I had to. Just talking to them would make me stick out very badly.
Still, for some strange reason, I couldn't stop myself from taking on a familiar tone.
Her friend gave her a mean look, which she ignored, before glancing at me. After a second, he said, "We were mugged."
I blinked at him. "I see..." He gave a pained nod as if to really emphasize his plight, while the girl just smiled. When she noticed my gaze on her, her expression switched to that of grim sincerity.
I had to take a moment to step back and mentally collect myself. First off, how stupid did they think I was? Not only was their acting terrible, but who would honestly think a guy like this was attacked? And lost?
Still, there was a hint of realism in their performance. Definitely not mugged, but maybe they were actually broke?
I sighed to myself, folding my arms and looking up at the ceiling. Ah, what should I do? Most people would just ignore them, or perhaps the chosen few would spare them just enough won for a small meal.
I wasn't a kind person. No more than anyone else was, anyways. My philosophy was that it's best to go through life not making waves, and sometimes the politeness required to slip under the radar was misconstrued as kindness. Still, when the common consensus split so unevenly, that left one question: what would I, Y/N, do? After all, 'myself' was the only thing I could be.
I sighed again, much more exhausted this time. "Okay, let's go get dinner. Follow me."
The man's eyes shook slightly, reluctance evident in his expression. Still, when I started to walk out of the store, they followed after me. Damn, being followed by a guy in that outfit was truly humiliating...
The girl caught on much quicker, hurrying to match my pace. "Haha, isn't this sweet? Going out is much better than convenience store food. You're so nice... Mm, I don't think I caught your name?"
"Ah... Yes, my name is L/N Y/N."
"Y/N?" She echoed. My name sounded strange in her mouth for whatever reason. Maybe I just wasn't used to hearing people not from work use it. In fact, she had an odd look on her face, but it passed quickly. "I see. It's a good name!"
I smiled faintly, shrugging. "Thank you. Though, I guess you should be telling my parents that more than me."
"Aah, well, I'm Biyoo! And you can just call him the 'Supreme King.'"
I immediately shot back, "I am not calling him that," the same time our titular king went, "Do not call me that."
A moment of silence passed between us, as though he was seriously debating something. Finally, he spoke, seeming deeply annoyed. "Yoo Joonghyuk."
Was that his name, then? His manners were bad, but I let it slide for now. He would just have to thank me very sincerely for buying him food.
"Here, this place does cheap meal sets. Sorry, I know I offered, but it's nothing fancy..."
Biyoo seemingly paid this no mind, while Yoo Joonghyuk shot me an inscrutable look. Hey, at least I had some money. He was in no place to judge. Even if this would mean I'd be eating leftovers for the next couple of days.
The restaurant sat us down quickly. Biyoo and I pulled our chopsticks apart cheerfully. Yoo Joonghyuk kept his utensils untouched, however.
"What is it? I already apologized that it isn't too nice."
"I don't eat food made by others."
His voice was deadly serious. Who was this arrogant bastard? No, actually, both of them were rude. Why was I humoring them to this extent?
Finally, I shrugged. "Okay then, your choice. What's this I heard about you stealing from convenience stores? Perhaps I should go alert the workers there, I wouldn't want their jobs to be in danger just because some man decided thievery was better than perfectly good food, already paid for..."
He glared at me, but I ignored him, eating happily. Ah, the rice here was so fluffy, I never got it like this when I made it at home.
Biyoo laughed, which prompted me to look up. To my satisfaction, Yoo Joonghyuk had picked up the chopsticks and was gruffly taking his share.
"So, Y/N-ssi, tell us about yourself! I'd very much like to know about the person who's been so hospitable to us poor mugging victims."
"Well, firstly, you don't need to pretend to have been attacked to me. I already bought you food. I don't need your sob story."
"Aha, what gave it away?"
"Secondly, there's not much to say about me.. If anything, I'm more interested in your story."
"I'm sure that's not true! Let's see... What do you do for a job that lets you provide for two stragglers?"
She avoided my questioning easily. Was it okay to be giving out my information like this to two strangers? Perhaps they'd kill me after we finished eating.
"I work at an editing company. You’re just lucky I can stretch my budget these days, or we’d all be going hungry. It’s not exactly freelance? But the jobs are varied enough that it keeps me engaged."
"So, you read for a living?" Yoo Joonghyuk asked, looking unexpectedly interested.
"Er, I suppose that's one way to put it... It's a lot of typesetting and indexing meaningless writing. I do like reading fiction in my free time, though," I confirmed. "Not that I have a lot of that, of course..."
"Webnovels?"
I stopped short. "What was that?"
Yoo Joonghyuk asked again, in a patient tone, "Do you read webnovels?"
It felt like being caught reading said webnovels during work, even though my phone was firmly in my pocket, and this guy had definitely seen stranger things than a reader of webnovels. After all, they had to be read to be popular.
"Yes, a little bit... But they'd almost be harder to avoid these days."
Yoo Joonghyuk and Biyoo shared a meaningful look, though it appeared less like they were making fun of me, and more like they were commiserating on some unknown truth to my words.
"What's your favorite genre?"
"I don't know, maybe reincarnation? They can include both action and romance, so it can diversify. Isn't it a nice thought that after I die, I could come into a world where I could be even happier?"
"You shouldn't think like that," Yoo Joonghyuk said, and I raised an eyebrow.
"Well, it's not as if it's ever going to come true."
He carried on like he didn't hear me. "While you shouldn't completely forsake your plan for the future, nor can you forget the past that shaped you, you have to live in the present. You must live to give yourself the best life possible now, with what you have, rather than thinking things would get better if you had the chance to repeat them."
I stared at him for a long moment, surprised, before I... I burst out laughing. His face darkened, but I couldn't control myself. Biyoo giggled a little with me, patting his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, I'm not dismissing what you're saying. You're just so serious about it. You act like you've repeated your life many times." I grinned at him, rubbing tears out of my eyes. "I have no intention of dying anytime soon. It's just daydreams, anyways."
It was so odd being with the two of them, but I didn't hate it. Feeding them, telling them about my life, and Yoo Joonghyuk's heartfelt words. It made me feel as if we had known each other for a long time, even though it had been less than an hour.
We stayed like that for a while, talking and eating in a way that felt strangely comfortable. It had been a long time since I had last eaten with other people, especially with people so strange. I’d have to tell someone about this. But… who?
As we finished up, I thought about it. Without me asking, they offered to walk me home, and just for the fun of it, I decided I’d let them.
