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clarks-letterman · 11 days

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URGGGGGEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! | zed necrodopolis x male!reader

a/n — putting this as male reader because it's implied. not explicitly stated but I don't want to misadvertise the fic lol, gender neutral pronouns and body parts used. I don't really like the smut in this but the idea was funny to me… this fic will definitely be non-canon by the time Z4 releases!!

summary — Zed goes to Mountain College and gets a sex toy, his roommate comes to their shared dorm at a bad time.

words — 3k

warnings — smut! 18+ | implications of sex and actual sex occur, uses of the word "gooning", zed zombies out and they fuck so... feral!Zed, slight dubcon!! - first zombies fic so it may be ooc or just poorly written

~~~

Fall was in full swing at Mountain College. Soon the tops of roofs would be snowcapped and walkways would be sprinkled with salt, but for now, everyone tried to enjoy the weather while it was still warm. Sloping sides brought the occasional gusts of wind that all of the early morning go-getters had to deal with. They had to learn the hard way to bundle up if they wanted to make it to class without becoming the next monster to roam the Earth—probably as a snow yeti or something similar. The lecture halls were grand to handle the kind of metamorphosis a lot of human and inhuman students would be going through over the course of their early adult years. The only place where people were forced to grow together were the dorm rooms—as a push for inclusivity at Mountain College left everyone in close quarters to someone—or something—they had no clue existed before college. It was another thing to learn about, to understand that the small circle of your hometown isn’t the only circle to exist. People have groups that come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them are going to fit together nicely, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be an effort. But there was one unspoken rule that everyone had to learn, regardless of their major: don’t enter a room with a tie, sock, or anything hanging off the door handle. Not at parties, not in classrooms—if there was such a thing to happen, and especially not at your dorm.

When Zed arrived at Mountain College, he never expected anyone to be as pro-zombie as they were. His roommate was insanely warm and kind to him. No one really hid who they were here. They were at that stage where they left the conformities of high school and living with their parents to being so overwhelmed with freedom that they had no way to grasp everything they had. The freedom; the new flaws determined by society were still unclear. Zed was one of those people, being free from the shackles of Seabrook and Zombietown’s driving force in unity to being another student in a sea full of them. It wasn’t to the same extent that he had gone through, but the established scene of breaking free from your past to start something new is what really pushed him to start trying things. He wanted to be a part of the community and to do that, you have to understand the area first.

Zed started by doing most of his workouts around campus, then transitioning over to the city that was built around Mountain College. The short drive down to the city below could be completed in a timely manner during a daring jog down the road leading to the developed area. He never wore more than a tank top and shorts for his morning runs. The college was north of the city, so he only ever rarely went into the downtown area during his morning runs. He decided to go farther on his run today since he had an upcoming game and needed to burn off the endless brain-fest for dinner from the night before. So many calories, so little scores during his big game was how he viewed it.

Most of the shops still weren’t open, but there was one on this block that was still open. It turns out that the shop was not opening early in the morning, but in fact, closing after a very late night. The neon signs had yet to be turned off, and one reading ‘OPEN’ in big illuminated letters drew his attention. Next to it was a red triple-X sign.

The fleshlight was cobbled together with scraps and carefully welded parts to resemble the repurposed items of Zombietown. It reminded him of home, and the clerk told him that the toy was advanced, deceiving the average person by appearing to only be made of scraps and to have the basic, archaic function of just fucking it. Inside it was a hidden set of magnetic coils that both provided the correct amount of electromagnetic pulses through the zombie’s dick to prevent them from turning into the much more unpleasant version of themselves and it heightened the feeling of jerking off while the machine made contact with the skin from the inside.

He listened to what the clerk had to say about remembering to take off his Z-Band so it wouldn’t overstimulate him to the point of numbness, and that the side effects of it were mainly just slowed brain activity from “too much gooning.” As Zed would be quick to learn, it was called going cockdumb. There was the opposite, too, where his zombie side would forfeit all rational thought and quickly take whatever the closest thing to fuck is around to poundtown.

He learned quickly, though, and did as he said when he got back to his dorm. The order of instructions was simple: get yourself ready—get your dick hard, is how he interpreted it, take off the Z-Band, and use the fleshlight to calm all of his zombie urges. Before he started any of that, though, he placed one of his ties around the door handle facing the hallway. Then he got undressed, stripping down until the full-body mirror over his closet’s sliding door reflected his pale figure and vibrant green hair. He stood in the frame, checking out his recent gains for a second—still eternally lanky, but he was starting to fill out in the places that mattered.

His hands roamed over his body until he got down to his nether regions. Zed rubbed his dick until he was hard enough to stick his dick in the fleshlight, then watched in the mirror as he took off his Z-Band. The area around his eyes started to darken and dark veins started coursing all over his body. He took a few deep breaths before reaching for the fleshlight, each breath drawn in becoming more raspy as his insides changed in a way he couldn’t see. Carefully, holding on to it with an intentionally lighter grip so as to not overuse his own strength, he guided it over his cock and watched his tip disappear into the slit. He moaned, it was tight. He moaned again, it was vibrating. And then he looked back up at his reflection, the monstrous features were gone.

Zed never told you about his little reveries into sex and pleasure as the weeks went on. After that faithful day, he found that he came harder and started to crave the feeling of release more and more. The feeling was simply addictive to him: a mix of tingles from the electro-pulses and genuine pleasure from the stimulation. But with how frequently he did it, there was bound to be a day where mistiming or miscommunication would expose him in the act. Today was that day.

It was around two in the afternoon, the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow and Zed had stopped his morning runs in favor of a quick indoor exercise and then moved to jerking off while the sun rose—you were returning to your shared dorm with the zombie from a lecture, notably earlier than usual. It was a Gen-Ed for biology, something that Zed had learned when you approached him one night in the hopes of having him help you. If he remembered correctly, it was about zombies—a newly implemented unit in the curriculum, now finding its way into its own circle of life. New studies emerged about the carbon emission of their dead cells that Zed couldn’t help with, but he explained how he felt that he functioned and the way he and plants interacted. That was at the beginning of the semester and it was how he found out that your class ran until around two-thirty. Usually.

Zed was enjoying his time inside for a change. Having finished his classes for the day and feeling the testosterone of his morning workout preserved through it all, he decided the best thing to do during his alone time was to use his broken-in toy. Zed was confident enough to not hide his sex life—well, he was confident enough to act like he was having sex with someone else, not his sex toy or the fact that he edged himself until he literally couldn’t hold it in anymore. That part was thankfully undisclosed by everyone since they knew not to enter his dorm, but you entered without thinking. He was laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling like the white ceiling was painted over with the limitless stream of thoughts flowing out of his head. His eyes were shut, soft moans slipped out and he barely shifted the fleshlight on his dick out of the fear of blowing his load too early.

His load threatening to come out dissipated quickly, though, when he heard the door handle click. Then the hydraulic mechanisms that would normally push the door shut started to whir as it opened. He reached for the blanket he slept under, letting the fleshlight hang off his dick so he could find something to cover himself up. He was mad at himself for slipping into the habit of playing with himself while naked, but it was so much easier to bunch his comforter up against the wall and lay in bed with easy access to all of his holes. In the seconds—which felt even shorter for him—he covered his lower half and just accepted that you would see his bare torso. With enough smooth talking, he could convince you that he had just woken up from a nap.

“Don’t be mad.” You said, coming in, hoping that he wasn’t with a naked girl or anything. You tried keeping your view of the inside of the room as limited as possible by turning your head just in case. “But I got out early ‘cause of the weather and I saw the sock…”

The only issue was that his fleshlight was forming a bump in his sheets, meaning that he couldn’t be laid down without it looking like he had a huge dick—or what would be the more reasonable explanation: he had a sex toy. Either way, it looked unnatural. So while you were still acclimating to the sight of him, purposefully looking away to give him time to cover up. You were still under the impression that someone else was in there, but you heard the clatter of something hit the floor, followed by a hasty curse under his breath.

You decided that you had given him long enough and finally looked into your shared dorm room. On the floor was a machine made out of old zombie parts that seemed to have broken into pieces, scattered around a pair of bare feet that padded around the carpet in panic. Your eyes trailed up to see Zed, naked and with a raging hard dick. Still freshly coated from the lube he pumped into his fleshlight, still wet enough to glisten in the sunlight pouring in the window behind him. And to say he was naked didn’t mean much, because he was truly naked—no Z-Band in sight on his body. His dick was red for only a second before the veins on it darkened along with the rest of his body.

Somehow, his dick looked to be bigger, more intimidating. The dark shade it turned caused it to look like anything but slimming. His chest started heaving and that drew you to his arms, bulging with thick black veins that trailed up his arms and increasingly curved arms. They started finding their way to his midsection until his hands reached his dick. Neither one touched his pulsing cock, but motioned around it as if he knew that the fleshlight was unusable. He started fucking the air like he knew the presence of it from his more conscious and tame state.

Incoherently, through a gust of grunts and growls, he started speaking. It sounded like the friendly words he used during your past exchanges but were blatantly needy and desperate. You couldn’t quite hear what he said, so you moved closer under the assumption that he still had some control. Some sense of sanity without his Z-Band on. But as soon as you were within his reach…

Zed grabbed you, pulling you closer to his naked form. You looked at the dark circles around his eyes before meeting his actual eyes. A few words slipped through—as if he could still recall the language he had used for years somewhere deep in his brain—slurring out a loose connection of words that sounded like: “You break it… I break you…”

Zed’s mind was everywhere yet nowhere at once. His feral side was feeling and processing all of the emotions from his “human” side. So many things in his head were whirring for the first time in a while, and nothing was shutting down to compensate for the rising new emotions of rapacity—the urge to have it all and take it all. His head was already running at one-hundred and ten percent so now he needed to claim things in the room. To make things his. His room; the little voice in the back of his head that he suppressed about being annoyed by the fact that he had to share a room with you was finally being heard. You’d walk out of this—or better yet, be carried—with a new perspective on ownership.

Sex with Zed was fast. The urges brought on by his true zombie nature allowed him to rip off the clothes you wore to attend class. They were in shreds, adding to scattered bits of his broken toy, some landing on the sharper parts of it so that you didn’t have to worry about stepping on something painful as he guided you to his bed. It was the closest one to him and the easiest to throw you down on since the sheets were all undone, unmade. He would make you a mess in the next few moments so it didn’t really matter to him.

But for the first time, Zed was faced with a challenge in his zombie brain. He had put you on his bed—the faint smells of sex and sweat emanating into your nose from how much he jerked off in his bed, typically covered by his comforter—but now he looked at you, laid on your back, head on his pillow, and he was faced with one of two choices: did he want to cum in your mouth or your ass? He wanted to do both, and he hit his head in frustration, grunting. The simple thoughts his undead brain was meant to handle couldn’t stomach this as easily as brains.

A feeling deep within him told him that your ass would bring him the greater amount of pleasure, so he hopped on the bed with you, kneeling. His increased strength allowed him to lift your legs easily and with an unmatched haste. Your hole was in clear sight, and he wasted no time in burying himself down into it and lapping away. It was another sensation he had, thanks to consuming a million videos of porn in his spare time. That, and he was still a zombie. Flesh was something that he wanted to taste during his feral frenzy. It was the only thing his tongue tasted: the saltiness of skin. He felt so good, and you wanted to bury your fingers in his vibrant green hair to push him deeper into you, but that seemed a little too risky in his current state. Besides, he didn’t stay down there long. His head reared up a few moments after going down on you, his clear intention to fuck you until he comes, not the other way around.

Thanks to already fucking his fleshlight, his dick was still coated in lube; still sheening with its slick surface reflecting the light. When he put his dick in, he didn’t feel any friction, and he wouldn’t have cared if he did. The friction didn’t bother him and if it didn’t bother him, then it shouldn’t bother you. It never became a problem, though.

Zed decided that the perfect position to keep you in was with your legs over each of his thin shoulders. He started thrusting, taking little to no time to go as fast as he could. He was desperate, uncaring if you needed time to adjust. But, like everything else about his zombie-heightened feelings, what it took to make him cum went up too—much higher than his regular edging point.

Zed was a quick learner. He found which spots made you feel the best—well, which ones made your face twist and your head turn into his pillow as he fucked you. That seemed to make him climb to the peak faster than anything else. Your ass was tight and soft, sure, but it was your reaction to how he dominated you with his big dick that really made him get going. He unleashed a flurry of moans that were deeper than the voice you got used to hearing.

Wet sounds and slapping filled the room until he came for the first time. You could feel your ass burning from the rough slapping and the way he kept up the skin-to-skin contact—breeding you until he was out of breath. Just like when he first transformed into the beastly version of himself.

Zed pulled his dick out and you could hear the wet gushing, as well as the feeling of your hole leaking with his cum. He must have been really pent-up because it was already ruining his sheets and still seeping out of the tip of his dick. You looked around for his Z-band, still gathering your surroundings and acclimating yourself to the point-of-view of his bed. It looked to be on his dresser and within arm’s reach, so you went to grab it. But Zed stopped you, guiding your hand to his dick that was still hard. This was going to be a long night…

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stardustgates · 5 months

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Author’s Notes: Possibly OOC behaviour? I’ve done my best to stick by Canon as much as I can, but given I’m a newer player, I don’t know the relationship between Kafka and Silver Wolf or the characters individually as well I’d like to. Though I did do my best, please be aware that I may have taken some creative liberties in their characterisation and inner thoughts regarding each other. Also I am aware that this may just be 5.5k words of nonsensical BS but I haven’t written proper fanfiction in a hot minute so take it with a grain of salt. Not so much of a reader/canon thing and more like a reader AND canon thing currently. Perhaps that will change in future works, who’s to say? Oh yeah this is a SAGAU.

Warnings: Canonical In-game violence, references and descriptions of dissociation via player-induced body possession, references to drug use (one sentence), yandere tones if you squint really hard (shes a slowburner ya’ll), and a single swear word :3

Beyond the mind, within your body.

Description: Unaware that your presence has been made apparent to the eccentric duo during your first run through of Honkai Star Rail, you happily indulge yourself in the immersive (tutorial) world before your eyes. Kafka and Silver Wolf attempt to adjust to the feeling it brings, which leaves their minds constantly switching between distrust and euphoria, and all the things in between.

Word Count: 5.5k

Hoyoverse’s newest game hadn’t seemed much to your liking when you’d first heard the announcement. For one thing, you weren’t particularly pleased with the constant stream of ‘HONKAI STAR RAIL - PLAY NOW’ interrupting your YouTube doom-scrolling every other ad; Not to mention, you weren’t very keen on the gacha aspect.

Within your small circle of friends, you’d been known to cave easily when attractive anime characters were involved and you weren’t planning on another hyperfiction to solidify your position as the group’s resident simp. That being said, with such a title swaying above your head like a shiny silver dagger, you’d held a metaphorical death grip on your wallet, solemnly swearing that you’d keep your distance from the game for as long you were able.

