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m1d-45 · 9 months

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darling, my dear

summary: short, fluffy moments with your lover. diluc, tighnari, xiao, childe, and kazuha in that order

word count: ~1.7k

-> warnings: spoilers for mondstat story quest/ diluc lore, minor mention of blood in tighnari’s, reader is also very silly goofy in nari’s because i said so, author is down bad for kazuha and it shows

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

diluc

“‘luc? where are you going?”

diluc turned from his spot on the edge of the bed, smiling down at you. he’d hoped not to wake you, but now that you were awake, he ran his hand over your cheek without hesitation. “nothing you need to worry about,” he said softly, smile growing when you put your hand over his. “go back to sleep, love.”

your eyes were heavy, he could see, and yet you tried to stay awake for him. how adorable you were… he wished he could stay here with you forever. “what does that mean? darknight stuff?”

“no, not that. i always tell you when i go out for that.” his thumb swept in an arc as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “i need to go to a meeting with a merchant from liyue. i’ll be back in time for our lunch with an hour to spare.”

“you better be..” you let your eyes close, put to rest by his reassurance, and he waited until your grip on his hand loosened to slip away. he finished dressing as quietly as he could, pausing in the doorway when he was done to look back.

the day he was tired of the sight of you in his bed was the day he’d die, he decided, for if he no longer found joy in such an act of trust, there was nothing else to live for.

tighnari

tighnari stomped twice on the mat outside his home, shaking off as much dirt as he could before entering. normally when he came back in such a shape, it was because of a nasty withering zone or a rude group of fungi, but this time…

he sighed, ears flicking at the memory. he wasn’t sure how he didn’t hear the boar, really, nor how one so small had managed to push him so hard. thankfully, he wasn’t beside any of the larger cliffs, just a denser patch of bushes, but still.

you came home as he finished checking himself for injuries, dirtied outer layer already discarded in the hamper. how he was able to pick up your footsteps as you navigated his home but not the clumsy smashing of a boat through the forest… maybe only celestia knew.

you knocked on the door twice before entering the bathroom, eyebrows raising as you took in his condition. he knew he was a mess: various leaves and sticks sticking out of his hair and tail, dirt smeared on his cheeks and hands, a handful of small nicks sprinkled across his forearms…

“you enter a boar wrestling contest?”

it was a joke. or, most days it would be. but now, he shut his eyes as he groaned, as if that would block out the sound of your shocked laughter.

“wait, did-“

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“tighnari-“ it was hard to pretend to be upset when you began to pick out the various leaves in his hair, his ears twisting to hear it better. “how’d that happen? you’re normally the first to hear anything!”

“yeah, well…” he could see your grin grow the longer he went without an excuse, and eventually settled on picking up the first aid kit, beginning to disinfect his many, many scrapes. “whatever..”

“you’re adorable.”

“no i’m not.”

“you are. always reminding everyone of safety, yet you somehow miss a boar.”

“i- i was distracted!” he switched out the cotton pad in his hand for a new one, moving onto his other arm. “there was an albino sweet flower. i was curious about its properties, as i’d never seen one before… besides, it was a young boar.”

“still a boar. give me your tail.” he lifted it, letting you pull the leaves from it as well. “you’re not hurt, right?”

“i’m not, it was too small to do any damage, and i mostly just hit bushes on the way down.”

“that’s good.”

for a few minutes, all was quiet. he put bandages over the few cuts that had gone deep enough to require them, brushing through his now-mostly-clean hair and washing the dirt off his face. he’d still need to take a shower, but this felt better.

and then you finished with his tail, letting it fall, “what if another boar was waiting for you at the bottom, do you think you would have heard that one?”

“by the seven above-“

childe

you’d been in this situation before. more times than you could count, provided you even wanted to, but it never got easier.

he was a harbinger. he got sent on missions often. he was skilled in combat, yes, but often acted more than a bit reckless—he’d been doing better since the two of you had been together, but..

ajax winced, just slightly, as he tightened a bandage around his shoulder, and your hands twitched toward him. you wanted to help, if only to keep him from hurting himself further, but he insisted you “keep your hands clean.” no blood on your hands, his or otherwise, for as long as he could keep it that way. you were delegated to watching from your spot on the edge of the bathtub, no matter how much you wanted to help.

he sent you an apologetic smile, finally taping down the end. “sorry sweetheart. i’ll make it up to you later, okay?”