I’d tell my roommates, I realized. They’d berate me for having strangers come to our home, but then they’d laugh, and we’d keep a baseball bat by all of our beds. I’d tell my co-workers, who would make jokes about me treating them to dinner too. I’d tell my family, my mother fussing over whether I needed money and my sister calling me a liar for claiming Yoo Joonghyuk was dressed like an astronaut. There were plenty of people to tell, who’d want to hear about something so insignificant, who would just want to hear from me. How could I have forgotten?
When we arrived at my apartment building, we all hesitated for a long moment, none willing to be the first to say goodbye. Finally, I said, “You know, I should probably ask that you pay me back at some point.”
Biyoo smiled sadly. “Well, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”
“True. But just keep it in mind, okay?”
“Stingy,” Yoo Joonghyuk tsked and I shrugged good-naturedly.
“Thanks for walking me. I could’ve handled it on my own, but it was nice.” I worked my key out of my bag as I spoke, turning to the building. “I hope you two have a good night.” However, before I could even go inside, Biyoo reached out and clutched my sleeve desperately.
“Wait!” She burst. "Before you go, we... There's a story we want you to read! A webnovel, like the kind you enjoy. You definitely have to read it! Do you promise?"
I smiled at her earnestness. Wasn't she a bit cute? She almost reminded me of a puppy. "Alright, alright, I promise. What's the name?"
"That..." Biyoo pouted. "There isn't a name yet. It isn't released yet."
"Then how am I supposed to read it? Even when it gets published, I won't be able to find it."
"No, it's okay! I'm sure you'll find it once it starts getting released, and you'll definitely come to love that story. You made a promise to read it, so don't go back on that promise."
"Ahh, you expect so much from me. What do you want me to do, read every new webnovel until I somehow find the one you're talking about?" Despite my exaggerated words, she nodded, and all I could do was laugh. "Fine, fine! Is it a sad or happy story? I like most everything, but I should prepare myself if it's anything too sad."
Instead of her answering, Yoo Joonghyuk began, "L/N Y/N..." I glanced over at him, confused. His voice was full of inexplicable longing when he asked, "Are you happy?"
"Hah? What's that supposed to mean? If I say yes, are you going to tell me to get used to never being happy because of it?" It was a joke, but his expression was deadly serious. I gave a helpless laugh, but matched his sincerity when I told him, "I... Yeah, Yoo Joonghyuk. I'm happy. I wasn't for a long time, but I'm really happy right now."
He smiled. It was a smile that was forged from years of loneliness and hardship, but finding a way to live despite it all. I recognized it, because I saw the same exact smile in my mirror every day.
"It's a happy story."
"Then I promise I'll read it."
Biyoo gave me one last hug before she left. "We'll both do our best, alright? So, stay happy, for the rest of your life."
Those two were so strange. Still, I watched from in front of the building as they walked down the empty sidewalk, towards the setting sun, until they disappeared completely from view.
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summerinthecloudsx · 5 months
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Thinking about a human woman becoming the first vampire, created by devil!Sukuna as a humorous attempt to punish humans. You trusted him, devoted yourself to him in your weakest moment, and he turned you for his own entertainment. The carnage will be amusing, he thinks. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve been waiting for this day. Dreaming of the unimaginable power to match the bloodlust that had already existed within you. And your first course of action? To form an army. Change as many willing humans as you can, and coerce those who hesitate. The second? Destroy the one who turned you, the one who betrayed your loyalty. After all, you think, perhaps it’s time for the king of hell to retire. Queen has a much nicer ring to it, don’t you think?
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usermoon · 5 months
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e&a
if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while i was gone i would have asked you it's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass but i felt it when i passed you there's an ache in you put there by the ache in me but if it's all the same to you it's the same to me
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nikatyler · 2 months
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Celebrating Women CAS 2024 ✨ 01/31 ✨ An Ordinary Woman
Anička Sovová, an archaeology student who is finishing her bachelor degree. She doesn't think she's anything special, but her friends would tell you otherwise.
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izayoichan · 3 months
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A little peak into the future.
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godzilla-reads · 7 months
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When my mom and I put up this Little Free Library I left out a copy of One Piece Vol. 1 because I had just reread it and felt so happy. So happy that I left a little note inside. The book was taken a few days later and was recently returned with a comment to my note!
Thank you, Z! I’m cherishing this interaction!
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moa-broke-me · 1 year
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Nico finding an injured baby hydra, about to walk away and let it die because hello, hydra... But then he's like... Oh wait. It's a baby.
And it's hurt.
Someone hurt a baby.
So he takes it home, bandages it up, tries to feed it eggs, rats, hamburger meat, anything. It rejects the offer every time, like it doesn't recognize that it's food at all. It's getting thin, the two hungry mouths trying to eat his hand every time he nears it, and he's panicking. So he caves in and summons a cadaver to feed it because he's out of ideas and he's not letting this baby starve. It's little, so its mouths can only hold about a finger each, but it's enough.
He keeps it in a terrarium at first, but it starts to grow, and Nico concedes an entire bedroom just for his baby. He stops saying 'it', naming the heads Mercury and Medusa, still feeding them dead bodies he summons from the ground. Between the two of them, they can eat an entire leg now, though they still don't need to eat very often. He tries to keep the bodies fresh, the downstairs bathtub now permanently filled with ice to keep them from rotting any further.
They're the size of a toddler, excluding the necks that stretch their heads to his waist, and he tries to dress them in clothes they'll like, but it's hard to find clothes with two neck holes and even harder to communicate. They speak in hisses and gestures, not in words. He tries to teach them sign language, and it works, but some signs require two hands, and they can only control one hand each. They bicker and fight over what they should say, even biting each other a few times, which he has to clean and bandage up. Thank goodness their venom hasn't developed yet, the first time it happened he had a heart attack.
He tries not to take them out too often, but they need the sunlight. It's the only way they can stay warm, so he takes them in a backpack, their lower body hidden, their heads on his shoulders. The mist turns them into mere pet snakes, and most avoid them. He doesn't care. He's out having fun with his babies.
Percy finds out, and he's terrified. Nico's like a little brother to him, and he's in danger. He comes to Nico's house, tries to reason with him, tries to remind him that this is a monster, that there's a reason we try to kill them while they're small.
Nico's not having it. "They're harmless, Percy. At least to me."
"So it's never tried to bite you?"
"They" He started through gritted teeth, desperately trying to assert their personhood. "only did that when they were hungry. That's the whole problem, as long as you're good to them, they'll be fine. It's only when you, oh, I dunno, try to chop their heads off. That's when they become dangerous."
"... One day, you'll forget." He insists. "Or it's gonna want something fresher. And it's gonna come after you. Please," He's choking up now, Riptide glinting in the light. "please just let me handle this."