Ultimately that so-called iron will of yours didn’t last so much as a year, as just seven months after its release a simple character trailer was enough to break your steadfast resilience. Well, it wasn’t ‘simple’, if you were being honest with yourself- It was a brilliantly unique masterpiece, tailored to the exact essence and spirit of his character. You were sure Argenti wouldn’t be released for a good while, so you decided to pick up the game and grind what you could before his arrival.

That was your plan at least. Your friend had warned you a few months prior (Though admittedly, you hadn’t been paying much attention at the time.) that the download and installation would take an exhaustingly long time. Well, it was better than Genshin Impact had been- but still, you were getting bored and subsequently decided to fetch yourself something to drink in the meantime.

With your back turned to the loading screen, you waltzed out of your bedroom with little care in the world- oblivious to the ominous glowing cracks slowly sprawling across the screen of your device.

As you returned a few moments later, you found that it had finally finished installing! You’d certainly waited long enough. Sure, it wasn’t as soul-sucking as Genshin had been but your patience wasn't that of a saint’s either. With a renewed sense of anticipation, you hit start and breezed through the usual terms and conditions without reading anything and let out a sigh at the beautiful change in scenery.

It perhaps wasn't the smartest idea to skip it completely- but you had spent so long waiting already that you weren’t going to bother wasting time reading a document filled with dolled-up words you could barely pronounce.

✄————————————————

Herta’s Space Station’s defences hadn't been particularly difficult to slip past surprisingly, though Kafka didn’t recall any mention of difficulty regarding entry in Elio’s script, so she supposed the lack of security wasn’t of any particular importance.

Despite the calm confidence that usually accompanied her on these little operations, Kafka couldn’t shake the strange feeling of being watched. It wasn’t the usual sort of lingering gaze or sharpened stare, but a vague pulsating heartbeat that faded in and out, as though blinking through blurry vision.

Needless to say, she kept her guard up. Playing none the wiser and bowing mid-air to the tempo of a rather graceful tune. She forced her shoulders to relax and gently swayed her body, controlling her every little move with practised ease- even as that strange pulsating presence slowly sped up and stroked the fires of an oncoming headache- as the elevator descended to the station’s ‘ground’ floor.

(You remained none the wiser to her sudden awareness, the rapidly changing scenes flashing past your eyes far too quickly to pick up on a single, brief second of stillness in her body.)

A sudden explosion reverberates across the station's cold, metallic body and brings Kafka’s impromptu air-violin session to a screeching halt. Simultaneously, that presence settles over her body like a thick blanket of fog. That ‘gaze’ she had felt becoming so vivid she could feel its weight pressing down on her tongue.

She has little time to process the feeling before the usual blueish glow of Silver Wolf’s communications screen flickers into existence before her very eyes.

“... Seems I came at a bad time.”

“No, No – I think you couldn’t’ve timed it better. Twenty-three-fourty-seven-fifteen system time. Very punctual, Kafka.” Silver Wolf almost sounds impressed, though Kafka suspects she’s only trying to butter her up so she’ll let the girl go off task again. Perhaps, under different circumstances, she would have been kind enough to allow it, but with the nature of their current mission and this inexplicable presence, Kafka doesn't find herself in a very generous mood.

Kafka merely hums in response and ignores the empty praise.

“Elio always tells the exact future. So What’s with the explosion just now? Was that part of his script?” Silver Wolf picks up on her cue to focus without any fuss.

“Twenty-three-four-four-fifty-nine system time: The pulses from the explosion cause a massive breakdown from the master control system.”

Pulses. Perhaps it’s linked to the feeling curling itself around her senses?

“You did that?” Kafka doubts that Silver Wolf would waste effort on something so minor.

“No, the antimatter legion did it. They completely invaded the space station two system hours ago.” She whistles in response and glances down the glass panelling to the approaching ground floor. A small group… annoying, but manageable.

“Alright, so do we need to fight the legion?”

“Dunno, Elio didn’t say anything about it, so it doesn’t matter.” Hmm. Silver Wolf made a good point.

“Got it. So from now on, I'll be in charge of this operation.” She feels that tingle of a smirk reach the corner of her mouth, and smiles a little wider in anticipation.

“Copy. Can you let me have some fun this time? Our last few operations turned out to be pretty dull.” Kafka lets out a playful hum as she ponders over her colleague’s request with faux consideration. She can practically hear Silver Wolf’s stifled groan in the second of silence that passes.

“...Sorry~ I’m afraid there’s not much I can do for you- our task this time is just to ‘place’ the target properly.”

Her choice of words is careful, though not enough to cause any alert in potential eavesdroppers. The feeling still hasn’t left.

“But if you wanna go look for some fun yourself, I won’t stop you.”

“I mean… after all…” she chuckles lightly as the blue hologram blips out of her vision, and reaches for the holsters tucked into her lower back. “After all…” Kafka readjusts her footing just in time to watch the elevator’s doors slide open, the sound of metal dragging against metal pinching at her ears.

“Elio didn’t put it in the script… Why would it matter?”

Just as the impact from her gunshots flitters across her skin, Kafka feels her mind being pulled back to the edge of her skull.

The group of voidrangers in front of her feel distant and smudged, the sockets of her eyes creating a blurred tunnel of vision that refuse adjust no matter how much she tries to blink it away. Their dark forms bleed into black speckles that crowd her already limited vision until she’s staring directly into the singed edges of the universe.

Kafka’s body… is no longer hers to command.

✄————————————————

She returns to her mind with startling swiftness. Her memories of the brief battle suddenly bubbling up as though pushing themselves through a thick soup of aether. She feels disconnected from the memory but can at least recall that she’d lost control of her body before blacking out.

She attempts to think back on that burnt, golden memory but is stopped by a sudden wave of nausea. She opts to set that aside for another time and refocus on the operation. Elio had not mentioned this happening anywhere in the script- so either this had no significance or…

Still, those Voidrangers hadn’t proved to be much trouble- in fact, they’d been less of an annoyance than she had prepared for. Either she’d been far more ruthless than intended or the antimatter legion had lost its touch.

“When did the anti-matter legion become so weak?” She asks out loud.

“I could only attract this much. Did you really want the entire legion to come here?” Silver Wolf speaks in feigned annoyance, her usual behaviour.

She hadn’t even realised. Kafka chooses not to mention anything for the moment, instead opting to subtly gauge the extent of control this presence… or rather... Entity, seems to have over her.

“This lot won’t be able to slow down the Astral Express crew.” Silver Wolf sighs in response on the other end of the device.

“Relax, a doomsday beast is also here.”

As she approaches one of the station’s automatic doors, Kafka feels it slip back into her body as if wearing her like a coat. Its influence feels… less heavy than it previously had been a few moments ago. At the very least she remains conscious this time; A strange lightness in her feet as she feels herself stealth towards a lone voidranger lounging about the area.

Her movements come to her now like instinct, striking down enemies with admittedly far more efficiency than she was naturally capable of. If it weren’t for her body being strung along like a puppet against her will, she’d almost be grateful for the power and resiliency it granted her.

Kafka has barely had her fill before a euphoric sense of power seems to swell up all at once; Killer instinct pumping through her veins like a well-oiled machine.

Ahh. Now this… this particular feeling wasn’t so bad.

Truthfully she’d liked to have toyed with this one a bit longer, but she knew all too well that it wouldn't manage to survive her next attack. She chatters to no one in particular, the ecstasy in her mind clouding whatever decorum she would have usually displayed.

“Good times never last… time to say bye.”

“Ah- She’s so cool…”

Kafka tenses up at the stranger’s voice, just as the swirling dark mass in front of her collapses into itself.

She sheathes her sword and adjusts her gloves, ignoring the voidranger approaching her from behind. Just before its darkened claws reach her, Silver Wolf’s ability activates no more than a hands-width from her shoulder blades.

“Cleaning up other people’s mess isn’t in my job description… y’know Kafka?” Silver Wolf huffs out, but her voice has no real bite in it. Was it her? She wasn’t usually one to doubt herself, but that fog of exhilaration certainly could have played with her mind.

“Yeah, yeah. Where did you send it Silver Wolf?”

Kafka turns in time to hear the gooey pop of the silver-haired girl’s bubblegum as she hops to her feet. She isn’t sure if it's Strawberry or Grape, but the artificial sweetness and scent of no-fruit-in-particular is so strong it actually grounds her mind for a moment.

She sighs for no real reason, but it brings her relief regardless.

Oh.

She hadn’t realised how bad her headache was.

“Some random Co-ordinates, not important.” She avoids Kafka’s gaze for a reason she couldn’t care to name before taking on an adorably defiant stance, her hands placed at her hips as though it would help her short stature in any way.

“You care about where that voidranger ended up?” She doesn’t. But she’d rather think about that than, well… She didn’t know what to call it at this point. But it was distracting and she needed to focus on literally anything else for the sake of what sanity she had left.

Though some could argue that she wasn’t sane at all- which was only half true because most people’s definition of sanity varied greatly from her own.

Oh, Silver Wolf was still blinking up at her expectantly.

“Of course not- I’m just amazed at this fancy technique of yours, as usual.” she smiles down at her colleague, who only rolls her eyes in response. To the girl’s credit, she’d been dealing with Kafka’s empty flattery for quite a long time.

“Just a little trick of tampering with the data of reality, I wouldn't call it fancy.” Kafka smiles a little wider, following behind as Silver Wolf strolls down the hallway. Her tells were always so obvious.

“What were you looking at just now? Let me see.” Silver Wolf huffs a bit as she settles herself onto a desk and faces her.

“Herta’s toys,” she begins in an almost mocking tone

“A catalogue featuring the space station’s collection of rare items.” Her fingers briefly tug on the white fluff of her jacket as she speaks “They’ve got quite a looot of interesting gadgets~”

Kafka’s previous interest (however feigned it may have been) dies down a little at the prospect of these ‘gadgets’ but nonetheless she indulges Silver Wolf’s unspoken desire to share what information she’d dug up.

“Like what?”

“There’s this gun, it can rate any creature within its crosshair as a score from 0 to 100.”

“... Doesn't sound very interesting.” Her brows pinch together and her mouth stretches into a thin line of clear disappointment. Not one to be disheartened so easily, Silver Wolf continues on

“Aren’t you curious how much you would score? I kinda wanna know mine.”

So this is what she’d been hinting at since earlier. Kafka crosses her arms and takes on the tone of an exasperated mother having finally given up after being nagged at for far, far longer than the reality of it.

“Fine. I guess we can swing by and play with it, if it’s not too far. What’s our destination?” She redirects Silver Wolf’s distractable attention onto their current objective with practised ease.

Hmm.

She feels a little cold for some reason… and those watchful eyes haven't left during the entirety of their conversation. Kafka’s guard raises a little further than before.

Her colleague’s eyes flit down to a small blue hologram, her fingers swiping past various screens until arriving at what Kafka could only presume was a list of directions given to her by Elio.

“Go down the corridor, behind the door… ooon the left. There’s a room where some kind of rare item is stored.”

Kafka feels the entity strongly now, she stares just beyond Silver Wolf’s shoulders where it feels most concentrated. The feeling she is met with is a dense smouldering hotness. It’s like melting iron dripping down her throat and burning it in the process. It feels almost itchy.

She redirects her gaze back to Silver Wolf far quicker than she’d intended to and resists the urge to scratch at her throat.

“So that’s where the Stellaron is?” Kafka is somewhat relieved when the feeling seems to simmer down. She once again debates speaking on the sensation during the slightest lull in their conversation but when Silverwolf turns her head back to face her, she finds the girl’s gaze to be much sharper than before.

“That's where we can find out where the Stellaron is.”

Kafka immediately knows that Silverwolf has finally caught on to this feeling and says nothing as she readies herself for the next half of their mission. Almost instantly, she feels the presence shift and roll over her shoulders, like a cat stretching out its limbs.

It's languid and smooth and she feels her tense- She had been tense this whole time?- muscles slowly relax until she finally feels that usual calm focus she’s so intimately familiar with. She hadn’t realised the extent of how cold she’d felt when it had stepped- strange, it feels like a person?- away.

Kafka decides that her feelings towards this... Being- She isn’t totally sure if it feels sapient, but it certainly has some form of will… That much she can tell- are mixed, to say the least. She wonders one more why Elio hadn’t mentioned anything about something so foreign and strange but sets the thought aside and refocuses on the task at hand.

She locks eyes with Silverwolf briefly, and just as she thought, Silverwolf is most definitely aware of it at this point.

“The central area of the space station is up ahead. There’ll be loads of Legion Void rangers there.” Silver Wolf hops to her feet and saunters toward the door’s control panel. A bit too casual to be natural, but it doesn't cause the feeling to stir, so she says nothing.

“Okay.” Kafka breathes out.

Then that feeling of puppeteering seems to stitch itself into her mind once more, albeit in a much more faded sense- it feels more like muscle memory than it does being pulled from her own body. She allows it to pull her along and lead her toward whatever it wants. As her fingers glide over the room’s control panels and her heels click against the cold steel of the station, she feels that fog of exhilaration settle over her again- that almost euphoric surge of strength from earlier suddenly vivid and fresh in her mind.

Silverwolf seems to feel the building strength in her own body too, as she quickens her pace when they turn the corner to find themselves at the back of a particularly strong-looking voidranger. She huffs out in bemusement and half-heartedly mutters out some encouragement to her colleague.

“May as well kill them all.”

Not needing much more encouragement than that, Silverwolf leaps forward with as much grace as her short form can allow her and drags her digitally enhanced blade across the muscles and sinew of its chest. She leaps back beside Kafka as it staggers on its feet and tries to regain its footing. Kafka’s arm pulls itself up, gun in hand, and fires out a cascade of bullets that each burrow and pierce into its flesh.

“This… seems a lot easier than it should be.” Silverwolf comments under her breath quietly.

“Well, let’s count our blessings–” Kafka is cut off as her arm is singed by the blast of the voidranger’s fire canon.

“Tch. Didn’t hurt.”

Silverwolf pulls out her holographic system at such speed that Kafka feels the static waft across her skin.

“Hmph, still. This combat needs optimising.” Just as the creature aims its weapon once more, it’s hit with a blast pulled from the loosened strands of reality itself.

“At that speed? Too slow!”

Kafka almost feels sorry for it, as she watches its body disintegrate while collapsing into itself.

Unfortunately, the girls are not left with time to bask in their victory- Silver Wolf lets out a small yelp- the entity has left its place on Kafka’s shoulders and draped itself over her companion it would seem. Her short colleague adjusts to the sensation of its guiding hand far better than she had, if her losing conscious was anything to go by.

Kafka follows behind silently, eyes trained intently on the girl in front of her for any indication of danger.

“Hold it. Someone.. Or something is up ahead.” she warns quietly, arm extended out to her side like a makeshift barrier. They both come to a sudden halt as the entity violently rips itself from their bodies and settles just beyond their skin.

Goosebumps this time.