“you don’t-“

“-have to, i know, but i want to. i don’t like making you upset.”

the same routine every time. he comes home, giving you a hug or kiss if he could do so without staining your clothes, or grabbing the towel kept by the door for this express purpose to do so. then to the bathroom to tidy up and treat his injuries, then whatever else you’d like. a dinner if it was late enough, or a homemade lunch, or a handful of hours spent in bed, holding each other close until one or both fell asleep. despite the consistency of this, sometimes he’d be scheduled for a meeting or debrief, ones he always missed.

today was one of such days.

“you’re sure you’re not going to get in trouble?”

he pulled on his shirt and shook out his hair, reaching to pull you to your feet with a quick kiss on your cheek. “certain. i’m too important for them to fire, and you’re too important to ignore.”

a man willing to deny the ninth harbinger for you… it was hard to argue that he felt anything less than pure adoration toward you in moments like this.

xiao

you were falling asleep. he could tell. your eyes dropped, head beginning to fall for a split second before you caught yourself. it was… endearing, he thinks, how much you tried to stay awake.

humans needed sleep. why you insisted on sacrificing yours for a few more minutes sat on the balcony with him, he didn’t know.

“you should rest,” he said, watching as you rubbed at your eyes.

you shook your head. expected. “i want to stay out here with you.”

“…those things are not exclusive.”

he tugged at your sleeve until you leaned against him, trying to stay as still as possible. he wanted you to be happy, and if you wanted to sit out here with him… then he’d do just that. the thin blanket beneath the both of you couldn’t be comfortable, and the night would certainly only get colder… but he didn’t mind. your body was warm against his, and he’d carry you inside far before you could get sick.

you shifted, and his fingers curled around yours to keep you from pulling away. he may be a bit shy about admitting it, but he loved the feeling of your skin on his. don’t back off, please?

kazoo

you stood on the docks of liyue, watching eagerly as the crux fleet sailed into the harbor. even from here, you could see the bright red of your lover’s clothe’s from atop the crow’s nest. people swarmed the boat, merchants and various busymen awaiting their goods, but you didn’t move an inch. you knew who you were waiting for, and knew he knew where to go.

there. his bright white hair reflecting the sun, the various ripples in the air as he lowered himself on platforms of anemo. with a wave to the captain—who laughed with her chest and watched with a smile—his shoes touched the deck, bringing him quickly to you.

kazuha took your hand and brought it to his lips as he bowed, red eyes taking you in for the first time in three weeks. “it is lovely to see you again, my dear.”

you pulled him closer, wrapping him in a hug. “i missed you.”

he squeezes you tightly, kissing your hair. “i missed you too. how have you been? are you alright?”

“better, now.”

you could feel his laugh through your hands, right beside his heartbeat. “what a charmer,” he teased, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. “are you certain? has anything troubling come up?”

“nothing.” you reached up to move a piece of hair that wasn’t there, just to have an excuse to cup his face in your palm. he turned, kissing your wrist with another smile.

“good. i’d hate for something to bother you when i’m unable to help.”

“you don’t have to help me with everything, kaz.”

“oh, i’m certain i don’t have to. but everything is always easier with help, no? why shouldn’t i assist that who i love the most?”

in your brief moment of surprise, he turned the both of you so you could walk side by side, his arm around your sides. ”now, do you have any plans for today? if not, allow me to treat you to lunch. it’s been far too long since i’ve properly shared a meal with you.”

he may call you a charmer, but it was you who always ended up flustered.

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cosmosis · 11 months

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tauro (totk) x reader

cw. mentions of feminine pronouns, like “girl”

i decided that there is not enough tauro content!

The first time Tauro stumbled upon you was literally whilst you were draped across the dirty floor of a Zonai cave. Like a victorian maiden, you lay unconscious on the dark floors; Tauro nearly stepped on you if it weren’t for the lamp he carries on explorations. (Not that you’d mind him stepping on you.)

You were out cold, dust and dirt smeared onto your face, a journal mid-hand. You seemed to be doing some research of your own, a satchel by your side, and an unfortunately spilled bottle of water.

Quickly, Tauro checked for your heartbeat, pulling back the collar of your shirt to gently place his fingers on your pulse point. It was slow, but steady. You were breathing; he could hear your tiny puffs within the vast silence of the cave.

Tauro has heard of numerous adventures gone wrong, a few of his own fellow researchers falling victim to such emergencies. Lack of water, getting lost, or undernourishment were common. He took his voyage safety very seriously.