Nico's heart drops to his stomach. "No... No!" He lets out a guttural scream. "I don't care if they're gonna rip me apart one day, they're my babies! They're the only family I have, and I love them, and I'm not letting you take that away from me again!"
"That thing doesn't know what love is!"
"... How... Fucking... Dare you!?"
Nico lunges at him, and there's a fight, a physical fight, one that ends with Percy getting knocked out.
When he comes to again, he's in a bedroom on the floor.
Tied up.
Face to face with the two-headed beast.
The twins, Mercury and Medusa, have their first live catch.
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kaxenart · 9 months
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Scars are something you have learned to value. They are what marks out your body from the hundreds (maybe thousands, who knows?) or similar models that rolled out of Essen-Arp's biolabs. You find yourself rubbing one on your forearm, a rough little split, something that on the good days you might think of as a mark of defiance.
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archangeldyke-all · 2 months
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goodnight babies!! love u all very much <33
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illmoraineakoi · 11 months
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So I had a funny idea the other day, and I thought you'd all enjoy it
(Read More bc this this is long)
The Abyss is canonically not as air-tight as PK thought it was, and I personally headcanon the Vessels as having a craving/obsession/hunger for light (specifically the Radiance's; they recognize pale light as “their own”.)
What if PK was minding his business one day, and just stumbles across a Vessel that's infiltrated his Palace? And he's like “Where the HELL did you come from?!” Like he legit double-checks that the door is still sealed. It is. And he’s just so Confused.
And now he's just got this second Vessel that's randomly shown up. That he has no idea what to do with. He only needed one, they're meant to be tools, but at the same time, he can't quite forget the fact that these were supposed to be his children. He can't quite bring himself to just get rid of it, even if it doesn't have a purpose.
He ends up just sitting on the issue, trying to think of a 'solution'. It's fine, it's not even really that big of a deal. It's just one extra Vessel. He’ll figure out a use for it eventually.
A few days later, he walks past both Vessels in the hall – only to stumble a step because "Wait a moment – those aren't the right horns!" And sure enough, he double-takes, and they're not. They're completely unfamiliar. These are two new Vessels.
He's so flabbergasted he actually tries to ask where they came from. And of course they just stare at him. He's so confused.
He's even more at a loss for what to do with them. It's getting hard to even remember to double check if the Vessel he's interacting with is the Pure one. He's stressing out about already accidentally fucking up their ‘hollowness’.
It just keeps happening. The White Lady corners him with a very disapproving look on her face, going "Did you forget to tell me something, my beloved?" while pulling out a Vessel from her robes. Herrah arrives unannounced and plops one on his desk, “I think you’ve lost something, Wyrm. Keep your cursed spawn out of my tunnels.” Ogrim and Isma attempt to stealthily deposit two of them in the ‘Vessel Room’ without him noticing, but the seal work on the door was designed to alert him every time a Vessel left or entered. He doesn’t even ask where they found them, he just looks at them with resigned acceptance and shuffles them into the room.
When Lurrien arrives for his bimonthly meeting to discuss the growing infection rates with a cracked mask and heavily bandaged hands, a tall tri-horned Vessel absolutely seething in a tight bundle of rope, the King honestly just wants to lay down in a ditch at this point. He can't figure out where they're coming from. He doesn't know WHY they're coming to the Palace.
He didn't even think this many had survived.
And he still doesn't know what to do with them all, aside from shoving them into the “Vessel Room”. It takes so much of his concentration just to try to keep them occupied or distracted with something, because if they aren't, they turn to the rest of the Palace, and they are somehow even more of a chaotic nuisance than Hornet was. Nothing was safe; if it existed, a Vessel was going to find it and get into it. And potentially steal it, he discovers after an eventful game of "What are you putting in your mouth--nO COME BACK HERE-"
And then Ghost shows up.
And if he thought the other Vessels were menaces, the King had no idea what he was in for. Ghost is easily the worst of them all, combined. Nothing is sacred to Ghost. Ghost is basically a honey badger: they do not give a fuck.
Ghost is the first Vessel the King accidentally gives a nickname to when he calls them a 'Little Nightmare', a title that Ghost only seems to take on with pride. The King regrets.
The King is beyond exhausted. Trying to juggle the Vessels, training the Pure Vessel, dealing with the increasing number and severity of Infected, rising tensions with Deepnest, the Hive and the Mantis Tribe, and the futile search for some other way to deal withe Radiance that he knows he won't find, because he's already out of options. He's sleep deprived, barely eating, constantly stressed, and more times than not forgets to bathe. He's in a downward spiral, he knows it, and knows he can't continue as he is. But he has no choice. He just has to keep going, while hoping, praying, that he doesn't mess up and doom his kingdom, his people.
And just when the King thought he couldn't handle any further stress...
The Vessels go missing. All of them. They just vanish.
It takes a while for anyone to even notice, but it’s the White Lady who does first.
And at first, the King doesn't pick up on his wife's worry when she tells him she can't find them. It's only when she repeats herself, insisting that they're nowhere within the Palace walls, the guards and Great Knights have looked everywhere, twice, and she hasn't personally seen them since last night, that the implication finally sets in.
The Vessels are missing.
The Vessels are missing.
He's never put together such a massive amount of city guards so quickly before in his entire Kinghood. The order is simple: find the Vessels, bring them back to the Palace. He doesn't understand why his body was shaking so much as he watched nearly every guard in the city leave to search. It must be the stress. Or he just forgot to eat again.
He expected the Vessels to be found quickly. As small and indistinct as they are, they tended to stick together as a flock or in groups. They were also not very sneaky or subtle about their presence, most of them being little terrors on stubby legs, so some bugs must've seen them. They also couldn't have gotten very far. At most, a couple of hours, he tells himself as he paces the entrance hall of the Palace, waiting for news or a team to return.
He wonders how they got out of the Palace, and resolves to find the weak spot and patch it. Without another exit, the Vessels wouldn't make it past the Guards if they tried to leave again. Perhaps he should place detection seals around the perimeter of the Palace...Just in case.
News does not come. Nor do any of the guards return for over half a day.
And when they do start trickling back, they're all empty-handed.
They give reports, of bugs seeing the Vessels, of their possible movements throughout the Kingdom, but the Vessels themselves were elusive. None of them had even caught sight of a single one.
The King is angry, enraged actually. He's also terrified. He feels like he's in pain, even though he's not wounded. He wants to burn things. Break things. Claw his workshop to pieces. He wants to scream, to seethe. To sob. He's so overwhelmed with so many conflicting emotions, he doesn't know what to do. The shaking has returned. He feels like he can barely breathe past the rock in his throat. His body feels oddly numb. He’s only ever felt so helpless when confronted with the Infection itself.