The cold seems to get worse and worse each time it separates from them… well, her. Silver Wolf grits her teeth. Kafka notes the tiny pearl of sweat rolling down the side of her face. Still a shock to the system then.

“Looks like we’re the ones getting ambushed.”

“...But they’re the ones getting besieged.”

✄————————————————

The game has felt pretty cool so far, and you quite like this Kafka woman. You don’t recall her being part of the main cast your friend had rambled about however many months ago it was, but you hoped you’d get to see a lot more of her.

Her design was really nice- though strangely familiar?- and her voice was pretty too! Silver Wolf was alright, but she hadn’t really caught your interest so far, so you werent sure what to make of her yet.

They did seem to be close though, but less like friends and more like tired workmates who’d been stuck in the same dead end job for a decade- that is to say, it definitely felt like they were used to dealing with each other’s nonsense.

Were they a ship? You could see it. Ah, another battle, sweet!

The combat system Star Rail used wasnt particularly innovative or anything, but it’s playstyle was strangely addictive- especially the Ult animations! Kafka’s especially had you nearly squealing with how badass it was. Did the MC have a cool one too? You could hardly wait to see.

✄————————————————

The mood is light despite the circumstances, they both feel a sense of safety and confidence while the presence pulls them along, as though leading them in a dance. The Voidranger’s movements stand out like a pindrop in an empty room. Predictable, and delectably so.

Silver Wolf barks out a short, quick laugh- a taunting thing that aggravates the musclehead stomping around in front of her- before decapitating the creature in a single, swift move.

“You took the bait, just like that?” Her jubilance is cut short by an attack from her blindspot, it isnt fatal- hell it barely counts as a battle wound- but its enough to flip her mood in the opposite direction. “Tch.”

Kafka laughs lightly at her, amused with her momentary lapse in spacial awareness. Silver Wolf scoffs and scowls lightly at her. Really, like she hadn’t gotten hit before?

Just as she opens her mouth to hurl a barely-an-insult-but-im-still-annoyed-with-you comment towards the magenta haired woman next to her, Kafka’s aura shifts somewhat. Time seems to slow down for a second as Silver Wolf watches the woman’s pupils dilate in slow motion.

Had she appeared like this? When that wave of energy had swelled within her?

She receives no answer to her unvoiced question, and instead hears Kafka’s voice ring through out her ears.

“That breathing sensation. Remember it.” Silver Wolf gulps in a breath of blood-scented air and breathes out a sickly, golden-sweet taste. As Kafka’s bullets rain down upon the bodies of their would-be-ambushers she can't help but feel pure ecstasy in the moment. Truly…if this was a drug she’d be hooked like a fish to water.

Even just being near it is enough to cloud her mind.

“Alright, now that that’s over with…” Silver Wolf’s body relaxes significantly as Kafka speaks, the strength of whatever had possessed them slowing dripping out from their bodies like tree sap. She feels like she just got a massage.

“I could get used to that.” She isn’t sure who she’s talking to, but it feels appropriate to voice. Kafka ignores her and spins her around to face the door, and Silver Wolf seems to go into auto pilot as she unlocks the control panel blocking their path, stepping lightly as her taller colleague gently pushes her forward without a word.

The monitoring room is completley empty. Nothing but the quiet beeping of a few monitors and the rustling of swaying leaves, courtesy of the air conditioning unit humming softly above them.

“Huh. not a single soul here. Impressive evacuation work. Did herta organise it herself?” Kafka seems mildly impressed- and entirely unaffected by the sensation Silver Wolf is still trying to shake from her skin.

“According to the access history, she hasnt logged in her for over six months. The evacuation was directed by the acting lead researcher - a girl named Asta.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Oh, right. Elio said we wouldn’t run into herta. It seems she really isnt here.” Though something else definitely was, but Silver Wolf supposed they weren’t going to be making any conversation on that topic.

She sighs, and scrolls through her holograms nonchalantly.

“Elio’s Script doesnt include any info about the location of the stellaron. Which means in the future he foresees…”

“... we would find the stellaron in a non-physical way?” Kafka crosses her arms, easily having picked up on her train of thought and already dipping her metaphorical toes into several different plans of action. She was always efficient like that. Silver Wolf strolls over to the water cooler and pours herself a cold cup. She gestures to Kafka who only shakes her head in response.

“This space station is packed with extraordinary objects, I wouldnt be surprised if theres one that can make it happen.” She takes a long sip, the cooling sensation bringing relief to her sweltering body. The combat efficiency was nice, but she was left feeling like an overheating graphics disk everytime it took control of her. She idles on a page in her hologram briefly before continuing on her scroll-fest.

“Hiding something extraordinary with something extraordinary… this is pretty Herta. I assume you know what to do? I mean, You’ve been reading that cataogue for a while?” Ah. Perseptive as ever, Kafka never changes. She ignores the heat building in her ears at the prospect of being caught slacking-off, and bins the styrofoam cup as she turns to the older woman.

“Hmph. I’ve got all the clues we need. The only piece missing is a simple trick- maybe this entity thats been stringing us along could lend a hand? After all, it doesnt have a physical form.”

(You didn’t expect them to involve the player like this! What an awesome storytelling device, and it would hopefully grant a lot more player agency too! Hoyoverse had truly out done themselves this time. Feeling a surge of excitement at being learning you’ll be able to lend a helping hand ‘directly’, you decide that Silver Wolf is also really cool.)

Kafka says nothing in response, only staring down at Silver Wolf in consideration.

“Why dont we have it help us investigate the terminals around here, that item we’re looking for may be inside.” The magenta haired woman only sighs, internally cursing the girl’s lack of caution. Though… she couldnt deny that it had only been helping them so far.

“Alright, lets give it the spotlight.”

“Oh god, I hope I don’t fuck this up…” Kafka stills. The same voice from before. So it can speak? She tucks the information away in her mind for later.

She watches it guide her along the messily arranged desks and flickering monitors. Stopping at a memory storage cart- which is, of course, missing its memory. Not useful for her current objective, but it at least told her that whatever it was could see the same things she could.

“...I cant see the memory storage for this terminal.” Her body shifts slightly.

“This is the monitoring room, the must have deleted the records and made a run for it. Classic.” Silver Wolf is still scrolling through the holographic catalogue, idling against a desk in the middle of the room. She doesn’t look up, even as Kafka is strung along past her towards a monitor on the other side of the room.

“You don’t seem to be very affected by it? Its control over you, I mean.”

“And you? You seemed a little weary earlier.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s just new, thats all.”

Kafka’s hand reaches out to flick through various active surveillance cameras, interesting but ultimately fruitless.

“Hmmm… I can see the whole space station on the surveillance screen. But not the Stellaron.” Silver Wolf scoffs indignantly behind her, she almost sounds offended.

“Even if you could it’d be a trap. Herta doesn’t display her collections.” She turns to her hologram once more.

“This thing isnt very good with investigating, is it?”

Kafka expects some form of insulted rage to squeak in her mind’s ear, but she hears nothing. Though faintly she imagines a rather adorable ‘Hey! I’m trying my best!’ echoing in her skull.

Kafka staves off the sudden urge to get defensive in response and clamps her mouth shut.

Silver Wolf sighs at her lack of response and shifts onto her feet.

“Make your way over here then. There’s no point in trying to search like this.”

“So? Got a master plan? I’m all ears.”

Kafka’s tone takes on a slightly irritated edge, for a reason she herself doesn’t quite understand. If Silver Wolf picked up on it, she chooses not to say anything and instead gestures to the warping static of the holographic screens lining the walls of the office.

“Its a matter of hacking the surveillance system directly.” She says matter-of-factly, smirking playfully as her iconic vandalism plasters itself onto every screen in sight.

“Aha, I see. Herta’s collections aren’t in the system so anything unaffected should be our target.”

Their heads are guided to turn and face the back of a lone monitor by the main desk. Ah. that one then. As they both stroll over to investigate, Kafka feels a strange sense of pride bubble in the back of her mind. Not for Silver Wolf’s accomplishment- that much would be expected from the shorter girl- but for the entity curling along the edge of her mind. What exactly she was supposed to be proud of she couldnt tell, but the feeling was pleasant regardless.

Silver Wolf slips into a chair and slides forward to the desk, cracking her knuckles and wiggling her fingers as she readies herself for some data mining.

“Crude, simple, but effective. Look, found it.” The computer’s cursor circles a line of code tauntingly. Kafka doesn’t understand what any of the values mean.

“Item number two-eleven, ‘Blind Spot’ : a simple light-deflecting field. It allows an object in its field to pass unnoticed, but if a different item ceases to be obvious, the object gets revealed.”

She isn’t sure which set of numbers.. Or letters? That item is supposed be, but it does seem like a very… uncomplicated form of security for someone like Herta.

“So, Herta the genius… hides her collection with something as simple as this?”

“the simplest method is the hardest to spot, isnt that our motto?”

“Huh? How is that simple?” Kafka nearly chokes on her saliva while trying to hold back a bark of laughter and wonders why she’d kept her guard up for this thing. She follows Silver Wolf towards the glitching hole in the wall and sighs bemusedly.

“The data suggests its just an ordinary hologram. But it has an added layer… “ Silver Wolf eyes the frayed edges of the hologram cautiously, despite the confidence in her voice.

“Lets take a look. Dont worry, this place wont be our grave.” The girl only puffs her cheeks and steps forward, ignoring Kafka’s words of comfort completely. Well, she’d expected that much at least.

As she follows behind, her vision melts into a stark change of scenery.

The bright, ethereal glow of the Stellaron coating the walls of the closed off room in a golden-blue light. A strange combination, but one that was all too familiar; the everchanging strands of reality warping and stretching around itself, as the Stellaron sat patiently- sealed away- in the center of the room. Such an otherworldly treasure was exactly what all Stellaron hunters across the universe strove for. Though admittedly it was a mere front for their true purpose, a fact that Kafka was intimately aware of.

Their true goal would see this stellaron- sealed away, courtesy of Herta- to another use. Once said seal was removed by Silver Wolf, all Kafka would need to do was take hold of it and place it inside that vessel.

It had been laying in wait for this exact occasion…Kafka smiles fondly at the memory of it. Silver Wolf makes a small noise of surprise, catching her attention. She steps over towards the girl and the control panel, asking a question without speaking.

“It has its own security system… I guess even for herta, a Stellaron is no ordinary rarity.” Silver Wolf sounds genuinely surprised at this fact, though Kafka feels this was a rather likely outcome.

“Can you get it?”

“Of course, even the genius Herta cant compete with me when it comes to hacking.”

“Good. Then I’ll also count on you for the preparation of the receptacle.” Not to mention, she was quite sure this being wouldn’t be able to provide much help if Silver Wolf couldn’t figure it out herself. Speak of the devil, she feels the entity waft away like smoke in the wind and settle in the air around them as she lifts the Stellaron from its prison. She turns to her Silver haired companion and unspoken words flicker between their eyes.

This is Kafka’s decision.

Or perhaps it isn’t, she corrects herself over the distant sound of Silver Wolf’s voice.

When it enters her body, it no longer feels like being puppeteered or controlled.

She recalls that first feeling of possession, and the bleeding darkness making way for glowing golden edges of a burnt milky way. Her mind is dipped like an apple into the thick syruppy taste of synethesia. The amber eyes of the vessel- piercing into her soul and leaving her tongue sizzling in an almost addictive sort of pain- briefly flash open before collapsing to the floor in Kafka’s arms.

The Stellaron has found its place. And something else entirely has made its home there too.

(What an amazing tutorial and intro! You get the feeling you’ll be playing this game for a very long while!)

#not super happy with how this turned out honestly but I can’t be bothered looking at it anymore #honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #(sort of?)#hsr kafka #kafka x reader #silver wolf x reader #hsr silver wolf #kafka honkai star rail #silver wolf honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #yandere hsr #my writing

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p0ssywhippedcream · 10 months

Note

hey girlypop!! glad you're better now!!!! could you pretty please write a percy jackson angst where he keeps choosing annabeth over the reader (she's his ex) and at one point he calls you pathetic and a bitch when you're arguing over her so you just run away crying?? not like a toxic relationship, just that he's in love with her while being with you! ty my love xox

baby love, I hate to break this to you but this is toxic. if you've ever been through this irl or are going through it, get the fuck out of that situation because you deserve so much better. I'm gonna change a few things cause it seems a little OOC but I will write it, just like promise me you understand that this is fictional and if somebody ever does this to you, you block them, call a friend and cry until you don't need to.

"Percy, just listen to me!"

He whirls around, his frustrated pacing bringing him close enough you can smell saltwater. "I am! It's ridiculous! You expect me to just be over her?"

"Yes!' You cry, throwing your hands down, "Because you're with me now and it's not fair that you're just now telling me that maybe you still have feelings for her!"

"I was with her for three years, y/n! You know what we went through together, she was my whole life."

Your energy is draining fast, you've been going in circles for hours now. "Perce, it's been a year. I understand that she meant a lot to you but romantically, that's over and I'm supposed to be the one you feel this way for!"

"Well how can I, y/n? You're not her." His face is flushed, eyes frantic and lips trembling with a rage that shakes the pipes of his apartment.

The air is electric, emotions bouncing around like molecules fighting for space. Like you, fighting for a space that's not yours, never yours. A space with someone else's name on it.

"And I thought that was okay." So many things want to come out of you, you want to beat on his chest with closed fists until he understands the pain beating inside yours. " I thought that I could mean to you what she did."

Percy rolls his eyes and huffs, turning his back on you as he resumes pacing. "You could never take what she means to me."

You wanted to say that's not what you were trying to do but really, how can you. You wanted to be a part of his life the way Annabeth was, you wanted to paint your name on her place and be what he needed, what keeps him going. You wanted to compare to the girl he went to hell and back for, you wanted to matter just barely a fraction what she did.

"I can never matter to you the way she does, can I?" Your voice is horse and tired and you just need one last confirmation. One last chance is handed his way, thrown into crashing waves like a prayer on a dead man's tongue.

The ocean swallows your hope, the storm is silent as the anger rages on around you. You stand in the eye, driftwood raft held together with half-baked compliments and forgotten I love yous.

"You're just not Annabeth." And it's the way he says her name that splits your makeshift boat straight in two. He says it like she carried each bucket of water from heaven and filled the sea, pouring every pinch of salt herself. She created the marine life from kisses and stars and designed them to make him happiest, she mans the lighthouse for lost sailors. She floats on a yacht in calmer waters as you go under, wondering why you left shore for an empty promise.

"Okay." You're drowning, the current much too strong. No matter how hard you fight, the sea was never going to forgive you for the sin of trusting it.

You're gone, fish food to him. You've left and you've walked and you're never going back to the apartment you loved in. He's sat down, head in his hands thinking of the one girl who survived his hurricane. He picks up the phone and she picks up on the second ring.

"Annabeth, hey."