First, warmth. A cold cave like this would no doubt be miserable for someone your size. He unwraps the sky-blue jacket from his lower waist, carefully kneeling down and draping the cloth over your body. Hurriedly, he scoops you up into his arms, shuddering at the feeling of your ice-cold skin.

For a split second, he can’t help but stare a little at your face. You’re an explorer, just like him, no doubt. Pretty, too. He can’t wait to ask you of your studies once you’re safe and well. The man tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, further immersing himself in you.

After shoving your journal and pen into one of his spare pockets, and slinging your satchel over his shoulder, Tauro hurries out of the cave, jogging to retrace his steps back to sunlight. He sighs in relief when he steps out into the open sun, feeling warmth melt the chill of the cave away.

Your face is so pale, so ghastly it makes him wonder how long you were left in the cave. Any longer, and you could’ve been dead.

Through his shaggy locks, Tauro spots a tree rested by a cliff of rocks. Perfect; a nice place to rest and heal. He beelines towards the tree, cautiously peering around the area for any sign of a threat. Thankfully, there isn’t any, leaving Tauro to gingerly set you down on the ground once more. Kneeling down, he balls up the jacket, fixing it up to be a makeshift pillow for you to lay upon.

Thank Hylia for Tauro’s numerous pockets, fit to hold both water and rations. His friends tease him for having so many pockets, but he just thinks they won’t be as prepared when needed be. He pulls out a strip of jerky, re-buttoning his vest pocket closed. Gently, he reaches out to feel your hand, searching for any sign of warmth in you.

Your hand is so soft, small compared to himself. How did you manage to voyage so deep into the cave alone? Explorer’s determination, he supposes. Tauro almost seems to forget that he’s supposed to be searching for your recovery, and instead starts kneading the palm of your hand with his fingers.

With the feeling of your fingers being played with, Tauro spots your eyelids flutter. As if you’ve burned him, he retreats his hand from yours, pretending like he wasn’t even touching you in the first place.

He watches the color slowly return to your face, and takes it upon himself to try to wake you up. A big hand tenderly rubs the side of your arm, hoping to wake you for food and water.

Unexpectedly, your eyes instantly flutter open, similarly to a possessed doll. You see sunlight dimmed by trees, the blinding blue sky above you. You feel laid down, lightly feeling the grass beneath you with your fingers.

Your eyes stay shut, but you croak to speak. You hear faint shuffling beside you, a sign of a person.

“Where am I?“ You ask.

Surprisingly, you hear nothing. But you do feel another few rubs on the side of your arm. The hand is big, rough from what you assume to be some kind of work.

Finally, you decide to open your eyes. It takes you a moment to get fully adjusted to the light, but you do eventually.

You see no eyes, but you do see hair. You do see a vest, chestnut skin, comically large goggles. A man, no doubt. A handsome one too. With squinted eyes, you can see his deadpan expression, and you can feel his arm try to ease you to sit up. You obey, working with him to rest yourself against the rough bark of the tree behind you.

You watch as the man unscrews a cap from a flask, and you can hear the faint swish of water. It makes you unbelievably thirsty. In a blur, the man kneels further closer to you, tilting your jaw forward with the most caring of touches. He shows you the flask, and you open your mouth a little, allowing him to tilt the flask. Gradually, you paw and grab at the bottle, insistive that you could drink water independently. (You can’t even grasp the flask properly.)

After a few drinks, you take your fill of water, Tauro absentmindedly stroking the corner of your jaw with his thumb. It shouldn’t make you flush, especially in your condition, but he manages to somehow bring even more color to your cheeks.

You feel like the water has washed away some of your fatigue, and you allow yourself to further inspect your savior. He’s really big, you feel like, but the way he cares for you is cute. Maybe you should pass out in caves more often.

You almost frown when Tauro recoils his hand from your jaw, but you then realize he’s giving you food, which makes you happier. He (attractively, might I add,) tears a piece of jerky with his teeth, pressing it closer to your mouth. Weakly, you fumble the piece between your fingers, pressing it into your mouth to slowly chew on.

“Atta’ girl.“

His voice is exactly what you expected it to be, its embarrassing how much that motivated you alone to eat your food.

“It’s good.“ You added, feeling around for pieces stuck in your teeth with your tongue.

He tears you another, and you take it, chewing it up in slight hopes he’ll encourage you again.