The order still stands: Find them. Just find them.
He's restless. he feels anxious for reasons he doesn't understand. He searches himself, even though he knows it’s a risk to his own life; the Radiance would take any shot she had at him. He scours the Kingdom, looking for even the slightest traces of Void. He finds signs of it all over the place, small amounts, but not a single whiff of the Vessels themselves. He cannot even tell what they were doing, if anything, because they seemed to have gone quite literally everywhere.
Days pass.
With each hour that goes by without any word of them being found or them returning (by the Stars and Fates, does he hope they just walk back through the front door. He wouldn’t even be upset, he just wants them to come back.) the King becomes more and more distressed. More despondent. More hopeless.
The Kingdom, outside of the City and the villages, is not safe. So many viscous, infected creatures that would willingly try to feast upon a tiny Vessel. Food was becoming scarcer; the icy black of their bodies wouldn't be a deterrent, even if their toxic Void would most assuredly kill whatever consumed them eventually. The acids were so caustic they'd easily eat through the thin, small maskshells, leaving not a single trace. So many perilous places to fall from. So many unstable caverns to be crushed or trapped in.
The King wondered if he should alter his order to include looking for any signs of their corpses as well. He cannot bring himself to do so; to voice such terrors aloud would make them unbearably real.
Every day is the same: There is no news. There is no news. There is no news. We have not seen them. We have not found them.
Until suddenly, there is news, but it’s not the news he expected or even needed.
The Infection was dying. Rapidly. Just...shriveling up, into gnarled vines and sunken pustules. The bright glaring neon orange was dimming to a lifeless murky brown. Those ensnared in the waking dreamsleep woke up, came back to themselves.
Everyone was dumbfounded. What did this mean? What could have possibly happened? Did the Radiance...give up? Or did something happen to her? What could possibly affect the Radiance enough to disrupt her power so quickly, so thoroughly?
The entire Kingdom looked to their King for answers, and he had none to give. He didn’t know.
He could only work to prevent panic and hysteria, and hope that someone comes back with answers soon.
Through the efforts to assuage the public’s concerns, the King continues to wait, desperately, for word on his Vessels. In the evening, he waits by the front gate. Watching the bridge, for hours. Hoping, even as he’s growing hopeless. There, yet not.
The King is just about to give up for the night, to return inside, to curl up in his chambers and fall into a restless sleep that fails to rejuvenate or ease his stresses, where the images of dead and mutilated Vessels terrorize his nightmares, when voices call out, alarmed, catching his attention. He turns.
He freezes. Stares.
The Vessels were right there, huddled in a group as they slowly walked across the bridge. All of them. Together. They were there.
They were safe.
They were all scuffed up, splattered in the orangeish brown muk and smelling of ash, nicks and dents on their tiny dirty shells. Some of them looked worse for the wear, being supported or carried by others, leaking void from various injuries. The taller tri-horned one with an overgrown cloak had a nasty crack on it's head, their shortest horn just outright gone. It was messily bandaged, and they seemed to be in pain, but they were alive. Another, with two short pairs of horns on the side of their head, was clutching their chest, limping along with another who was missing half their curled horn.
Ghost supported the Pure Vessel, who looked utterly ravaged. cloak torn and stained orange, a deep crack through their right eye socket, empty space where their tiny left arm used to be. Ghost, Little Nightmare, supported a nasty crack down the middle of their mask, deep grooves in their horns like blade wounds and scorch marks searing their tattered cloak, nail shattered completely in half.
The Vessels stop when they see him, staring back. The King doesn't even realize he'd approached them until he was almost on top of them, staring down.
And then he realizes they were carrying something between them, but they're moving, shifting, spreading apart--
And presenting him with a large blade still wet with neon orange ichor.
A familiar blade, he knew was once attached to the Radiance.
He can only stare, as the Pure Vessel steps forward, dipping a tiny claw into the slowly congealing orange and writing slowly, "We ate the Light. No more sick dreams."
And it hits the King right in the gut that the Vessels had been listening to him talk about the Infection, heard him complain and worry over it. Had listened, and taken it upon themselves to try to get rid of it.
And they'd somehow succeeded. Somehow managed to find, to trap, to fight, to defeat her. Not unscathed, not without a cost, but without loosing any of their own. They’d all challenged a God, and killed her.
Had ripped out her gleaming blade, the symbol and embodiment of her power to cleave through dreams and minds, to take it with them.
To give it to him.
The Vessels push the bloodstained blade into his hands, and he stares at it for only a single second, before dumping it to the ground beside him without a care.
A twitch of surprise goes through the Vessels, and air of confusion and outrage, but he doesn't care; he lunges forwards and wraps his arms around as many of them as he can reach, pulling them tight to him and grabbing for yet more until he’s somehow got them all in his arms. Clinging to them. Burying his face among their stained shells and nicked horns, and sobbing.
Of course he cares about the death of the Radiance. The severity of that will hit him later, after he's had time to absorb it properly.
For now, the only thing he gives a damn about is the fact that his children are all safe, back home. Dirty, busted up, and in a world of trouble once he's done weeping with relief, but alive.
Nothing else mattered.
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Books of 2023. THAT WE MAY LIVE and NO EDGES from Two Lines Press.
NO EDGES came in my Migrations subscription box earlier this year, and I finally got around to reading it this week! It's a collection of Swahili fiction translated to English. I love little multi-author anthologies because it's the perfect amount of taste testing without committing. My favorites were A Neighbor's Pot by Lusajo Mwaikenda Israel and the excerpt from Nakuruto by Clara Momanyi.
Up next is THAT WE MAY LIVE, which is speculative Chinese fiction in translation! The whole series of books looks really cool, so I'll probably be adding all of these to my library piecemeal.
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vahalia-cress-ffxiv · 5 months
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Repose
Slowly the door to her bedroom closed behind her and there was a deafening silence besides the gentle crackle of the flickering fire within Vahalia’s quarters. Perhaps being alone to her own devices in this instance wasn’t wise but it was better than snapping and diving in for someone’s throat.
The swell within her chest blossomed into a mixture of anger and adrenaline and while she thoroughly enjoyed the high and sensation a pique of adrenaline could flourish into, this was far from an intoxicated, lulling high. It wasn’t pleasant – it was rage.
From day one she had wanted transparency and now, she was fumbling through various conversations with one individual to where over and over her time was being wasted playing stupid little mind games. There was no way that this was how marriage was. That this is what she signed up for? Suddenly the hindrance was overshadowing the benefits of the union.
She didn’t even want to look at Osric right now.