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enterrandomname · 7 days

Text

Warriors

Ares x Child of Ares!Reader

Warning: OOC Ares(?)

A/N: I do apologize if requests are slower than usual! I have exams coming up, but further than that I hope you enjoy this! And I can’t make promises on when I’ll start on them. But you may send requests as much as you like ^^

Word Count: 1k

⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

Ares, the God of War, never had time to ‘play around’ with his children. Yes, he claims them as his own, but what would you expect from a god? Almost all the gods could care less about their children. They would be born just to fear for their lives, as disgusting creatures hunted them down like animals.

You found it strange how your father often visits you while you’re on a quest. This was an unexpected change from God. Had you finally gotten his recognition? Had he finally decided that you were worthy of his time?

“I don’t want any excuses, child!” His voice boomed through the training area.

You wouldn’t even call it a training area; all that was there were trees and a drawing of a circle that was to resemble an arena. You could see his eyes glow beneath his glasses, with flames dancing around them.

The God of War stared at you, a shiver running down your spine as you tried to steady your breathing after a grueling combat session. Blood slowly dripped down your face, a reminder of you failing to protect your face from your father's attacks. He never said he was going to go tough on you.

Ares scoffed, the air crackling with tension. “Training? You call that training?” He rolled his eyes(?), arms crossed in front of his chest, as he stood with pride. “What we did there was real training, child of mine.”

“You carry the blood of warriors, yet you fight like a novice.” He added more salt to the wound, as if that wouldn’t lower your self-esteem even lower. “Pick up your sword.”

It wasn’t an order; it was a command. He was commanding you to do it. And like the good child you are, you did what he said.

With a nod, you hastily grabbed the sword before looking back at God, who impatiently waited, tapping his leather shoe against the ground. “Can’t we do this another time?” You tried to reason with him. Your body was exhausted and needed a break from his tough training. This wasn’t like the training back at Camp Half-Blood.

“Would you rather spend your whole life being chased around by Harpies with zero experience in fighting?” He growled, making his way toward you. You could never tell what he was feeling due to those pesky sunglasses. If he was trying to get you to be afraid, well, he was doing a good job at that.

You could practically feel the ground shake with every step he took as he advanced towards you. Surely he wouldn’t dare to hurt one of his children again, right? You failed to notice how the blood had somehow disappeared, only leaving a scar on your cheek.

The flames behind his sunglasses flickered with anger. “Well?” said he, waiting for your response. The God of War never liked to wait, but it seemed like you were an exception. “No… father.” Lowering your head in despair. Had all of your hopes and dreams gone to waste? Why was it so hard to please your father? Numorous, unanswered questions clouded your mind.

You looked up in confusion once you felt a hand on your head. What was this, you thought. A smirk made its way to God’s face as he saw your bewildered look. Was this the way he shows his affection for his children? You couldn't help but smile at the God of War, feeling a little bit of pride come back to you.

“Don’t tell the others, yeah? Keep this a secret between the two of us. I’ll get you whatever you want if it keeps your mouth shut, little one.”

The flames in his eye sockets seemed to have calmed down as you watched them faintly glow.

Little one? Was your brain playing tricks on you, or was this all but a dream? Ares, God of War, giving you a nickname? You had to cherish this moment. Who knew it took this long for Ares to warm up to one of his children? Certainly, you didn't.

The god sighed before he kneeled down. He, ever so gently, placed his hand on your arm, a warm sensation spreading throughout your body. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright? Don’t go around thinking’ you can destroy whatever beast is out there,” said Ares.

Is this what it feels like to be loved by your father?

“You are still human, not a god. You’re not immortal like us.” Oh, to see the look on your siblings's faces once they find out where you've been this entire time. The perks of being the favorite, I guess!

“Why are you telling me this?" You couldn’t help but ask, staring into your father’s shades as he awkwardly rubbed your arm. His touch was… warm and fatherly, something you couldn't even describe.

He raised an eyebrow, baffled by the sudden question. “Well, squirt, despite this chaotic world we are forced to live in, I still... care for my children.” He placed his finger on your lips, silencing you from asking more questions. You silently glared at him as you thought about biting your father’s finger.

It wasn't like you were going to be rambling over how he hadn't been there for you a single time in your life!

Well, it was fun while it lasted. If only these moments could happen every once a week rather than once a month.

The God then shook his head. “We are wasting time.” Standing back up before he lifted you up from the back of your shirt. It was like you were a five-year-old all over again. You hadn't realized that your idol was a god this entire time.

“Pay attention, because I’m not going to repeat myself twice,” said Ares, confidently making his way to the opposite side of the said arena. “The first rule is to never show any weakness to your enemy. They could use that to their advantage. Now, shall we begin?”

With a simple nod, Ares smirked once again, his heart slowly beginning to warm up.

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regionalpancake · 1 year

Text

THE END OF STAR TREK:PICARD IS NIGH

reblog to draw a salt circle around Star Trek women to protect them from M’Talas

#star trek picard #picard season 3 #raffi musiker #seven of nine #very long very deep sigh #salt level: dead sea #saffi #raffi/seven #seven/raffi #raffi x seven

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we-are-so-close · 1 year

Text

You Have My Attention

Zeke x fem!reader wc: 1.7k warnings: 18+ Minors Please Do Not Interact; dubcon, fingering, choking, piv penetration, piss, face fucking, marking, facial, cum eating, degradation, please let me know if I missed something a/n: this thought has been in my brain for a hot minute now. Zeke is an ass, maybe ooc?, probably the first and only time i write for him

There were few things about being part of the warrior unit that you actually enjoyed. The unit’s captain, Zeke, was not one of them. There was an air of cockiness he surrounded himself with and you felt it was unjustified; he didn’t seem to be any better than any of the titan shifters. The others warned you about speaking your mind, even amongst friends.

“You better watch what you say,” Reiner warned.

“Yeah, shit always gets back to Zeke,” Porco added.

“Pff, what can he really do?” you waved off.

“Just…tone it down, okay?” Pieck placed a cautioned hand on your shoulder.

The rest of the group went outside to hang out until it was time for dinner. You told them you would join them soon, right after you dropped off a report to Commander Magath’s office. The halls were empty, not surprising for the early evening time. The sound of footsteps behind you grew louder. Figuring it was one of your friends, you turned around to poke fun at them for following you. Only when you turned, you found yourself staring at your captain.

“C-captain,” you sputtered out.

He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you down the hallway. He practically threw you into the nearest broom closet and shut the door behind him. The look on his face had the same smugness that you called out amongst your friends. But there was something else behind his eyes. It was something you hadn’t seen from him before.

“Who do you think you are talking about me like that? I hear what you say. You think you’re funny?”

“I…I…” your face was getting hot and your voice was betraying you.

“I, I, I,” he mocked, “what? All of a sudden you have nothing to say? You sure do love to run that mouth of yours, but I think I have a better use for it.”

Immediately, he shoved two of his fingers inside of your mouth, effectively eliminating any chance of rebuttal. He has you pushed against one of the shelves, the edge of it just supporting the curve of your ass. His fingers move across the pad of your tongue, the salt from them causing you to salivate even more.

With his other hand, he pushed one of your legs onto the shelf where you were supported. He flipped up your skirt and pulled your panties to the side. He withdrew his fingers from your mouth and shoved them into your pussy. The sudden feeling of fullness caused you to gasp, and he quickly clasped his other hand over your mouth.

“You wanted my attention so badly, well, here it is. Savor it.”

His fingers were relentless, pumping in and out of your folds, hitting every sweet spot. He added a third finger and your moans were becoming more guttural. A tingling sensation was building up in your core. His hand moved from your mouth to your throat. It was hard to make any noise when he was restricting your airway.

“C’mon, baby. You love to talk. Beg for it. Beg me to put my cock in that pussy of yours.”

“Mm,” you couldn’t get out a word, so you shook your head.

“Oh, come now. It’s quite obvious you want me. You can’t shut up about me, so here I am, giving you what you want. Just submit and take what we both know that you want.” His pace slowed. His eyes never leaving your face, watching how his ministrations affected you so.

“P-p-pl..”

“I can’t hear you.”

He ever so slightly loosened his grip on your throat and you sucked in as much air as you could. His thumb was roughly circling over your clit, the pace picking back up. It was sending electric signals all throughout your body, and your brain felt as though it might short circuit.

“Please, Zeke.”

“Please, what? C’mon, use your big girl words.”

“I-I want…your c-cock,” you managed to squeak out through strained breath.

He withdrew his fingers from your pussy and pushed them back into your mouth. He was making you suck your essence off of his fingers. You could hear him unzipping his pants and soon after, you could feel his cock press against your entrance. He forced his way in, stretching you more than three of his fingers could. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, but was swallowed up by Zeke’s mouth. He kissed you, his beard scratching against your face. It was an unpleasant feeling, but that didn’t matter; not when he was tearing up your insides.

“Fuck. Three fingers wasn’t enough. I’ll know for next time,” he said as he continued to pound into your pussy.

"N-next time?"

He ripped open your shirt and took one of your breasts into his mouth. He was rough, sucking hard and biting the area around your nipples. He made his way up to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. There, he made short work of leaving his mark behind. Every nip, every thrust, it was all overwhelming. Before you knew what was happening, the feeling in your core exploded. You had reached your climax, which was a mistake. Your pussy pulsated around Zeke’s cock, and he took notice.

“Who gave you permission to come on my cock?” He scolded. He stilled, the only noise was his grunts. A warmth soon filled your insides. A golden liquid trickled down your leg and began to pool underneath you. Zeke’s piss stretched your pussy to the hilt, the pressure began to burn.

“Until you can learn to wait and behave, your greedy cunt doesn’t deserve anything but my piss,” he growled as he pulled out. The pressure inside of you was relieved as Zeke’s golden essence gushed from you, spilling all over your legs and feet, your shoes and skirt soaked. Zeke made it a point to spray the last few streams all over the outside of your pussy, making it very clear that he’s leaving his mark. Your eyes were glazed over as you watched the man you called “captain” treat you like this.

He forced you down onto your knees into the puddle of piss. With your chin held within his grasp, he forced your mouth open. “Clean it,” he demanded as he shoved his cock into your mouth. With his hand on the back of your head, he set the pace for which he wanted you to go. The lewd sounds you made everytime his dick hit the back of your throat only egged him on to go harder and faster. You put your hands on his thighs as a way to brace yourself for the impossible pace he had set.

“This is a much better use for that mouth of yours, I think,” he said as he thrust one last time. Your nose was shoved into the base of his dick and his pubic hairs added to your suffocation. He stilled there for only a moment, but it felt like an eternity, all means of air were cut off and your consciousness was on the cusp of fading.

Right as your eyes began to roll back, he pulled his cock out, strands of spit followed. He reveled in your strained gasps as you tried to get in as much air as you could.

He grabbed your chin once more and forced you to look up at him. He was stoking himself almost as fast as he was fucking your face.

"Fuck, I can't wait to ruin you."

Three more strokes and he was spurting his hot, thick cum all over your face. He looked down at you and admired his handy work.

"Open," he commanded. You did as you were told, and he used his thumb to smear and push every last bit of his release into your mouth. He wiped his thumb on your tongue and forced your mouth closed.

"You know, I could almost forgive you for being a brat, but I don't know if you've really learned your lesson." A glossiness had covered his eyes, but you knew that he had already determined when this was going to happen again.

"Clean this mess up before you take that report to Commander Magath," he said as he straightened out his jacket and set the paperwork on one of the shelves above you. "And then clean yourself up. Or don't. Let your friends and comrades see you for the little slut you really are."

He held onto the handle of the closet door before he glanced over his shoulder to look at you one last time before leaving. "If that report isn't in Commander Magath's hands before the dinner bell rings, you can expect to be punished."

The soft click of the door snapped you back to the meaning behind Zeke’s words. He was now going to take any chance he could get to punish you, to get you alone in the closet again. Quickly, you got up and grabbed the mop and the bucket of water and cleaned the spot on the ground. You raced down the hallway back to your room to change into some clean clothes since every article of clothing you were in was completely ruined thanks to Zeke.

The time was getting close, you knew that it had to be. The commander’s door was open, but there didn’t appear to be anyone inside. You knocked on the door frame and called out for anyone. No response. Outside, the harsh sound of the dinner bell began to chime. Hastily, you placed the report right in the middle of the commander’s desk and made your way to the dining hall. Zeke was standing outside of the hall, his arms folded and his back resting against the wall.

“I thought I told you to get that report to the commander before the dinner bell rang.” His eyes pierced into you, a sharp heat rising within you.

“I placed it on his desk before I came down here,” you replied back, no bite in your tone.

“Let me rephrase; I told you to have that report in his hands by the dinner bell. But it’s not surprising that you couldn’t even follow that simple command.”

“I-” you truly didn’t know what to say, you realized that there wasn’t anything you could do; you were under Zeke’s control from this point forward.

“I think you’ll be eating next to me tonight,” he smirked, because you knew that he was going to show you just how cocky he can really be.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke smut #attack on titan #aot smut #please read the warnings!#piss tw #degradation tw #choking tw #dubcon tw #face fucking tw #if i missed something please let me know

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justmypartner · 1 year

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As promised, I typed out some PD Theories I have. Find them below the cut

Hi👋🏼 Welcome to an explanation of the pd theories circling around in my noggin! Forewarning that the first one is just a theory and there is nothing substantive to back it up other than a hopeful attitude. It isn’t meant to spread misinformation or be speculative about Jesse’s exit. Also, just know I totally felt like this gif of Violet as I typed it out.

1. Jay’s Exit?

Since August 29, 2022, a thought has lived deep in the dark depths of my brain. Something between the “suddenness” of Jesse’s exit, the randomness of it being 3 episodes in, and the silence following the news have all kept my brows raised. Some small conspiracy theorist in me wondered, what if this is some long-plotted con from the writers room? What if this exit is temporary and that was the plan all along? As the season went on and more things came out about Jesse’s exit (though still nothing as transparent as others’ exits), that very hopeful thought got pushed aside. That was until Hailey’s line about not being able to reach him. Now, I realize there are two very reasonable explanations for that: (1) Jay’s new job really does make him hard to reach/unreachable, or (2) Hailey was lying to Sean. Still, I couldn’t get over how lazy the writing was because even if either of those options are true, why didn’t they explain it/ why did they go that route when having her throw out a line about talking to him or showing a message on her phone from him would’ve been just as easy/made more sense? That’s when that thought came back. What if all of these bizarre/vague/ooc lines are actually setting something up? What if his “exit” was supposed to be temporary this whole time? There’s also the fact that he’s directing an episode/still been on set, but I won’t get into that. I can’t genuinely say that I think this is anything as big as it sounds, but a big part of me does think Jay is coming back. I’m thinking for the 200th. But who knows, maybe that little conspiracy nut in my head is right, maybe he’ll be back for more. Idk what/why/how but finding some way to believe there is some deeper or reasonable meaning for the way they’ve written Jay’s exit/his character after makes all of it easier (to try) to accept. Again, take all of this with less than a grain of salt, but it is a nice possibility to hold onto. Even if it’s deep in the dark depths of your mind.