“I found you passed out in the cave.“ He mutters, and you flush a little in embarrassment.

"Sorry-” you chuckle. “I just really wanted to log down the scripts. I’m trying to decode them.”

Intrigue sparks in Tauro, and before he can even think, words string out of his mouth like music.

“My team and I have been researching as well. As of now, we’ve been linking the scriptures to some of our own slabs that we’ve found.”

His outburst is passionate, and you’re surprised at the hearing of a full on team by his side. It’s like he’s trying to hold back excitement, but it’s bursting at the seams. He must be very dedicated, and you assume he may be possibly working with Kakariko researchers. They’re known to be passionate of their work.

Tauro doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. He’s radiating with impulse.

“Won’t you like to come take a visit at my lab later? I can show you our findings. There’s so much to uncover...“

You realize that he has a gentle hand on your forearm. There’s a faint smile on his mouth, and you can’t help but want to peek through his shaggy fringe. What color would his eyes be? Does he have just as much of a kind smile with his hair pushed away?

He’s cute... really cute.

“Name?“ You ask. He passes you another piece of jerky.

“Tauro. It’s Tauro.“

You finish chewing, and you can feel his gaze on you.

“I’d love to see your lab, Tauro.“

#botw #totk #legend of zelda #Tauro x reader #tauro botw #tauro totk #x reader #fluff #cosmosis-writes ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎#tears of the kingdom

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artistsfuneral · 10 months

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The Road to Kaer Morhen - p.1

Whereas the country of Kaedwen was a bit infamous for its unforgiving winters, people rarely talked about the summers in the north. If anyone had cared enough to ask, Jaskier would've happily stated that the summertime up in the mountains was just as character-strong as it's opposing season. A weird statement for the bard, since Jaskier tended to call summer his favorite season, but unlike the norm it wasn't the steadily rising temperatures that were bothering him. It was the light.

After many years of travel his body had become accustomed to wake with the spreading brightness of a new day and rest when the sun hid behind the horizon. It was an incredibly useful habit that allowed him to get the most out of each beautiful summer day and catch up on rest as well as rightfully sleep through every single one of Marx' morning lectures during winter at Oxenfurt. Problematic about this was, that the kaedweni summer sun had yet to understand that Jaskier needed at least seven hours of his beauty sleep. To think clearly and to keep his impulses in check, because who was he trying to fool – he always looked pretty no matter the circumstances.

The part with the impulse control was the hardest one, he mused as he took a bite of the glazed sweet roll he had not intended to be his breakfast but enjoyed none the less. Due to the lack of shutters on the windows of his temporary bedroom, he had been awake dreadfully early and left the inn at the same time the owner of the bakery across the street had opened his doors and windows. The baker turned out to be a very charming man that had not only taken pity on Jaskier's oh so grim situation and spent the morning listening to the bard's idle chatter, but had also gifted him not one but two of the heavenly sweet rolls because 'they came out too crooked to sell'. Jaskier had thanked the baker by kissing him on the cheek and left once the first tired customer knocked against the door.

Licking the white sugar glaze from his fingertips, Jaskier strolled towards the town's daily marked were the vendors set up all kinds of stalls. From farmers and butchers to tailors and leather workers, Jaskier was sure he could make out almost every major profession which was absolutely perfect given this was the last big town he'd travel through before finding his way to Kaer Morhen. Or at least trying to do so.

It wasn't like Geralt had ever taken him to his wondrous witcher winter home before, or given him a map for that matter. Geralt had only asked him once, which felt like a lifetime ago, if he'd like to spend a winter at Kaer Morhen. Back then Jaskier, much younger and always so caught up in his own affairs, had listened to Geralt's bland description of a more crusty than rustic, crumbling and freezing fortress and had gently told the other man that he very much appreciated the thought but was fond of all of his toes and rather spent his winters in Oxenfurt. After a long moment of contemplated thinking Geralt had then told him that Jaskier, should he ever find himself in honest trouble, would find his safety at Kaer Morhen. That is, should he ever manage to find the keep, which certainly wasn't guaranteed given the fact that Geralt had never given him any true directions. What he had memorized instead was a list of obscure waypoints, like 'the big mossy rock', the 'jumping tree branch' or 'the cliff that looked like a raccoon'.