It had taken enough of her swallowing her pride since their last encounter to approach him, and she had thought she did enough of a good job in accomplishing that. She approached him, letting him know she had arrived back home and that she was sincere enough to ask if anything had happened in her absence.
Just what else was he digging for? He all but tried to pry her open and then would concede once the discussion was brought into question. That voicing how she felt about the whiplash and lack of a forthright approach had somehow made her look like she was insane. 
All of this seemed so juvenile in the grand scheme of things and finding some center while she stood within the open space of her room, Vahalia felt the surge within her tempering itself. A quiet roar – normal.
There was a myriad of things she could have said or lashed out with but had chosen not to – it simply wouldn’t have been fair.
Stalking across the floor, she brought herself to the large armoire and opened it, finding some small rolled pellets within the hollow of a shallow tin. Putting the piece under her tongue she merely let it dissolve, her eyes closing as once more she tried to find a center of her peace and avoid the bubbling ire that dangerously skirted her better judgment.
She turned and set her attention elsewhere allowing herself a generous pour of gin into a crystal tumbler, coupled it with her essence of choice, a heavy swallow to wash it down with….she felt better. Relaxed. She felt the warmth in her veins like a cozy hug with each swallow of the gin she took. Reaching for the bottle she merely filled her glass one more time and snatched a linkpearl from the table beside her bed.
What a silly thing to get worked up over, but still it addled her, fucking with the very threads of her core that her irritation couldn’t be properly expressed and might not ever.
Vahalia found comfort within the settee of her room, plush cushions offering some succor in the moment but there was always a need for more. How sad it had been that she become a slave to her feelings as of late – she despised it.
And with a soft motion of thumb to pearl, Vahalia waited for a beat before she finally spoke, “...I need you. How soon can you arrive?” 
Where else could she turn?
Spitefully she imbibed from the glass, perhaps faster than she typically would indulge but it was fast-acting enough to dull her senses and whatever rage was begging for release from within.
Hakan arrived at the estate not long after he'd answered the call; business had kept him in Ishgard, and so made fortune smile on Vahalia. From the steadiness of her voice, and now the sight of the building whole-- at least outwardly-- he'd been correct in the assumption that heavier weapons, heavier armor, weren't necessary. It did leave him curious all the same however, as in all the time they'd known one another the pearl had never been used in such a manner, never had the words 'need' transmitted over it. 
His feet carried him through the foyer, the dark lit halls he'd only just seemed to make plans about, and to the outside of her door. Normally he'd turn the handle, enter without a word, but that was always with a different need in mind. Sometimes his, sometimes hers. But this wasn't normal times. If she was feeling anything, anger, vulnerability, affording Vahalia a moment to compose herself was far from the worst thing he could do by announcing his presence first. So he rapped his knuckles on the door, twice, then waited for some kind of response.
There was silence until the knob of the door turned and through that slit in the door was one vibrant honeyed eye to gaze out, sclera pink though it might have been hard to deuse from the darkness of the hall. Still, the silence lingered as she drank in the visitor and stepped back the door finally opened as she let him in, the scent of juniper berries hanging in her wake and her head hung low as she waited for Hakan to enter at his leisure.
It was late, perhaps a little later than she would normally call upon him but this was a little different. The entire time it had taken for him to knock and enter, she had been thinking up excuses – anything better than the kneejerk reaction in having called him to begin with. How silly it might have been for her to snap her fingers expecting him to come – had she ruined his evening? Had she interrupted him in the middle of something, work or sleep?
Did her selfishness know no bounds?
Hakan furrowed his brow, blinked, the door opening in a far more reserved way than he could have expected-- Which was also to say he hadn't expected it at all. He'd assumed she'd simply call out, announce that he was free to enter. He'd find her lounging in one of the plush leather chairs, pensive perhaps. Instead she was bordeline shyly peeking at him through the crack in the door she'd made. He placed his hand against the surface, pushing, to enter the room.
Once within, he sought to close the door behind. Nothing in the room stood out to him, not even the scent really; aye, it was more sweet, fragrant, than it was normally, but everyone liked a change now and again. There was no broken mirrors, furniture, or smoke. So he took a moment to breathe in that scent before turning to face her. Extending a hand, he sought to place a finger beneath her chin and lift up her face so their eyes could meet. In his gaze was no judgment, just curiosity. 
Save for offering his touch, he remained silent, waiting for her to speak what she would.
The silence felt like eons but had been mere seconds. A myriad of thoughts coursed through her but each thought had only settled on her cutting through her pride, none in which was suitable enough. His touch was familiar, welcomed and not strayed from and within the swell of her eyes there had been brimming tears she refused to release. Not pain or sadness – pure anger.
Anger. Anger. Anger.
All she knew in the moment was the course of anger that just surged through her like raging waters, hot like lava to scorch everything in its way.
Her hand at her side had been balled into a fist, her jaw settled much tighter than necessary and a steely stare in her eyes that soaked in the person before her. It wasn’t that she had been in danger, but the only danger to her was very much herself. Destructive as she was known to be.
Once before she had leaned on Hakan proclaiming to be tired, she had felt relief but now it was a matter of necessity to feel…safe. Less than crazy, normal – she was feeling far more mortal than she cared to admit and finally, it came without a second thought, “I hate this.”
She couldn’t bare to look at him when she felt the threat of tears fall and instead she listed forward to let herself fall into the front of him. Stalwart, stoic, a pillar to her state of weakness – just enough to breathe him in through the soft intoxicated state, caught somewhere between a pleasant high and maudlin. Through the haze she had chose to dull herself with, Vahalia could still sense him, feel him and smell him. The comforts only she knew he’d be able to offer even without spoken words. She didn’t need him to say anything, she just needed him to exist with her for the time being.
If not Hakan, then where else could she find comforts when spells of drinks and pops of tinctures hadn’t been enough to still her nerves?
If there was but one thing he could recognize with ease, one emotion, anger was it. To see it within Vahalia's gaze was not quite rare, but to see it so deep that tears pricked at her eyes? Choked her with silence? Though fear was a sentiment almost alien to him the next closest thing to it stirred in his chest and his curiosity deepened. His hand moved from her chin up to the back of her head with ease as she fell into his chest. Instead of responding just then, instead of drawing her towards a seat like he wanted, he remained where he was, holding her, as she needed. 
The hand she could not see, could not feel, flexed at his side. Tightened into a fist, then relaxed, leather creaking.
After a time, minutes, he finally broke the silence. "Vahalia, my witch, you will have to explain. I do not want to guess, to presume, make things worse..." His jaw tightened, mouth shut. There were few things he could offer to create more ease than he already was simply by existing in her presence. But, there was one that had worked to some degree for the both of them in the past. A ritual, almost.