2. Chief O’Neal

This one isn’t as crazy. In fact, it’s actually pretty likely. For starters, I’ve been a little sus of him from the start. It started with the fact that you can just assume any chief on this show can’t be trusted. Then, the whole business with Sean was revealed, and I was convinced he was in on it. That theory started to fade after his reaction to Voight telling him they were investigating Sean for trafficking. They did have me for a minute until I realized it is the perfect fake out. What really convinced me was the girl’s comment from last week’s episode about having the scars/cuts on her feet since she was younger. I immediately messaged a friend and said something along the lines of “THE CHIEF DID IT.” I think he started the business and roped Sean into it. I think they’re both in it together, and this is all gonna end with the team catching (or killing?) Sean, thinking it’s all over, then finding out the hard way the chief has been playing them all along. We also can’t dismiss his creepy ass mustache. That alone is a dead give away that something is OFF.

#chicago pd #chicago pd theories #chicago pd spoilers… ish?

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consequencesofargentdawn · 7 months

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The Northern lot confuse me not only because they basically RP Game of Thrones - the community is filled with OOC drama and constant infighting. Up until recently they were either sub groups of the PCU or DiCU and conformed to either for their RP. If they come together it could be a bad thing. At least when they were aligned with different spheres they only bothered each other

These players wrap up their own barely disguised fetishes and prejudices as "roleplay" and have done for years on end. These are the sorts who routinely tout absurdly racialized caricatures of ethnic minorities in their RP with no grounding of such in any Warcraft lore. These are the sorts who think women in Azeroth are treated like women of the Middle Ages in Europe, without any backing in the lore.

They want a gritty, low-fantasy sandbox for their bigoted world view, an idealized and lionized past that never existed that they are too socially inept to even attempt to gain through real world LARP (besides the fact they would also be beaten up and tossed out by any LARPer worth their salt from their circles). They are regressively minded, reactionary zealots one degree separate to the PCU cult (and arguably cut from the same cloth considering both engage in the grooming of minors and have a strange fixation with animal anatomy) who think that in their idealized world if they could somehow bring it back they would be the powerful lords with their harems. Not realizing that these inceloids who have been socially maladjusted by unrealistic male power fantasies they completely miss the actual messages in fantasy writings such as A Song of Ice and Fire, The Witcher, The Wheel of Time and more.

These opioid addled bigots fail to realize that they would be the ones under the boot in their idealized world.

#confessions of argent dawn #NCU #bigotry #alt right #incels #harassment #hypcrisy #erp

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adoranoia · 11 months

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bonus hcs? bonus hcs! nothing too important, hence why they aren’t gonna get their own posts, but. here, anyway!

1. okay, but a small worldbuild-y related hc i have is, the dark world titles for things such as their royalty, knights, etc etc, are different then what they were in the light world! i generally use the normal terms™ in hcs and ooc posts, just for sake of not confusing tf outta ppl, but i did wanna at least list some of the differences just bc i think it’s neat!

* duke/duchess = dusk! * princess/prince = twilight! * majesty/king/queen = midnight!

* knights = hypernova (or ‘novas‘)! * page = protostar (or ‘protos‘)! * royal advisor = aurora! * squire = pulsar!

* the knight’s guild is called a ‘constellation’ * the royal court is called a ‘solar system’, * instead of kingdom(s), it’s a ‘cosmos‘

* the dark world = the eventides, (also: ‘the dark world’ + ‘the underworld’, sometimes!) * the light world = the meridies, (also: ‘the light world’ + ‘the overworld’, sometimes!)

for example, ralsei would be referred to as ‘your twilight‘ or the ‘twilight of hearts‘, or if you just wanted to be really extra, it’d be ‘the twilight of hearts and the cosmos of hope‘. (but, that last one def isn’t used in normal/casual conversation tho, so dw, asdfghjkl) or, post-game, going off my hc rals ends up becoming lancer’s royal adviser, he’d be referred 2 as ‘the royal aurora’, or ‘the spades aurora’.

for another more modern example tho, once lancer becomes king, he would generally be called, ‘the midnight of spades‘, or ‘the midnight of the spades cosmos‘! they lost the ‘the cosmos of hope‘ part, due to that part of their history being erased by the knight those many years ago. it’s instead been replaced with the title of their suit.

2. your random world-buildy hc of the day is once upon a time, before their connection was severed, lightners were capable of summoning darkners, often to trade goods, or strike some of deal. there was a more general summoning ritual, and. then there was a more personal one that varied from darkner to darkner, if you wanted 2 talk to s/b in particular, y'know?

along w/ that, you could ‘call’ a darkner so 2 speak through a mirror, by drawing a symbol specific to them on it’s surface. the symbol itself was usually given by the darkner after some sort of trust has formed– think of it as just. a really weird phone number, basically! lmao………..

but, like i said, post-knight’s attack, this isn’t practiced anymore, modern darkners having no real memories of the old kingdom in general, and modern lightners don’t even know the dark exists.

so, the only one who remembers it is ralsei (assumingly), the forgotten prince who can never forget and all that, and. listen, he’s so not above teaching kris + susie how 2 summon him/ call him, so they can hang out/talk even if they can’t visit!

is he gonna come to regret it? probs a little, but only in a lighthearted way, he just cares his friends, ok! 🥺 also, bonus, if you’re wondering:

[to full-on summon ralsei/his specific ritual involves–] >a summoning circle drawn in either pink chalk, or normal salt, tbh >candles of some kind, preferably red or darkly colored in general >a cake knife + a ‘sacrifice’ in form of a soft toy, sorry mr plushie </3 >extra things like flowers, or candy can be added as well, as extra insurance it will work/reach him, bc there is a chance of failure, rip

and, his call symbol is rune-esque, the main shape/design being a heart and skull jumbled together, along with some small flourishes.

3. this is 100% just 4 fun and not for anything important, but i wanted to talk abt ralsei’s garden a little bc its s/t hes v proud of, and gardening/floriography is something he’s v knowing of, so. in particular, i wanted 2 talk about the type of flora he actually grows/takes care of! because idk i thought it’d be inte -resting, so here we go, we going on an garden adventure today bois…

so, they’re generally on the spooky side, either poisonous, or are ‘dangerous’ in some way, or just looks/smells/acts kinda weird. y’kno, like venus fly traps, pitchers, plants that naturally smell like death and rotten meat, that look like they’re seeping blood, with thorns and teeth, and moving eyes. such as, the!–

* white baneberry (doll’s eyes), venus flytrap/pitcher plant, sanguinaria (blood root), voodoo lily/corpse lily, deadly nightshade, water hemlock/poison hemlock, * hydnellum peckii (bleeding hydnellum), monotropa uniflora (ghost plant), solanum atropurpureum (purple devil), giant hogweeds (aconitum), * aconitum (wolfsbane), sarcodes (snowplant), etc etc!

but, he does grow some more ‘normal’ plants too, mostly herbs/ spices for cooking, potions/magic stuffs, sometimes both, etc etc (if baking magic isn’t a thing he’s officially making it a thing!) but, tl;dr, stuff like sage, rosemary, basil, etc etc, that sorta stuff!

along w/ that he does grow some things like red roses! which are a particular favorite of his. (but, well. he likes the thorns, not the flowers themselves, so he tends to snip the flowery bits off, using them for s/t else like tea or baking. so i guess really, rose thorns are his favorite.) other more ‘normal’ favorites of his are forget-me-nots, and lilacs.

and ofc he does also? grow some fictional weird dark world plants. i don’t particularly have any names for any specific ones, but. you know, plants that glow and changes colors, plants that can sing and whistle, etc etc. it’s how u say… an aesthetic™!

4. ralsei’s native tongue was something spoken those thousand years ago, something that is now considered a dead language, and, is basically a darkner equivalent to the light world’s latin!

they called it ’umbatnra’, it sounded like a mix between a germanic language, and a romance language, an audible contradiction, if u will! hard k’s and ch’s, ‘harsher’ sounds from the back of the throat, but @ the same time, rolled r’s, softer vowels, an almost musical sound to its pronunciation, too. other then ralsei, there’s no longer any native speakers of the language, simply lost to time like a lot of early darkner history, which was, ofc, the knight’s doing.

while in canon, the language is it’s own fleshed out thing, with its own alphabet and grammar if/when ralsei speaks in umbatnra on this blog, the way i’ll write it is by using words and phrases from latin (and a few other languages), but anagram-ed, just for simplicity’s sake, ok, lmao

so, for example, the phrase ’i wish to one day go visit and see the vatican city!‘ in latin would be something like : ’mihi libet olim civitatem vaticanam visere!’ and, in umbatnra that would be: ’bil elohim timi camencirta stimaetive viva!’, etc etc.

5. a cute little hc: ralsei tends to call everyone general pet names, ‘dear, darling, sweetheart’, etc etc. but there’s a few he only uses with his partners or crushes, the main one being ‘(my) dearest’.

6. thinkin abt moony's titles/different names again, bc i remembered the other ones finally, changed a few, so uhhh. updated list + the reasons!

>'the twilight of hearts and the cosmos of hope' aka his full royal title >'the witness of dernow-elthds' being in reference to the attack, and him being the sole survivor of the royal family, etc etc, and all that stuff. >'the siren of the scarlet forest' bc pre-gang showing up, ppl thought the world behind the great doors laid empty, but sometimes: they'd hear s/b singing. >'elrallor' which is his "true name", basically, it's used for mostly summoning purposes, and basically means "prince of the under -world/protector of the dead" when translated from umbatnra. >'the mourning star' the legends sometimes refer to him as this, the knight commonly uses this name for him, it’s meant to sound like 'morning star'.

7. do yall want a silly funfact abt ralsei? -- he doesn’t full-on laugh a lot, because he’s actually embarrassed of his laugh, so he tends to stick to just giggles and stuff. what’s his legit laugh sound like, though? well.

#* && OOC #* && RALSEI /// AND A PRINCE FROM THE DARK .#long post tw

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rozcdust · 2 years

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Waste it on me

Pairing: Takeomi Akashi x f!reader

Genre: Crack, SMAU

Word count: 500ish

Warnings: Canon divergent, profanity, ooc, sugar daddy/ sugar baby relationship, age gap (both are consenting adults), suggestive, mentions of drug abuse

pt. 1 | previous | pt. 19 | next|playlist

ִֶָ࣪ ° .* ʚ♡ɞ *. °ִֶָ ࣪

Takeomi woke up, panicked, a little past 4 a.m., the lack of a body pressing against his disturbing him, and when his hands start frantically searching for you, gripping at cold sheets and comforter, his fingers brush against the small of your back, just barely out of arms reach.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

He pulled you towards him, carefully, slowly, as to not awaken you, he knew all too well how exhausted you were as of late, spending most nights either studying or in a restless frenzy, and he wrapped his arm around your waist as your back hit his chest, inhaling deeply.

He only then noticed how tense you were, your breathing uneven and just a tad frantic, and as he stilled to be able to feel the beat of your heart, it was arrhythmic, frantic, stains of tears dried a while ago still on your cheeks.

He frowned, pressing you even closer to himself, molding his body to fit your own, burying his face into the nape of your neck.

Your nails dug into his forearm.

He didn’t mind.

It was almost a routine at this point, him waking up at odd hours whenever you slept over, to be met with you either having a nightmare, silent sobs falling off your lips or shudders racking your body, or to find you awake, sitting with your back against the headboard, a cigarette in one hand as the other one is intertwined with Takeomi’s, your thumb gently rubbing circles into his palm, touches soft and slow, the neon lights of billboards and Tokyo rushing by illuminating your face.

He pretends to be asleep on those nights, but on nights like these, when there is a crease between your eyebrows and your lip is shaking, he lets you dream, even if he knows it’s restless, even if he knows you’ll wake up with the inside of your cheek chewed up, exhausted.

You tried to hide it, but he saw every secret you left unspoken in those pitiful eyes, every lie you ever told and every promise you gave, never meant to be kept.

He wished he could trade all of his good days for your bad ones, wished he could replace the salt and brass on your tongue with something softer, something more vulnerable, something other than the bittersweet taste of lead and ashes of all too honest apology letters.

He didn’t know of your mistakes, he didn’t know why you trembled when you slept, as if an ache too deep settled within your bone marrow, growing roots and thorns until you were consumed.

But he knew regret when he saw it.

He wished he could take it away from you.

But he’d never voice it.

You weren’t his to keep.

Your relationship was built upon an agreement, a business deal of sorts, and love wasn’t a part of the deal.

But you made it so difficult.

He never voiced that the soft sounds of your breathing and the way you kissed him softly reminded him why was he given a heart to begin with, and in return, you never voiced the questions you pondered in those early hours of the morning, when you thought he was asleep, your thumb tracing over his palm softly.

He closed his eyes, breathing in your scent.

You were right next to him.

How dare he ask for more?

🔖Taglist (closed):

@1818cigarettes @babu-haitani @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @lagrimasdeglitter @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @emilywaters @dinve @levistiddies @bxnten @spookykoko @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @gigibobigi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @kennyb0y @chaoticyuna @haitanihime@adeptiixiao @denkis-slut @wakasagurl @dontfollowmelol @yukimaniac @marrymemanjiro @bajitorasprincess @somniari-94 @haikyuu-simps-assemble @gulfkfl @the-invincible-mikey @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @snowyseungs @sanzuswh0re @itsyournumber1whore @lem0nsquizy (second taglist in the comments! please let me know if i forgot to tag you 💕)

a/n: I PROMISE WE’RE GOING TO OUR SCHEDULED CRACK SOON MY DUDES 😩 more senju and y/n are next and some jelly omi 🤩 also istg i’ll have to come up with an updating schedule soon 🥲 ALSO i finally got an appointment with a psychiatrist, i hope it goes well 💕💕

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #takeomi x y/n #takeomi x reader #bonten #takeomi akashi #mitsuya takashi #hakkai shiba #taiju shiba

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bloodsalted · 17 days

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// sooooo excited!!!! woohoo!!!

#here we are!!#ooc; beetlejuice 2024 #ooc; one from the salt circle

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luckyduckydoo · 2 years

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saltwater tears - three ♛

18+ MINORS DNI

I do not give permission for my stories to be resposted on other platforms or translated in other languages. If you see my story anywhere, please be sure to contact me.

pairings: king!steve x female oc, wanda x nat, mentions of peggy x steve

warnings: angst, vague description of a panic attack, temporary abusive tendencies, mentions of sickness, vague descriptions of vomiting, ooc!steve, a questionable wrist grab, disrespectful words from steve, a flashback, kissing, fluff, passive aggressive marital conversation

previous - next

word count: 5.8K

please read the warnings carefully for this one. you are responsible for the media you consume

all mistakes are my own!