The bard could only hope that if he made it to the gates, the grandmaster of the keep would count being wanted by the entirety of the nilfgaardian army, the Redanian Secret Service essentially telling him he was on his own, his flat at Oxenfurt being broken into and an assassination attempt almost succeeding whilst he was playing at the Baron of Yspaden's name day, as 'troublesome enough' to let him stay. Especially since the latest incident had him storming out of Yspaden in such a hurry that he hadn't had time to change out his packs. As a result he was walking around the kaedweni landscape in his best court apparel which – if his unexpected travel companion, who was still peacefully asleep at the inn, was to believed – made him look like a peacock in a chicken coop. Trying to blend in with the rest was comically impossible, so Jaskier had straight out given up on that and instead done what he did best. He let his hair grow out, called himself Dandelion the Poet, performed his new songs even louder and strutted around the world like he owned it. Until now it had worked perfectly well. He just needed to spent the rest of his coin at the market for some might-come-in-handy supplies, collect his friend and would be on his way towards the rocky wilderness where nobody would dare to follow him.

Should be simple enough, shouldn't it?

The current problem being that Jaskier had no idea what those supplies should be and his coin was already limited from buying all the usual essentials for traveling. Looking around his eyes caught various things that seemed like good possibilities. Like a long roll of rope for example, Geralt always insisted on carrying rope with them in case one needed to secure something, say, a still bleeding monster head to a poor horse or a bard to a tree to keep him from following the witcher on a hunt. A second coat was always an advantage, especially since his companion at the inn didn't have one, but then again it was summer and the days and night were warm enough. Additional food wouldn't be a bad choice either, dried meat and fruits wrapped in beeswax sheets could last a while and if carefully portioned keep them from going hungry on days, but Jaskier was quite proud of his foraging skills and cooking usually wasn't a problem for him. He sighed and looked around further. A sister of the nearby temple was selling blessed charms to be placed on the little shrines of Melitele that could be found at almost every crossroad. The little parchment packages with herbs would be a good idea but Jaskier also incredibly fancied the the beautifully crafted hat with it's wide brim and ornate feather.

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Hi there! I'm so excited for this!!! ❤ and as always

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#the witcher #witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #road to kaer morhen fic #jaskier #jaskier the bard

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utilitycaster · 7 months

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I've been seeing complaints that Spenser was 'trying too hard to kill the cast' this episode, which I have to say I wildly disagree with, but I will admit to be a little confused why the players sometimes took one or even two marks after rolling a six. Or I guess I'm not confused so much as I wonder if the mechanics for injury, success, failure, etc could be too vague atm? Candela doesn't really have anything like CR rating or DC which it doesn't NEED, but I guess could create some grey area?

Good question! Here's the secret: all TTRPGs I'd consider worth my time have a huge swathe of gray area, D&D very much included (indeed, I find a lot of the more baseless criticisms of D&D, especially from Game Based Heavily On D&D But Different fans (derogatory) to come from people mad at that gray area) and as long as the players and GM have agreed on it, it's fine. With that said I admit that paying attention to individual rolls is not what I am inclined, personally, to do, but if this is about Sean rolling a six and taking two body...that is because he was going to take four body off the bat and reduced it with a good roll that the GM permitted him. (It also might be about Marion taking in the rift, which was similarly stated beforehand to cost him a Bleed scar no matter what he rolled, the roll reflecting how successful he was.) Now, we can talk about the implications of taking four body seemingly out of nowhere, but do recall that is coming off an earlier 1 roll in his interaction with Duncan.

CR ratings generally are a poor understanding of difficulty, and the thing about DCs is you can set them arbitrarily high (or for that matter, secretly low). Like...to use D&D, you cannot make a persuasion check for someone who dislikes you to give you all their belongings and run away forever. The DM is going to set the persuasion check at 50 and it is going to be unreachable by any means. Even a nat 20 will give you a result of "they think you're joking and laugh it off instead of run after you with a sword." If you jump off a sufficiently high cliff in D&D and roll a nat 20 to land, you still might take enough damage to die during your three-point landing. And so on.