"I can run you a bath first, if it'd please you."
And it certainly did. All she had offered in the moment was a nod and the time spent going through the motions and Hakan assisting in readying a bath, Marion had been popping in and out of the room swiftly to lend a hand with the task. Towels, extra wood for the fireplace, candles for the mantle and even cigars and a trolley of drinks had been brought in for Hakan. The staff within the Cress house had known him well enough and spent enough time to know his preferences despite rarely talking about him – and almost never openly.
Once they had been left to their privacy and the door closed and locked behind Marion’s leave, Vahalia had eventually found some center and voice to begin telling Hakan what had transpired. Physically, she was well and good, and that much was evident as her body hadn’t been marred or marked – perhaps her integrity and pride were a bit more bruised than she would have liked. She went through every bit of the conversation she had with Osric while it was still fresh within her mind and slowly, she had lowered herself into the depth of the hot bath; not even her heirloom necklace had been on her person. She wanted to simply burn away every lingering piece of bad feeling that clung to her form.
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The distaste for the evening was evident in every word she spoke and still happened to force back tears that had threatened to spill and show weakness. Every part of it, she hated.
“I should have listened to you. Saved myself the trouble of trying to go about everything the correct way to save the name possible shame. I should have just done whatever the hell I wanted, gods and ways be damned, and wore the ignominy with delight. I cannot say the same would have been welcomed by my kin.” she spoke quietly and she finally looked across to Hakan, finding his eyes. Finally, she had felt a little more whole – safe.
“All of this is too much trouble than it is worth and no matter how I try to accommodate it doesn’t seem to be enough.”
Marion's assistance was certainly welcomed, it even soothed the small portion of himself that was annoyed. Drawing a bath was a chore he hardly minded so long as it was carried out for the sake of pleasure, relaxation, or a combination of the two. To do it as a way for Vahalia to calm and collect herself? It grated on his nerves. 
He wanted, eagerly, to hear just what had pushed her to the point where it was needed. But he knew patience, and he could be that if nothing else for a little while longer. And then explanation began, and he found himself sitting beside the tub. At some point as he was listening he had partly drifted within so his fingers could skim along the surface of the water. 
"Your reasons for doing as you have were sound," he replied after another small stretch of silence; it was a complex topic to absorb, let alone begin exploring. "The influx of resources that came with the Slater estate allowed you to progress further than you would have otherwise, shortening the timetable to speak. My way, what I suggested, would've made things more difficult. Challenging." 
He drew his hand closer to the inner frame of the tub, and tapped his fingers against the material.
"Three days and change. That's how long you've really been married to Osric, not three weeks or a month. You've spent more time with me than him--" A sharp and amused breath escaped him. "I'm not defending him, he's not worthy of that. I merely point out a potential reason why this...argument. Hmph." He shook his head and continued, "-- why the argument occured? Neither of you know one another."
Hakan knew Vahalia wanted to be soothed, but in his mind, one couldn’t soothe a wound that still bore hints of infection. If anything, refusal to burn out the remnants of such would only lead to a worse result.
Vahalia resigned to a slow blink and looked away, she had expected all of his judgment and well-equipped ‘I told you so’s’ and even now, he never had to bring himself to say it to know that deep down, somewhere, he had felt it, “You’re not wrong.” she whispered out, “I thought a year of him being in my life would have been enough for him to know who I was, the things I do, my ambitions and desires. He knows nothing of me but then again, how can I expect anyone to outside of you? Perhaps I was…too hard on him.”
The water shifted suddenly and the side of her fist slammed along the boundary of the tub, “Fucking idiot. He couldn’t just say what he wanted. I’m a fucking mess up here now.” her finger violently pointed towards her head, “Wanting to make things unnecessarily difficult and when I try to be a good…wife –” she paused, that word almost sounding sour on her tongue, “ – I’m trying.”
Keeping her hands from lashing out, she sank into the water a little more and held her hands beneath the moving water to tuck them between her knees. Best not to have lashed out and hurt herself or….Hakan for that matter.
Hakan snerked. "Tch, a year of what? Passing conversations over nothing in particular? Of import? It's one thing to be friendly with someone you've no obligations to, who you could part ways with without a second thought or concern, it's another to actually be involved. And Osric, he was never concerned or interested in what your goals were, not compared to his own. What he wanted above all else, what consumed his every waking moment, was the annihilation of his house. I gather, with what scant evidence I have, that the idea there'd have to be something after he achieved that desire ever entered his mind."
He watched with some skepticism as Vahalia attacked the tub, his gaze on her hand and then the point of impact before he shifted to look at her eyes once more. "Careful. Easy to fracture a bone there," he chided, though not ungently, voice still low, steady. As she sank into the water he turned away his head, rested more of his weight against the tub until he was no longer kneeling but sitting properly. Or as properly as he could. "Things weren't easy between us, not for a long while. It's still not easy at times, your stubbornness against mine, my pride against yours.”
Curling his fingers, scraping his knuckles along the inside of the tub, he hummed. There were more hard truths that Vahalia was owed, ones that had to be aired before she could begin making what decisions she would.
"Neither of you," he slowly began, "-- are working together. You work to the same goal now, yes, but you do it apart. You hoped for a partner, but you must've expected Osric would never be exactly that. Not in the beginning. And now that Osric has a modicum of power for once, power that he did nothing to earn, its misuse -- or lack of use -- is a thorn in your side. I'm not a florist or botanist, I've no suggestion outside enduring it on how to deal with thorns save one; ridding yourself of it. But if that's what you choose, you'll have to be more careful than if you had gone unmarried. Divorce him, you'll be looked at with suspicion, worse, for taking his lands and retainers and casting him out as soon as he wasn't needed. Kill him, and it'll have to be done in a way that looks tragic, random. A natural disaster, for example, or a ship lost at sea with all hands..."
Vahalia was unnaturally quiet as each word bit into her memory, burning and binding there as a teachable moment and ideas and quite short of what she might have thought to be salt in a wound. Tiredly, her eyes looked to the side at Hakan and she turned on her side to face him more clearly, a fraction of a few ilms from his mien, “I’m trying, I really am.” she admitted, “And for what it is worth, I thought he was cut out for it. He had told me countless times he was and assured me he could fit the mold, be what was necessary, that he understood what came with wearing the hat.”
She rested her jaw along the edge of the tub, “I realized entirely that it would take a while to work into. But now expectations are being made of me when I had asked him months ago if he had any and he told me no, only to now harp on me for not meeting some. That is where my frustrations lie, that and the last of being direct and pussyfooting around things – it’s grating.”