↢

Court erupted into immense chaos upon the three women’s arrival. Many courtiers were in hoards, sobbing hysterically and whispering petrified speculations.

Queen May was sound the previous night.

She was lively, cheerful. The brightest star in the room, setting the crowd ablaze with her dignified spirit and unconditional love for Peter.

Lilli feared what could have transpired between nightfall and dawn. She also feared Peter and his feelings upon discovering his guardian’s untimely demise.

Despite his generally anxious demeanor, he shined in the presence of his aunt. Beaming grin, glittering eyes. He looked to her with pure adoration.

She worried what this would do to him.

A few courtiers circled a spot in the foyer, a few inches from the east wing’s entrance.

Lilli craned her neck and hiked herself on her toes, squinting as she surged forward.

Natasha and Wanda stayed behind, the handmaiden muttering to herself in Sokovian again as she whimpered and listened to Natasha’s delicate reassurances.

They soon scrambled from the scene to collect themselves.

One of the courtiers, a woman with coiled hair and dark eyes, spotted Lilli from the circle.

She ducked her head and mumbled something to the rest. They turned and quickly scattered, hushed whispers resounding in the air as she stepped closer.

The sight was strange. In place of what she expected to be Queen May’s lifeless body was a pile of salt. She hadn’t seen that much salt since the fishing crisis in Reshpar.

They didn’t have nearly half of what scattered the floor presently.

Appearing crestfallen, Lilli reached out to touch the pile. It was coarse and thick under her fingertips, seemingly fresh and chilling her bones.

“What is this?” She looked up and eyed the anxious group. “Where’s Queen May?”

“That is Queen May, Your Majesty.” A male courtier murmured, his gangly form visibly quivering as he averted his gaze from the mess on the floor.

Lilli blinked owlishly. Her dark eyes flickered from the salt to the shaking courtier, squinting and stuttering at the answer.

“That’s impossible—”

“He’s right, my Queen.” The coiled-haired woman piped up. “After the handmaid discovered her body, we tried to move her to a better location. But she started withering, dissipating to salt between our fingers.”

The woman was forlorn by the time she finished, going to stand beside her shaking companion.

Soon, the silent courtiers burst into a fit of questions. The mystery behind Queen May’s death, the disappearance of her body, what it would mean for the kingdom.

It was a symphony of chaos, unyielding and echoing against the stone walls. It reverberated to her head, the echo swelling to an aching, deafening climax.

Lilli furrowed her brows, chest tightening as a wave of panic settled over her. She inched back as they entrapped her, bombarding her with their concerns.

Is this magic?

Is it poison?

Do you think someone did this on purpose?

Will it happen to one of us?

The list only lengthened, and that dark headspace became easier to crawl into as a high-pitched ringing resounded in her ears.

There were few times in her life where she felt helpless.

Her entire childhood contained a sense of unintentional helplessness, more so because she was young, and her parents sheltered her from a great deal.

As a teen, when her mother threw her into the life of a courtier. There was no way to get home. She was stuck, frozen amid an amorous uprising in a foreign land.

Her and Steve’s wedding night. The undeniable fear that crashed and pulled at her nerves as she realized there was no going back from it. Marriage was eternal in Eushire, and her parents ensured they respected such traditions.

And now as the courtiers sought her for a response, she couldn’t give them anything. They were helpless, confused, afraid.

And she liked to deny that she was, too.

But the quickness of her breath indicated otherwise.

Lilli had not recalled her back hitting the wall nor the courtiers swarming her as she hiccupped and rasped for air. Her chest grew tighter, heavier, and difficult to manage.

The crushing weight sent her into a fit of gasping sobs, hands at her chest and gaze fixed on the cracks in the stone ground.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the silence of the thump sending her further into panic as the courtiers continued their persistent questioning.

The world was crumbling at her feet, and she couldn’t help but accept crumbling with it.

“What the hell is going on?”

Steve’s booming voice resounded throughout the halls. The courtiers fell silent as his presence sent a tangible wave of tension to circulate the area, eyes fixated on the king as he looks towards Lilli.

One of the courtiers began to speak but Steve lifted a hand, taking a cautious step towards her as the courtiers dispersed from their suffocating circle.

She was frozen, tear-filled eyes blinking owlishly as her chest heaved. Her fingers gripped at her nightgown’s low collar, the voices echoing even through the newfound silence of reality.

She had never been in this state longer than a few minutes. And yet, it seemed to trudge on for a lifetime.

In that moment, it was merely her and the walls building up until she was alone. Isolated and suffocating in her own despair.

A flood of panicked waves enveloped her, pushing her further under the dark depths of the ocean. Thoughts drowning her until she hit the bottom, weighted and helpless. She couldn’t get out, couldn’t help herself.

It took Steve numerous calls of her name for her to meet his gaze, a troubling sense of yearning in the depths of blue.

Lilli was unsure what reflected in hers, but his expression indicated many unpleasantries in their empty flicker.

“Lilli? What’s happened?”

His voice was distant, as if speaking underwater. It was silly, nearly causing her to break into a fit of unbecoming giggles.

He had such an irreparable fear of water and yet, his voice was plummeting into the deep.

She attempted to watch as he turned to the courtiers, the quickness of their mouth movements sending her further into the suffocating headspace.

Their flinching and flickering eyes made her glance at Steve, blurry vision sharpening as she noted the powerful glare he lent the group.

Seeing him publicly angry was a rarity. Frustrated, sure.

But never angry.

He always feared resembling his grandfather. But the sheer respect the courtiers had for Steve made his anger that more frightening than anything his grandfather could have done.

His shouting was evident in the tight pull of his lips as he spoke, neck veins prominent beneath his embellished vest collar.

Lilli was unaware that they were walking until Steve nudged the small of her back, stumbling with her down the halls.

The candles illuminated the drafty space in an amber glow, although it was still a struggle to adjust to the darkness. The silence would have been unbearable had it not been for her heavy breathing.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a head of messy curls and pouty lips nestled in a dark space. She figured it was her mind deceiving her after such an intense attack, though she wasn’t one for hallucinations.

It took much momentum for her to break their silence, a slow exhale escaping before she tumbled over her words nervously.

“You didn’t have to do that."

Her voice was raspy and husky, sore from the gasping. He didn’t respond initially, snaking a hand to settle at her waist as he ushered her around a corner and towards a brightly illuminated area of the castle.

It was the back entrance to their chambers. Much of the staff traversed there, rarely the two of them anymore. The last time they wandered back there, one of the handmaids caught them being handsy in one of the darkened corners.

“Their questions were nonsense,” Steve started with a grunt. “That kind of speculation isn’t beneficial, particularly with incidents like this.”

Lilli glanced up at him, frowning as she turned the mental gears to understand his dismal demeanor. Bucky was usually the monotonous one, words always dripping with sardonic humor and a will to be left alone.

But never Steve.

“I mean…you didn’t have to help me.” She turned forward, fingers gripping at his vest until the fabric wrinkled under her touch. “I’ve gotten out of them before.”

He stopped for a moment, bringing her to a clumsy halt. “What kind of husband would I be letting you suffer on your own?”

His tone was harsh, as if she had touched a sore point. She parted her lips to speak, but he was too quick.

“I mean, truly. You think that little of me, Lilli?”

Lilli’s shoulders slumped at his accusation, deconstructing their brief interaction to pinpoint the exact moment the bomb dropped.

“No,” She choked out, maneuvering from his grip to face him fully. “I’d never do that, you know that.”

As she reached out to touch his face, he wrapped a hand around her wrist. It was firm, but not painful. Regardless, it had her muttering a few curses.

“Do I?” Steve moved to lean in, blue eyes darkening as he stared her down. Lilli instinctively craned her neck back, pouty lips pulled in anxiously.

“What?” she sputtered, attempting to wrench her wrist from his grip. But his other arm circled around her waist, fingers splaying out against her side. It didn’t stop her from struggling.

His voice echoed as he yanked her against his chest, breath fanning out against her face as he mumbled in his deep baritone, “It’s been ten years, and I still have to be sure. That’s a bit pitiful, doll.”

“What’re you talking about?” Lilli gawked, nearly huffing out a strangled whimper. Her mindset’s fragility was too much for her. And his mood shift hardly made the situation easier.

“It wasn’t supposed to be you,” he whispered, the hint of a smirk playing at his plump lips. “But you know that, don’t you?”

The syllables bounced off the walls in quick succession, ringing in her ears and pounding against her skull. It was raucous, the unpleasant buzzing causing her to glance around the space with much alarm.

He was overwhelming her, encasing her in the safety net that was him and tarnishing it.

Lilli used her strength to turn and pull from him, huffing breathlessly as she used his chest as leverage to break from him entirely. She started backing away, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you say that?”

She distanced herself from him further, moist palms rubbing along her ruined nightgown.

Damp and sand-ridden, saltwater tears staining the thin fabric. Goosebumps riddled her russet skin, regardless of the warmth entrapping the halls.

Steve was blinking, appearing standoffish as he glowered at her. Then, his shoulders slumped as he sulked and stared. “I…”

He passed a hand over his face, smoothing along his beard as he kept their gaze locked.

His brows furrowed as he moved towards her, but she took a haphazard step back. She could see the pain in his grief-stricken gaze, and it bewildered her.

He let out a sigh before concluding, “I…believe I’m exhausted. This day hasn’t exactly been easy.”

She visibly tensed; lips pulled into a hard line. It took much strength not to consider berating him. That tiny voice in the back of her head reminded her that he was in mourning. But deep down, she knew better.

“Exhausted,” she scoffed quietly, inhaling. “Maybe you should rest then, my king.”

Lilli was stiff, tone rampant with acid. His eyes widened, a mix of uncertainty and hurt swimming in their depths. Quickly, Steve’s gloom shifted to anger, a hollow and distant sort of fury.

“I’ll be in my office.”

As he stalked in the opposite direction, she watched him a through tear-stained lens. Wiping at the fallen tears, she shuffled towards the light as she found solace in the comfort of their chambers.

All that could be heard throughout in those halls was dissipated memories of sickly-sweet love and drunken giggles before a sinister chortle bellowed over the rhythmic sound, sweeping the candles’ warmth from the walls with a flourish.

The Kingsguard lined the walls in a flitter of golden armor and freshly shined weaponry, constantly at a standstill and awaiting madness.

But the only madness they had witnessed was the young prince and his hoard of rambunctious companions.

A tall boy of thirteen, clear blue eyes dancing with mischief as his hands found ways to prod and poke at the mess of brown atop his head. A headstrong girl of eleven with glimmering dark eyes and a charming smile.

And then there was the prince.

A gangly, golden-haired child prone to nervousness all his twelve years. His blue eyes constantly bulged out of his pale face, stormy concern never receding from his features.

Despite his shyness, his companions caused much chaos. Flirting with the guards, fencing in the halls, knocking historical paintings from the decorative walls.

But then many summers traveled. Political intrigue replaced flirtations, passion for the country shaped a sarcastic warrior, and the gentle prince found strength within himself and his accomplishments.

And a newcomer shook the foundation between two potential lovers.

The raven-haired girl from Reshpar. Fluttering lashes hiding the fear within her cognac eyes, lips pulled between her teeth. Her nervousness traveled with her in those first few weeks.

The Kingsguard assigned to her door could hear the soft sobs coming from her chambers at night, at the crux of when the moon was its highest.

But then…she became another companion to cause ruckus with for the prince.

Now that he was older, there was more he could get away with.

“Where are we going, Steve?” She questioned, grunting as he tugged her down the hall. “My parents will be looking for me soon.”

He merely turned and put a finger to his lips, disregarding her concerns as his long legs carried them further to their destination. He wore a determined grin as he turned a corner swiftly, expelling a throaty laugh as he heard her surprised squeal.

“You worry too much, Lilli of Reshpar.”

Hearing him say her name brought a warm smile to her face, eyes falling to their connected hands as warmth crept to her cheeks. She hated the formality of such a title, but the playfulness he added was more than enough for her to appreciate it.

“And you don’t worry enough, Steven of Breukelen.”

Her voice was delicate and sweet, breaking into a fit of giggles as his arm visibly erupted in goosebumps.

It seemed to go on forever, his incessant pulling and instructing. Lilli had decided he was terrible at such devices when he nearly killed them during a carriage ride.

But she could admit it was worth it seeing the sheepish smile on his rosy, handsome face.

She squeaked as he covered her eyes, chest pressed against her back. A breath caught in her throat at the contact, slender fingers stumbling over his to prod them from her face.

“Stop that, I’m trying to show you something.”

She could hear the pout in his voice. Although it was cute, she was quick to disregard it for her sake.

“I don’t like having one of my most primary senses revoked by a troublemaker.”

Steve chuckled, the movement lightly jostling her. He leaned forward, lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he murmured, “You like that I’m such trouble. It won’t be the same once I’m king.”

Lilli shivered against him, a tiny smile on her lips. “I won’t be here when you’re king, Your Majesty.”

He didn’t respond, then. Instead, there was a great deal of shuffling against carpet and steering her until he came to a halt.

As he murmured to keep her eyes closed, hands leaving her face to push open a door. It swung back against the stone walls, echoing in her ears.

A drafty wind caused her to push herself back against him, reveling in his warmth. But his hands settled on her shoulders as he guided her down the steps.

They were hard and slippery under her feet. Stone. She put her trust in him in this moment, but she was considering rescinding it.

A quiet dripping reverberated throughout the mysterious space as they carefully descended the steps, his hands disappearing from her quivering form to push open another door.

The crash of waves had her opening her eyes, letting out a soft gasp as she took in the sight before her.

A blooming glow settled over the clear waters, the deep sunset enrapturing her in its subtle sparkle over the deep azure ocean. The sea foam washed ashore, inviting her to feel and revel in the waves.

Lilli hurried from the safety of the space’s overhead to sprint out towards the water. But the sand caught her, slowing her excited trek. She turned back to stare at him, brown eyes watering as the sunset casted a glow over her form.

“This can’t be real. How…?”

Steve shuffled towards her, visibly grimacing as he made his way through the suffocating sand.

Regardless, he spoke with a smoothness that soothed her soul. “I noticed the long trek you took to get down here. And…I asked my father about the hidey hole in my chambers. It doesn’t lead anywhere, and so…I asked for an expansion.

She blinked away her tears, using the heel of her hand to wipe the strays. “But…I would be disturbing you.”

He came closer, cupping her face between his rough palms. “That hardly matters, doll.”

Lilli leaned into his warm touch, closing her eyes and sighing. “Matters to me. I’ll be leaving soon. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I didn’t have to,” he repeated. “But I wanted to. Making you happy is…important to me, your highness. Even if you believe we will parts ways indefinitely, I wish to make these moments count. It’s a bit too late to turn down my surprise anyhow, given it is completely constructed.”