So: while we don't have all the rules of Candela Obscura, it is valid from my knowledge of the Forged in the Dark engine, which Illuminated Worlds was heavily influenced by, for Spenser to say "this action is unbelievably dangerous and there is no possible way you are escaping unscathed, and a full success means that you live to tell the tale with only a gunshot wound or bleed damage rather than outright death." That's the other thing: completely valid for the GM to come in planning to kill the players. That's the premise of EXU Calamity. I would assume the table discussed that this was going to be a much darker and more dangerous game than Chapter 1 and everyone shares those expectations, and is prepared to possibly lose these characters. Which is, frankly, another thing that comes up specifically in actual play: what the table knows and expects and is prepared to accept is often something much harsher than the audience is prepared to accept. I mentioned being irritated at the presumptive nature of a lot of safety tool discussion (and am feeling very validated by Spenser's tweet about how he handled the letters to Sean) but like...when the CR or D20 or Candela tables prepare for their games, they have talked about expectations of tone and whether the GM will be trying to gently usher new players to victory, flat out gunning for a potential TPK, or somewhere in between.

This was a long, pre-full dose of caffeine way to say that one of the biggest rules of GM-ing is that the GM sets the tone of which the danger and difficulty of the world is part, and also that, based on everything about how this chapter has been presented, if someone accuses Spenser of being very hard on the party my answer is "...yeah, no shit, did you fail to realize that from the tone and text of literally every trailer and interview?"

#answered #Anonymous #candela obscura #i don't necessarily think the people making this complaint are No Combat D&D People. but also. they give off that air.#that But TTRPGs Are Supposed To Be About How Cool My PC Is and it's like. you can do that at your table #some of us want to experience catharsis through fiction though hope this helps

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pipsipey17 · 1 year

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till the next multiverse.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader main masterlist | playlist summary: you grieved her death for a long while until you saw her again.

contains: mentions of death, alcohol use, and smoking. painful angst but with a happy ending.

i recommend listening to this song while reading this for more feels.

You tripped Natasha using your explosive arrows, making her roll to the side and making it your opportunity to run off the cliff. You maintained eye contact with her as you ran, but once you jumped you felt her grab you from behind and she activated her grappling hook.

You held your girlfriend’s wrist as she continued to shake your hand to make you let go of her. “Let me go.” Natasha whispered softly as she looked at you with her emerald eyes.

“No please, don’t leave me.” You said as tears started to form in your eyes.

“It’s okay, I love you Y/N.” Natasha then proceeded to push herself off, making her swing a bit and making you fully lose your grip on her wrist.

You saw every second of her falling to her death, you closed your eyes for a moment and when you opened them once again you saw a glimpse of her lifeless body on the very bottom of the cliff of Vormir, you saw that there was a pool of her own blood surrounding her head. Thunder suddenly roared and lightning began to appear and you became unconscious.

Your eyes snapped open and you immediately sat up, you saw that you were laying on water but then you felt something in your hand, you checked your hand and saw that you finally have the soul stone, but it took a life before you could get it.

Your eyes welled up once more, “Natasha!!” you yelled, releasing all of your sadness and anger during that moment. Your tears streamed down and you cried loudly, grieving the death of your partner in crime, your best friend and the love of your life. She was gone, forever.

“Does she have any family?” Tony asked and the truth is, you didn’t know if she really had any family or not, all you know was that she once had a fake family back then because of a 3 year mission for the Red Room. She would mention her somewhat ‘sister’ Yelena from time to time to you or Clint, but other than that you really have no clue.

Natasha wanted her sister to be kept a secret from the others for her sister’s safety. In respect to her wishes, you just shook your head in response but thankfully Steve suddenly said, “Yeah, us.”

“As long as we have the stones we can bring her back, right?” Thor said as he paced around the small dock by the lake where you were with the other Avengers.

“It can’t be undone, it can’t, at least that’s what the red floating guy said.” You said in a raised tone then you sighed deeply, “She sacrificed herself for the stone and there is no way we can bring her back.” tears started to sting your eyes once again after saying those words.

Bruce threw a bench across the lake in anger, “We have to make her sacrifice worth it.” he said as he faced you.

Steve stood up and said, “Don’t worry, we will.” then you smiled sadly at them.

The war with Thanos was over, earth and the rest of the universe was finally safe once again. As promised by Steve her death didn’t go in vain as well as the deaths of others whom you lost during the war including Tony Stark. Death of some of the members of your supposedly family pained you, but Natasha’s death really shattered your heart into a thousand pieces.

You haven’t been able to grieve or mourn properly because of the war that was going on and the second you got the freedom to do so, you fully grieved.

The first few weeks were the worst, you didn’t feel like doing anything, you even lost your appetite, you would do some daily routines here and there but it was like you were moving like a robot.