“I know,” he replied. “You never do things by half, not even what you could afford to. As for Osric being able to fit the mold…I can’t say anything there, beyond people lie; they do it all the time to get what they want. And sometimes the people who do don’t even know they’re lying.” 
He craned his head till the back almost touched the lip of the tub and looked sidelong at Vahalia. “There are some truths that change as time goes on. What Osric was fine with months ago, when he was distracted by a plethora of things, is now an issue, for example. Without anything to fully occupy his hands, his mind, he’ll start questioning things, start having other desires. One way or another, you’ll have to deal with that, whether by trying to soothe his woes when they crop up, or neutering him.” 
“I’m not sure I’d consider him a liar or someone who might lie and not know it but….you’re right.” she resigned, a hard thing to do in the moment but the more she had done it, the easier it seemed to become. Hindsight was 20/20, after all.
She let the silence between them linger for a moment before she spoke again, “I hope I didn’t ruin your evening or wake you.” turning in the water she rested back, allowing her eyes to find the ceiling – a place of focus, “I know you’re busy with other matters. How is the medicine holding up?”
Hakan lifted his hand from within the tub, reached out to her, and began tracing his fingers along the hair framing her face. He said nothing about how he was right; it wasn’t a situation where he could take pride or joy from it.
“Your medicine tastes something awful, so I suppose it's doing its job for now. My sleep is no more restless than it normally is, I’m not feeling aches…You did good work. Hopefully, after I accomplish my own, you’ll be able to continue it. And before you start, your call; it didn’t disrupt anything. If anything it provided a sooner opportunity to let you know some…changes, that are going to be made to your estate.”
If it wasn’t his touch that coxed her eyes from the ceiling she looked towards him, it was his words. A thought caught at the end of her tongue and she dare not say it, not even to insinuate. There was a time when her home had also been his, even if only in passing, “I’m going to assume those are good changes then? Tell me then, I’d rather hear of something good this evening to cap my night with.”
“Mmm, mostly. Some of it might rub you wrong for a bit–” He exhaled a breath from his nose, lips pursing briefly. “I understand your preference in keeping the pool of your retainers small, so in lieu of hiring out flesh and blood guards, we’re going to design three automatons to act as a second line of security for the estate. They’ll patrol or be positioned in certain hallways; those leading your room, Valeria’s, and wherever you might keep more important items. Documents. They won’t be armed with anything lethal, just enough to disable and distract those who trespass.”
Visibly her brow furrowed, “Automatons…do I have to do anything with those or are you planning on having Sieg keep up on them from time to time?”
Hakan knit his brow, a thought striking him, and nodded. “You’ll be able to give them commands, though it’ll be limited to the basics; attack, stop, power down, and so on. Anything more will require a far more advanced system, that which mammets tend to have. But I didn’t think you’d approve of those wandering around your house, clashing with the aesthetics as they might. We’ll also be installing some hidden bays to hold a number of drones to act as a second line of mobile security for your home in the event the first isn’t enough. Again, designed to debilitate and disable– I wasn’t sure you’d want a system that could be hacked and turned against you with lethal force. The rest of what we plan is relatively simple, trip alarms, silent alarms, a safe room for you and Valeria.” By the pull of his mouth and his gaze, it was clear Hakan wanted more than just those measures, but he was trying not to cause undue inconvenience in her life.
“I –” she paused trying to absorb everything he had told her. It was a lot and not that she hadn’t appreciated the gesture, it simply sat within her, stewing, as she tried to wrap her head around how much more advanced the world had been becoming. How engineering had only been scratching the surface and Sieg’s work had far exceeded anything she could have imagined, “I’m interested to learn.” she added, conceding that these additions would absolutely take time to adjust to.
Adjustments. More adjusting.
She swallowed roughly and nodded, “You’ll have to show me once you’ve completed your work.” she smirked in his direction. Already, she had found herself in the thick of something new and beyond the old ways she knew of Ishgard. Times were changing – if only medicines and medical devices had adapted further along as much of the other Tek had. No doubt countless hours and days poured over learning the work of Garlemald.
Hakan nodded. “It’s all fairly simple, shouldn’t take you more than a day or two. There’ll be systems in place to let us know if any of the magitek operates sub-optimally or deviates from its function. The programming will take care of almost everything, but…yes, I can show you how to go over all of the rest. Given your lifestyle, I figured the measures we’re taking would be sufficient, but if at any point you see a need or want to expand, Sieg or I will accommodate.” He let his hand fall, fingers brushing first along her cheek and then collarbone, before letting it hang over the frame of the tub. “The only other pressing matter I have that I think you’d appreciate knowing, is an excursion back to the pirate base. I don’t know what we’ll run into if it’ll be empty or not, but Sieg will be joining me for support. Nijah too, if she accepts.”
“I see. What will happen if Osric does not approve of these additions? You and I both know that there is a very good chance he might have questions about things I don’t have the answers to regarding the systems you and Sieg are putting in place.” she blinked, thinking about her words further for a brief moment and then a shake of her head came.
“Nevermind, I can handle that.” the water moved and her frame stood from the tub, dripping wet as she padded over to Hakan and settled to sit in his lap, facing him, whatever water would have moistened his clothes be damned “Well…if you’re leaving for a little while on business, are you opposed to staying the rest of the evening with me at the very least? Marion brought you drinks.” she began, her hands finding the collar of his shirt, nails finding the peek of flesh at his neck and tucking delicately under the material, “And you have cigars. I’m sure you could find the accommodations to be tolerable?”
Hakan gaze lifted as Vahalia and though he could've been forgiven had it strayed as the water dripped off her body, it didn't. He opened his mouth, about to offer to get her a towel– at least until she moved and made her intent clear. “Ah. Hmm.”
A huffy breath escaped him, and he brought the one arm not resting along the tub inwards, hand setting at the small of her back. “Cigars and drinks were never what made this place tolerable– that is to say, I'm not opposed. But, you're free to try and convince me all the same.” . . . Collab w/ @belgravexiv Mention(s): @osric-cress-ffxiv
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insomniacwriter17 · 1 year
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Is there something that little Billy wouldn’t do or have because he is shy but he really wants it?
this may be controversial but…the one thing that billy is still so shy about is his bathroom habits. and not even just when Big, but when he’s Little, too.
- he trusts steve with every ounce of his being, but the idea of voicing something so private, especially after growing up with Neil Hargrove’s A+ Parenting, has billy all kinds of worried.
- steve had bought the pull ups all those months ago and was so sweet and non-judgmental about it; hardly ever mentioned them. but every time billy saw them and thought about putting it on, his cheeks heated up and shame filled his tummy.
- there were a select few times the pull ups made an appearance: the day of court after neil was sentenced to prison, and the day billy was sick and went to the doctor. otherwise they went untouched.