She laughed softly, gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips. He followed her gaze, the hint of a smile matching hers.

“Please say you’ll use it,” he requested softly, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’d love to see you, your high—”

Her lips pressed against his quickly, fingers grasping onto his tunic. He froze a bit, unsure of what to do until he relaxed and brought her face closer.

The kiss was innocent, youthful and alive between them. He was holding back, though. She could feel it in the way his fingertips danced along the back of her neck and into her dark hair, ghosting a possessive grip.

Lilli exhaled into his mouth, some sort of relief washing over her as they parted their lips for one another.

It seemed to last a lifetime. The sunset shone behind them as the water rippled, creating a picturesque image of eternal happiness. This was where she wanted to be. No concerns of parents or annoying titles. Just a seashore and a lovesick blond.

“Always so formal,” she hummed breathlessly as their lips parted.

Steve ‘s smile widened, brushing the tip of his nose against hers as he murmured, “Makes me seem less like trouble, yeah?”

Lilli shook her head. “Not at all. Much more trouble, really.”

He let out a loud bellow, throwing his head back as his shoulders shook.

She admired him in this instance of pure joy. Blond hair a mess over his head, plump lips parted as he laughed, cheeks rosy and face relaxed. The cluster of freckles settled on the bridge of his nose and spreading across his cheeks. He was content, happy.

She wanted to be that for him. Be his source of contentment and peace. His light when the world grew too dark, his anchor when he drowned under the weight of his name.

Lilli wanted him, even if there was a possibility that she couldn’t have him.

Her thoughts had overtaken her to the point where she hadn’t noticed the gaze he fixed on her.

The pure adoration glimmering in the depths of his blue, as if he were seeing his true purpose for the first time.

Eldest daughter of a powerful family, the expectations of the world on her shoulders. But that wasn’t all she was.

Steve could see her. The young girl that loved games and his terrible riding skills. The one that cried over paintings and an ocean song. A woman seeking peace from the hefty punishment that was nobility.

He wanted to be her calm amidst the chaos. The vibrant painting she found such melancholic identities in.

The ocean song that played its symphony on a constant loop for her to listen. He would bend himself backwards to be her ocean song.

The words spilled from his smiling lips before he could catch up as he declared, “I’m going to marry you one day, Lilli of Reshpar.”

He was exact in his response, the confidence rolling off him in waves and turning to butterflies of insecurities and fears as they traveled to her.

But she merely brushed them aside, putting on a show that she had perfected since childhood as she murmured:

“I’d love to see you try, Your Majesty.”

The days succeeding Queen May’s death were warped in intrigue and grief.

Upon learning about his aunt’s death, Peter stayed in the west wing. It was rare to see him but when he did appear, his solemn gaze was hardly an easy sight to digest.

Lilli spoke to Bucky and Sam about possibly bringing Peter into the castle as a means of watching over him until he came of age. They suggested speaking to Steve about the idea, and she reassured that was not necessary.

This wasn’t his battle to fight. She was the fucking Queen. If she wanted Peter to stay, and he was willing, then it would be so.

In the meantime, she wanted to find out how this occurred. Turning to salt upon death’s arrival was not a common occurrence. Not in Eushire, anyways. Bucky agreed to see about Queen May’s mysterious demise with Clint.

Someone died in her home, and she was willing to take great measures in finding out how it occurred.

And who might have done it.

King Thor of Asgard came within the latter part of the week, brashly announcing the arrival of his party to a court full of mourning royals. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant welcome. Queen Jane babbled out a scornful warning to him about making a scene.

Meanwhile, Lilli and Wanda were running about the castle as they accommodate the other royals arriving. Prince Loki requested he stay in the east wing, citing his disdain for groups of people clustering in the halls upon his arrival.

After a brief disagreement, he disappeared into the chambers. Lilli held back from resisting, as her brewing plans went flat.

By the second week and third week, their castle was to the brim with royals. Wanda complained about it to Natasha, who she had grown closer to in the few weeks since her arrival. Lilli could have sworn the handmaid melted when the duchess was in the area.

It was one of the many highlights in the midst of the chaos.

King T’Challa and his party arrived towards the end of the third week. They were the picturesque image of perfect royalty. Compared to everyone else who had arrived, their quiet demeanor was a gift.

Loki was quiet, though his party—more so just Thor—was incredibly disruptive. She felt like a prude, wishing silence upon the court until the funeral arrived.

But she simply kept a polite smile and steered clear from the west wing.

In fact, she steered clear of the east wing as well. She slept there, sure, but its comforting presence was dwindling as Steve dedicated his time to Margaret when he wasn’t cooped up in his office or socializing with their guests.

Lilli could blame it on his state of mourning. Grief wasn’t exact. It was wild, unpredictable. There was nothing beautiful and transformative about it. But deep down, her stomach turned at the thought of him seeking Margaret out.

Her attitude, her demeanor. It was the one thing that held consistency when she visited, and the distain ran through Lilli’s veins like fire.

Much bothered her as of late. The stress from Steve’s switching demeanor and preparing for the funeral had her in a state of wavering illness.

Incessant headaches and nausea made the most of her days. It got to the point that she’d avoided eating as much as possible, save for evenings when everyone gathered in the banquet hall.

That was her current reality. Overseeing dukes and duchesses as kings and queens conversed around her, dining on the finest delicacies and indulging in the best wine imported from Tony’s home country.

She would glance over at Steve, whose eyes constantly switched between his half-eaten plate and Margaret sitting with her handmaiden.

He had no shame in his gawking, even pulling a smirk once their eyes met. When Thor and T’Challa caught him, he gave them a sheepish smile and pressed a chaste kiss to Lilli’s cheek.

Her stoicism caused a warped tension to waft in the air, sloppy and suffocating as she scraped her fork against the expensive porcelain.

“Wanda’s told me you haven’t been feeling well,” Steve murmured suddenly, causing her to whip her head over at him. He looked at her as well, and her expression softened a bit.

He may not have been acting like the man she fell in love with, but he still resembled him.

Same innocent curl of his lips, waiting for something to say. Same vibrant blue with the flecks of green that always held some sort of secret. It was difficult to be angry with him.

She could question how Wanda even told him any of this information. They hardly interacted, save for when she was preparing for bed.

“It’s just stress,” Lilli murmured. “Nothing too serious.”

“She said it’s been going on for a few weeks,” he challenged. “That seems serious.”

She swallowed, a wave of nausea rolling over her with malevolent precision. Inhaling, she answered him. “It’s fine. I’ll be better once everything calms down.”

She had been keeping their conversations at minimum after the situation in the hall. He made no effort to apologize, and she made no effort to strike a conversation. This had been their first time speaking in weeks.

Steve parted his lips to speak, brows low on his forehead. “And what if it doesn’t?”

Lilli was unsure if it was the nausea that had her snappier than usual or his baritone voice vibrating in her ears unpleasantly, but she couldn’t stop herself from quipping, “Well, you would have Margaret to run to. Will you excuse me?”

She pushed back from the table, leaving him in a dumfounded state as she hurried off down the hall. A hand at her mouth, she scurried into the direction of their chambers.

The urge never came this quickly, but her only priority was ensuring she didn’t mess herself or the foyer. Cleaning any human excrement was unpleasant, and she refused to subject any castle workers to such feats.

Upon entering the room, she stumbled into the bathchambers and emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamberpot. It had her palming the wall, stomach cramping painfully until she could stop.

Disheveled and exhausted, she sagged against the wall with a soft exhale. Her fingers fumbled along a few locks of her hair, tears welling in her eyes when she’d seen she messed herself.

What would everyone think of their queen in such a state? Ill and ruining her own clothes after a public temper tantrum.

Planning this funeral was hell itself.

The royal physician, Dr. Banner, visited Lilli the next day. Wanda accompanied her, babbling on about Natasha as they awaited his arrival in the royal chambers. It was a welcoming distraction, especially when she had to work through more exhausting nausea waves.

“Do you think travelling to Her Grace’s country would be doing…too much? I would love to visit and…help around her estate.”

Wanda was sighing out dreamily, fiddling with her skirts. Her cheeks were rosy, a shy grin making its way onto her face. It was like watching a lovesick teen handle their overwhelming feelings.

“You would have to ask the duchess if that’s an adequate position for you,” Lilli sighed out, resting her head against the back of her seat. “Have you been considering what to tell Pietro about this decision?”

“Oh, of course,” Wanda chirped. “I would rather wait until I see him in person. Doesn’t feel right sending a letter.”

“I’d miss you terribly, but I’m sure you’ll be of much better help to Natasha,” she teased the handmaiden, who murmured a few reassurances about the integrity of her possible position.

It had been the first time Lilli sent a smile anyone’s way that morning.

Three sharp knocks resounded throughout the room then, causing both Lilli and Wanda to jump at the sudden noise.

They shared a glance before the person spoke.

“It’s…Dr. Banner, Your Majesty,” a wavering voice called from the other side of the door. Despite the shyness in the doctor’s demeanor, his voice carried well.

Wanda pulled the door open, smiling politely at the physician as he entered the room before standing beside Lilli again, fingers still fussing with her clothes anxiously.

He threw a cautious smile her way, politely bowing to Lilli as he muttered out, “Your Majesty.”

“No need for the formalities, Dr. Banner,” Lilli reassured. “I’m glad you could come on such short notice.”

Switching his leather bag to his other hand, he pushed his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose and shook his head as he neared her.

“It’s not a problem,” he breathed out as he unzipped his bag smoothly. “You’re my best patient.”

That earned a soft chuckle from Lilli, watching intently as Dr. Banner fished in his bag. Her stomach turned over—a common occurrence unfortunately—awaiting what he could bring out, but visibly sagged seeing it was only a notepad and covered quill.

Her nerves were all over the place, and she couldn’t explain why. It was merely the stress.

Right?

“So, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’ve been having these horrid headaches and nausea. My appetite’s not as good as it used to be.” “I’ve been just blaming it on the stress, since the funeral is in two weeks, but I wanted to run it by you, in case it was something more severe.”

Wanda’s visible concern was something the physician caught, along with a dark gleam that indicated something else.

After some quickly scribbling on the notepad, Dr. Banner continued his questioning. “Has the nausea escalated or?”

“Yes.” Lilli tugged at her hair, chewing on her lower lip. “It first occurred two weeks ago, and then last night.”

More silence ensured, save for the vague scribbling against his pad. Lilli looked over at Wanda, whose lips were moving quickly as she burned her stare into the carpet. Calculating.

“Have you bled, Your Majesty?”

“As in…”

Dr. Banner’s cheeks grew red as he cleared his throat. “As in your monthly cycle, apologies.”

The warmth from her cheeks traveled up to her ears at the realization, swallowing thickly as she slowly shook her head. “No…I assumed it was stress. It’s happened before.”

“I see.” He fished in his bag again, pulling out a pouch and emptying its contents into his palm. Golden petals nearly identical to the ones Wanda had given her. “I recommend—what is it, Your Majesty?”

Lilli hadn’t realized she was frowning until Dr. Banner spoke, relaxing her face as she leaned back in her seat. “I…Wanda’s given me those before.”

The physician’s eyes bulged. “Wha—these? Why?”

“Pregnancy avoidance,” Wanda clarified. “Merely in the form of tea.”

“Have you been using them correctly?”

Wanda frowned, straightening her back and standing tall. “Of course. My mother taught me well.”

Lilli looked between them, confusing intermingled with frustration. “What am I supposed to be using these for?”

Dr. Banner neared her, prompting her to stand up as her gaze went from his kind face to the leaves in his palm. “When you relieve yourself, these will be in the chamber pot while you do so. If a flower blooms, you are with child.”

Lilli’s chest tightened as she stared at him, wide eyes sparkling with unrelenting fear. “I…flowers don’t just take minutes to bloom, Dr. Banner.”

Wanda and the physician shared a look, teetering on guilty.

“Magic,” she mumbled defeatedly.

Pregnancy was always expected of her. Once their wedding night preceded, it was nothing but methods and positions for childbearing and child-making.

The flowers and herbs were her anchors. Lifelines to ensure things remained the same. But…the likelihood of all that ceasing frightened her.

Lilli said a silent prayer. She wasn’t sure who it was to, but she called to hope the stress had led to this. Nothing more, nothing less.

The walk to the chamberpot had her belly fluttering, the fear growing heavier as she shut the door.

It was nearly tangible as she held the remnants of flower in her hand and stared at the seat, lower lip quivering as she dusted the petals into the water.

It took five minutes. But those minutes seemed to stretch in time.

This was nothing like the sea sweeping her up in its hold, looking time in the face as it kept her safe. Nothing like the timeless kisses she shared with Steve when they would make love.

This was torturous. A wild stretch that mocked her as she walked from one end of the bathchamber to the other. A sand timer sat on the counter, the grains settling and shuddering in a sickening dance.

Just as the last grain from the timer fell into the glass, Lilli’s eyes widened, and her lips parted.

“Dr. Banner!”

As the physician came running to the bathchambers, a soft gasp filled the silence.

The chamberpot casted a yellow glow throughout the area, illuminating the walls as petals weaved around one another in figure eighths until a golden orb formed.

It sat there, glimmering playfully before bursting, a stem falling from a singular tendril of green. Its petals retracted and spread, the bloom causing a tear to fall down her cheek as the light slowly dimmed.

As fresh as it would be from a garden stood a flower, glowing and vibrant in all its splendor.

Flowers were a magnificent thing, but Lilli could only crash to the floor as she sobbed.

↢

finally! i hope everyone likes this new chapter, sorry it took so long. please leave a comment and reblog, it does absolute wonders!

dividers by me. i do not give permission for their use, as they are only for this series.

#king!steve #steve rogers au #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #marvel fic #marvel au #wanda maximoff #chris evans #chris evans character #saltwater tears #luckyduckyqueue

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makoandharu · 2 years

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This makes me feel...things because apparently there's this twitter post comparing utsumi's original plans vs. canon post s2 lol

Firstable idk where this person is getting this information from and how they're interpreting utsumis words bc they clearly have their own agenda (as i do too lol so let's not get it twisted we all see and interpret things the way we want to bc of how we understand these characters) so like I'm gonna take their tweets with a grain of salt. Also i promise i tried to not b petty but these tweets really. Uuuhhhh. Annoyed me.