- at first he told himself it’s because he didn’t want them. but after awhile, he realized maybe he was scared because he did.
- but he tried to ignore the thought, because it was just too much to think about. billy’d gotten everything else he wanted about being Little, he could handle not having this.
- he knew stevie was doing exactly what Big billy had asked him to do: not make a big deal out of it. when they were at home and billy needed to go, be would just slip away, almost unnoticed.
- when he was Big, that worked great. but Little billy realized he didn’t want that. he wanted stevie to see just how hard billy tried to be good; he wanted stevie to say it.
- because every time robin would look at nancy and say, “mama i gotta go potty”, nancy would tell robin what a good girl she was and ask if she needed help (the answer was almost always no).
- or when eddie would be entranced watching tv or reading a book and be wiggling just a little too much, stevie would offer a gentle reminder to eddie. “check in with your body,” he tells the metalhead. “is your body telling you what it needs?”
- and when eddie would inevitably scramble to the bathroom and then slink back into the living room with a much more relaxed posture than before, stevie would tell him what a good job he’d done listening to his body.
- billy listens to his body! he knows when he needs to go potty and he does it and nobody gives him even a second glance.
- even the days he is So Little he doesn’t do much but snuggle stevie and suck on his pacifier, he still pulls himself up toward the surface enough to go to the bathroom. even if walking away from stevie makes billy’s eyes wet with tears and he feels way too small to be wandering around the house by himself.
- but because steve is infuriatingly good at boundaries, he says nothing because thats what Big billy asked him to do.
- logically, Big billy knew that if he told steve what he wanted, he would get it. steve loved praising billy, whether he was Big or Little. but whenever he was aged up, the idea of walking up his boyfriend of all people and essentially saying “hey i’d really like it if you’d get excited for me every time i get up and go to the bathroom” made him want to crawl in a hole and die.
- billy knew that’s not what the conversation would be, obviously, but for as embarrassed as he was at the mere thought, it might as well be. so instead, he says nothing and just gets more and more disappointed every time he drops and steve doesn’t cross the boundary.
- so one day, billy decides to cross the boundary — force the conversation. it’s not the smart plan, the mature plan…he knows it, but he commits to it anyway. because on top of being painstakingly shy, billy hargrove was also really. really. stubborn.
- billy’s settled comfortably in his headspace — Little enough to want his pacifiers and sippy cups, but not so Little that he doesn’t want to play. right now he’s sitting in front of the coffee table with tank, building with legos while the aristocats plays on the television.
- steve’s reading on the couch, his gaze moving to billy every few pages to make sure he’s doing alright. it’s been a quiet day: max was on a date with lucas and robin was at work, so it was just the two of them.
- billy had been sucking down water and juice all morning, batting long eyelashes at stevie every time his cup was empty, pouting, “m-more, p’ease?” he’d not taken a single break, despite the fact that his tummy was telling him he should’ve gone potty a while ago!
- steve noticed billy getting restless, but paid him very little mind at first. some days, billy was just wired. but usually on those days billy would ask to do something physical: play in the backyard, go for a walk, maybe even grin innocently and ask if they could go to the toy store.
- but then steve realized this wasn’t billy’s normal restlessness. billy wasn’t just fidgety and bored, but he seemed uncomfortable. over a few minutes, steve’s attention was pried away from his book, instead trying to suss out why billy was so restless. “bills?” he finally called softly.
- billy’s heart leapt into his throat. it was happening! stevie was gonna ask if billy was listening to his body, and then billy would! and just in time, too, billy really needed to go! “mmhmm?” he murmured, looking up to stevie hopefully. he wiggled on his bum, thighs squeezing tightly together.
- “you okay down there?” stevie’s eyebrow was raised, and billy’s excitement plummeted. “you want to play outside?”
- no!!! billy wanted to scream. no, he didn’t want to play outside! he wanted stevie to ask him if he needed to potty so billy could say yes and then stevie would see how good billy was at listening to his body!
- stevie watched as billy’s face lit up and then immediately fell, the boy dropping tank in favor of his hands grabbing at his shorts. the athletic material on top of billy’s thighs gathered in billy’s clenched hands. “no outside, okay,” steve sat up, book abandoned to the side. “bills, love, are you okay?”
- billy squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head and tried not to cry. this was a stupid idea! panic began to rise in his throat as he squirmed again, not sure what would happen next.
- steve was really concerned now, and he stood off the couch, coming closer to billy. “what’s the matter, baby? does something hurt?” he crouched next to the nearly-frantic boy, worry evident in his tone.
- billy’s eyes were teary when they opened and trained on steve, wide and all but begging. “what hurts, sweetie? can you use your words?”
- but billy couldn’t use his words, his words were replaced with sad, pitiful whimpers as he continued to shift and squirm in place. his head was fuzzier than it had been, too, and he couldn’t figure out how to fix this.
- steve studied him a moment longer, taking a shot in the dark and saying, “does your tummy hurt?” immediately, billy was nodding, and it suddenly made sense. well, the problem made sense - billy needed to pee, and quite badly by the looks of it. but what didn’t make sense was why billy was acting like this.
- steve was confused. in all their time together, this had never happened. “bills, honey, do you need to go to the bathroom?”
- billy nodded immediately, scrambling to his feet without waiting for another word from stevie. he ran from the room to the downstairs bathroom, leaving stevie in a confused silence, still kneeling on the floor.
- steve had moved to the couch with tank and billy’s green blankie when the blonde finally returned. now clear of the desperation that had fogged his brain, billy was mortified. how could he have let that happen? he heard his father’s voice somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind: pathethic. hargroves don’t show people they have to piss.
- steve was ready to ask if billy wanted to talk about, was going to offer a hug and the comfort items billy had abandoned. but then billy started to cry, weak and miserable and curling in on himself. “oh honey,” steve frowned, concern only mounting. “come here.”
- billy didn’t deserve cuddles with stevie! he was just a big dumb baby. but billy only had to wrap his arms around himself for a moment before stevie was making his way across the room to him, hugging billy even tighter. “it’s okay,” steve promised.
- but billy was shaking his head against stevie’s shoulder. “why isn’t it okay?” steve questioned gently. “do you wanna talk, bills?”
- billy’s shoulders shook with a quiet sob, muted against stevie’s shoulder. it had worked, but at what cost? with scared, sad, teary eyes, billy looked up at stevie and nodded.
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battleslippers · 1 month
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might have to pick up that huge us history book labeled 1960 (probably the next two decades two 🥲) because if I write something it's not gonna be half assed I'd rather waterboard myself than show my friends something that doesn't have at least a little research in there
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