Secondly, i think it's really unfair to say that just bc mh live fairly close to each other and see each other all the time that they HAVEN'T grown into their own adults. I think "neo-free" (which. Um. I don't like this term lol) shows so clearly that mh have their own thing going and they're growing independently together bc they chose to stay in each other's lives despite their different paths and despite how much the world HAS tried to pull them apart. These tweets are post fs1, and the scene in that movie where mh discuss not being able to see each other bc Haru has to train is so vital bc they discuss that so openly and happily and with so much understanding and care bc they both know that they have grown on their own and that's a good thing and just bc they have to spend time apart doesn't mean they care for each other less. It's the fact that they CAN spend time apart, and actually communicate that to each other so openly (and with a smile! Good god i love this scene i could talk about it for days) shows how much they've grown into their own and how much they understand to a t. It shows how much they've evolved from Makoto not telling Haru about Tokyo and Haru assuming Makoto choosing Tokyo meant actively choosing to leave Haru behind. It shows how much they uplift each other and are good for each other bc they can be a support without 1) dragging each other down 2) one's success and own path feeling like it somehow means the other isn't succeeding 3) some toxic behaviour where if one isn't there it means they chose to leave the other behind on purpose (no shade no shade no shade some shade maybe)

Ships aside, they've been best friends all their lives, i think it's so ooc and petty to assume that the fact that they "spend less time together and grow into their own adults" means that like, what, they don't even talk or don't care about each other or think about each other and just meet up like on birthdays and stuff idk?? Like ugh idk how many times we have to say that mh wake up every day and decide to be in each other's lives, despite it all? Yeah they don't have time to hang out, but they'll make time bc they want to. Yeah they just spent the whole day together and Haru has practice in the morning and should go home but they're still gonna go to Makoto's and hang out some more because they want to. They enjoy each other's company outside their dreams and aspirations and adult life and commitments. They like spending time with each other, not just spending like talking about swimming or practice swimming or travelling together to go swim or hanging out together before their heat and watching their other friends swim. (Again no shade but like if the shoe fits 🏃🏽‍♀️💨) Like their whole relationship exists outside of that world bc they actually like each other outside of Haru's swimming! Bc Makoto actually sees Haru as a person outside of his swimming! Like idk why that's such a hard concept to understand, i mean i get it it's a sports anime that's gonna b the focus, but the mh dynamic has always existed outside that concept and that's their entire apeal! Makoto is home. It's who Haru comes back to AFTER a long day of swimming. God i feel like I'm going in circles but i can't just put it more simply than they're best friends and they're gonna make time to hang out no matter what they're doing in life bc they actually like spending time together. That doesn't mean they haven't "grown into their own" or that their "spending less time together" can't be countered with active measures to make time for each other OR when needed healthy communication to say why they can't spend time rn. Like sorry mh chose soulmate behaviour instead of pushing each other around and acting like everything bad in their life is caused by the other who would even do such a thing 🏃🏽‍♀️💨

As for the other two tweets, people grow. Yeah they could've executed the Makoto career change better but if Haru's allowed to change so much that professional swimming is a "sight" he wants to see with Rin, then Makoto's allowed to change to want the same. Rin asked Makoto to get Haru on board for that first relay back in elementary school, Rin wanted to spend time with Makoto and was excited when Makoto knew who he was and wanted to be his friend. Rin and Makoto are friends just as much as Rin and Haru (more so i would say bc their relationship, too, grows outside the confines of a swimming pool, but I'm not here to discuss Rin and Haru's lack of relationship) so why wouldn't Makoto wanna see the sight Rin is showing? Also i haven't seen many fs2 spoilers so idk if this idea that Makoto still fears being left behind is actually discussed/resolved so i can't really comment on it rn. And idc enough about ssk's character to have an opinion on it but again. People change? FS2 SPOILERS FROM NOW from what I gather Asahi also wasn't going to persue swimming until he saw his friends swim and decided actually he did wanna do this professionally? So like lol why wouldn't ssk when he spent so much time and effort into this and sacrificed so much? Like sorry it's a sports anime, and it can't be all about swimming when it comes to Rin and Haru but everyone else has to stay away from them and that world so they can just swim together happily ever after into the sunset lol

(Also mans talking about sk8 as if utsumi didn't just. Take sourin and makoharu and rehashed them for a new audience. 😂😂😂)

Thanks for sending i can't believe this annoyed me so much that i actually answered an ask immediately lmao

#I'm not gonna talk about how all of these tweets can be countered w all the reasons 1) utsumi was a mh shipper 2) rh has no leg to stand on #but i just want rhs to keep my wife's name (mh) out their fkn mouth #like just don't talk about them you literally don't understand them bc you don't understand basic friendship?????#anyway #this (the tweets not your ask dw) pissed me off lol this is why i got rid of twt and why all of the rhs are blocked #like just say u don't understand this show and go #or sk8?? lmao 😩#anon #ask #meta #makoharu

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angloie · 2 years

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Hey! I would love a one shot about Percy protecting Annabeth from danger. Some sweet fluff and lots of 'I love yous' to follow. Thanks!

Annabeth Chase is afraid of many things. She's afraid of spiders, failure, and sometimes her own self; but she can't deny the unshakeable feeling of protection when she's with Percy. Though skillful and apt, Annabeth somehow finds herself in trouble— but this time is different. This time, she's vulnerable.

genre: angst to fluff <3

warnings: mentions of blood + swearing, ooc percy :’)

[ ♡ ] — thanks for the request! sorry for the wait— i hope this was what you were asking for! :)

Annabeth prefers to think that she’s a smart person.

I mean, you know— she’s designed Olympus. Hell, Annabeth has saved Olympus, and coincidentally, the whole world too. She’s fought Kronos’s army, got stabbed, and won; so you’d think that too.

And of course her fellow campers think that too. They come up to her with bright smiles asking to teach them how to use a dagger, asking to teach them sparring, asking to teach them anything you can think of.

But of course, Annabeth is only human. Demigod— but whatever. She has her limits.

And so does Percy.

“Hey,” She comes up to knock on his cabin door one restless night, “You there, seaweed brain?”

Annabeth can hear shuffling inside, and then a: “Annabeth?”

“Yeah,” She hums, “It’s me.”

His voice is tired. A little rough, a little worn out, a little exhausted. Yeah, no wonder; Percy’s been busy with teaching some of the younger kids in his free time, and using the rest of that time to train.

He opens the door revealing his tired self: a black shirt, sweatpants, and dark circles forming under his eyes. Yet, Percy gives a huff.

And maybe that’s it. A tiny part of Annabeth think’s he’s going to let her in. A part of her thinks he’s going to close the door; apologize, wish a good night, and close the door on her.

He doesn’t.

Though begrudingly, Percy opens the door wider. It might just be Annabeth being over-analytical, but she can’t help but notice his hesitancy.

Does he want me to leave? She thinks, I mean I can, but- I don’t... I don’t really have another place to stay-

“Can’t sleep?” He questions with a yawn, “It’s pretty late.”

“Mhm. It’s funny. I’ve been tired all day, but I can’t seem to fall asleep now.”

Annabeth trails after him through the room, heading for his bed. Clothing articles are strewn over parts of the floor. The small salt water fountain in the corner of the room has a few golden drachma on the ledges, and old candy wrappers sit atop his nightstand.

Percy must be really tired, because the cabin is usually decently clean. Or at least he tries to keep it clean.

He crawls under the blankets of his bed, turning to her as she looks at him expectantly. His expression says ‘you can sleep somewhere else’— but is that true? No— Percy’s just going to invite her there, too. Right? He—

“Sorry, its kind of stuffy in here,” He yawns and turns his back to her, “Maybe you can sleep in the bunk above me.”

Oh. “That’s fine, seaweed brain; I just wanna sit down right now.” Annabeth props her back against the bed frames’ rail.

It’s quiet.

Annabeth clears her throat. “It’s... it’s been a while since we’ve had some alone time, hasn’t it?”

“It has.” His reply is delayed.

“We should have lunch together tomorrow,” Annabeth smiles to herself. “To catch up and all that.”

“Uh huh.”

Am i bothering him?

“How have you been?”

“Good.”

A pause.

“You’re probably tired.”

“Yeah.”

Another pregnant pause, tense and cold and everything Annabeth doesn’t want to feel.

“So i’ve been working on these new building designs,” She says slowly, “Maybe I could show you sometime. I’ve worked hard on it, so i’m excited to show you-”

“Gods, could you just shut up?”

“I- what?”

Percy’s up now, tearing off the sheets to stand in front of her, “Do you know how tired I am? Iv’e been working my ass of for the last week—”

His eyes are alive now, but Annabeth isn’t sure if its a good thing.

“—Trying to find time for anything else and the only time I get to myself is this? When this is the only time I want to be alone?”

Annabeth stands up. “Woah, hey; Let’s just talk this out. I’m tired too-”

“Are you?” Percy scoffs, cutting her off with a sharp glance

“So why don’t we just sleep on this until the morning?” She says frantically, reaching out to touch his arm with a gentle hand.

He pulls his arm away defiantly.

"No," Percy seethes, "No."

"I-"

"Do you know how much I hate hearing your little rants all the time?" He continues, voice dark, "Do you know how much I hate how clingy you've gotten since we started dating? Gods, Annabeth, you're insufferable!"

That's bad. Not wisegirl. Not baby, babe, love- just Annabeth. What she would give to just hear a affectionate name come out of his mouth, because fuck, this just hurts.

"What? I'm sorry, but-"

"Just get out!" Percy sighs frustratedly. "Please."

Silence yet again.

"Okay," Annabeth's voice comes out quiet. Broken. "Okay."

It takes a few steps to walk out of the door— ashamed or embarrassingly, she doesn't know— and just like that, Annabeth is gone.

Percy messed up.

He isn't surprised.

After all, he's been tried all week. Longer? Who knows? All he can remember is Annabeth coming into his cabin, him snapping for god knows what, and then he's telling her to get out.

After he's cooled off, cleared his head, Percy just feels regret.

Little snippets of the conversation pop into his mind. But fuck. It's worse, if that's possible.

"Do you know how much I hate hearing your little rants all the time?"

No. I love hearing your rants all the time. I love hearing your voice, even if its you complaining about cabin mates, even if its you talking about new building designs.

"Do you know how much I hate how clingy you've gotten since we started dating?"

I love you. Why would I hate you being clingy?

"Gods, Annabeth, you're insufferable!"

Gods, wisegirl, I love you.

"Just get out!"

Please stay with me.

And he knows it'll take a lot of time to gain back Annabeth's trust. Percy just wants to do that. Please, just let him do that.

Percy decides to start by finding her.

It wouldn't— shouldn't be hard to do so, because he knows where to go. Annabeth likes to hide under her blankets on cold nights. She likes to wrap herself in his blankets, too, or head to the top of Camp Half Blood hill to gaze at the stars with him.

Except Annabeth isn't at any of those places.

He's checked her cabin. Under her bunk, too. Camp Half blood hill? Deserted. His cabin?

...No.

Okay, Percy thinks to himself, Where else does she like to go?

Oh, that's right.

The forest. It's a familiar place. With its comftorable atmosphere and friendly dryads, its a one-stop for cooling down.

But night time? Don't get him started.Should you take one glance and surely, you'd regret it.

It's a slow thought, but Percy finds himself trudging his way through the dark woods. His legs hurt, eyes hurt, everything hurts, but he continues on.

The ground is damn under his steps, and Percy can't help but notice the eerie aura to everything. The moon is covered by thick, grey clouds. even with his sweatpants and a sweater thrown on, it's cold. It's uncomftorable being out there.

"Annabeth?" He can only hope she's not in trouble, so Percy calls out again, "Annabeth? Are you-"

A scream rings out through the forest, and Percy freezes.

That was- No, it wasn't- It couldn't be her. Not here, not now!

It was definitely Annabeth.

It came from his left- so, naturally, Percy finds his rational desicion making skills fly out the window instead of calmly proceeding towards the screams. His legs betray him as he darts towards the sounds, heart beating so loudly he can't seem to hear anything else.

Then, of course, he sees Ananbeth and the Myrmekes, and Percy can't think straight anymore.

She's surrounded by about three of them, the ant-like creatures surrounding her, and Annabeth seems to be caught off guard because her eyes are widened in shock.

Her eyes- they look red and stained by tears. Most likely caused by him.

Before Percy can let the guilt set in, maybe stop to plan what his next move should be, his body betrays him as he surges forward; uncapping Riptide the fastest he's ever had.

Heartbeat in his ears, Percy watches as one of the Myrmerkes gnaws its mandibles. It's a sign it's about to spit poison at her, but before that-

"Annabeth!"

Then she's looking at him, dagger weakened in her hands and face faltering. She's... Beautiful. But now's not the time to notice that, because he's sprinting towards her in a frantic dash.

"Umph-" Annabeth gasps as she's pulled out of the Myrmerkes way, which just so happens to spit it's poision in their way. It leaves a trail of burnt earth in it's wake.

"Seawe-" She looks away. "P-Percy?"

She's not hurt, He notices, Good.

"Please, stay here-" Percy starts slowly.

"No- I can do this myself-" Annabeth starts to get up from the ground, before her right leg goes limp— and she collapses back to the ground. Her lips twitch downwards in disastisfaction.

The Myrmerke only hiss louder.

"You can't," He says quietly. "Please. Let me help you."

After a beat, she looks at the monster. And then at him. "...Alright." It's hesitant, but otherwise willingly. Percy smiles.

He wants to fight. He wants to rip it to shreds, send it back to Tartarus, but Percy sighs and caps Riptide back on before gently picking up Annabeth.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Easy," When he sucsessfuly slides his arms under her legs and holding her back, Percy looks down at her. "Running."

"What-" She tries to say, but they're already halfway out the forest.

The run back is... Quiet, to say the least. Percy's breathing is laboured and frantic, his eyes darting towards her in concern every few seconds.

Annabeth wants to think that he's cooled down— but has he? Or is he just guilty?

Her questions are answered when Percy stops short at his cabin door.

"Im sorry," He says, placing her down on the stairs and sitting beside her, "I'm so sorry."

Annabeth stays silent, chewing on her bottom lip. Her hands are cold while they sit in her lap.

"I was tired, and wasn't thinking... I didn't- I didn't mean anything I said."

After a pause, she speaks up. "I know."

Percy looks down.

She looks at him. "But i'm sorry too— I should've came at another time. It was uncalled for."

He looks like the weight of the world has just been lifted off his shoulders. She would know— he's quiet literally done it before.

"Do you wanna come in?" He asks hopefully.

The moonlight shines down on them as the clouds clear. The stars are bright. All is well. All is calm.

"Won't I be a bother?"

"No," Percy immediately says, "No, you could never."

She smiles a bit. "Okay, then."

"One more thing," Percy says as he helps Annabeth get up, "I love you."

Percy doesn't expect her to say it back, at least not yet, but she says it right back;

"I love you too."

It's hopeful.

#why DID THIS TAKE SO LONG IM SO SORRY #geez i finally did it #i hope you enjoyed it! <3 #pjo #percabeth #annabeth chase #percy jackson #percy pjo #annabeth pjo #percabeth oneshot #percabeth fanfiction #percabeth fanfic #chb #percabeth angst

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