The other Avengers were concerned with your coping mechanisms, you would drink bottles of alcohol until you would eventually fall asleep, you would also smoke cigarettes until you would finish a pack or two. They tried to help you with your coping mechanisms but nothing seemed to work, thankfully though when Wanda talked to you, you decided to stop, realizing that it was indeed unhealthy.

Nowadays you are feeling better, all thanks to Wanda and the other Avengers who supported you step by step in stopping your alcohol and cigarette dependency. You wouldn’t drink bottles of alcohol anymore, you only settle for a bottle and as for the cigarettes, you would only now smoke at least two to three sticks. You now even contacted Yelena to help you to set up a gravestone for Natasha to somehow show respect to her name and it was the least you could do for her after she sacrificed herself not only for you but for everyone.

“I miss her.” you said as you were standing in front of Natasha’s gravestone.

You hear Yelena sigh beside you, “I miss her too. I just wish we had more time together, you know?” you nodded in response knowing full well what happened in their past, “All those wasted years in that fucking Red Room.”

“She always talked about you,” You said which made Yelena eye you curiously, “She would always tell me childhood stories of the both of you, she would also tell me about the time when you guys met again back in Budapest.”

Yelena smiled, “She did the same to me, back when she was in Budapest she told me all about you, how you guys met and how you guys fell in love. The details were too cheesy if you ask me, I honestly didn’t expect my sister to be a cheesy person but that just means that she really did love you.” She said to you and it made you smile sadly.

You suddenly remembered the time when you broke up. It was when the Avengers were wanted criminals by the government. You honestly hated every single second of it during those days, it was torturous, you just wanted to be with each other but for the sake of the both of you, you splitted up. Then eventually, you got back together before the war.

Comfortable silence fell on the both of you as you remained standing in front of Natasha’s gravestone, “My offer still stands, Yelena, if you need a place to stay, you can stay at the compound.”

Yelena shook her head, “I don't know if I can stay at the place where the people who live there are sort of responsible for my sister’s death.” Yelena immediately realized what she said and then chimed, “No offense.”

“None taken.” You simply replied.

~~~

The afterlife was peaceful, but it was not a home for Natasha, it never will be without you.

As she was walking around she saw a familiar figure in the distance, “Tony?” she said, which made the man turn to her direction revealing that it was indeed Tony, “Nat?” Tony said and Natasha ran towards him.

Natasha hugged Tony, “Why are you here?” Natasha asked but suddenly realized that Tony died too.

“Did we win?” Natasha asked and Tony nodded in response, Natasha’s eyes then started to sting because of the tears forming in her eyes, “You were supposed to live.” she said with a choked sob.

Tony placed his hand on her shoulder, “It’s okay, we can rest now.” he said and he smiled at her making Natasha smile back.

“I miss them.” Natasha said quietly which made Tony look at her teasingly, “Do you really miss them or only her?”

Natasha chuckled, “Of course I miss them, I just miss Y/n more.”

“Well, what if I told you that you could go back and be with the Avengers and Y/n again?” Tony said, which made Natasha scoff, “That’s ridiculous Tony, we’re dead, we can’t be brought back to life.”

A shine of bright light suddenly appeared in the sky but it slowly got bigger and bigger as if it was about to envelop Natasha, “What’s that?” she asked Tony.

“You’ll see.” Tony simply replied then he smiled at Natasha.

Natasha’s eyes immediately flew open, she sat up and saw that she was laying in a pool of water, she then looked around and realized that she was back in Vormir the place where she died.

She is alive, she has been revived, she can go back to earth and live her life once again.

She thought of how she can get back to earth, but then realized that she can go back the same way they went to Vormir in the first place, she just hopes that they didn’t close the portal yet.

~~~

There was a beeping sound coming from the controls of the portal Sam immediately rushed to the controls, “Clint, we’re getting some signal from Vormir.”

“Really? From who?” Clint asked.

“It’s… wait, there must be some mistake,” Sam’s eyes widened, “The signal’s from Natasha.”

“It could be someone else, open the portal and be prepared to fight.”

“Are we really going to risk this?” Sam asked.

“What other choice do we have? Just stay on your guard and we’ll be fine.”

Sam then proceeded to open the portal and a few moments later someone came out of the portal wearing the Avengers suit and later revealed that it was indeed Natasha.

Clint stood still too in shock to move, “Nat? Is that really you?”

Natasha smiled, “Hi Clint,” she said as she rushed to him and hugged him.

Natasha looked at Sam and said, “Hey Sam.”

“H-hey.” Sam simply said feeling a bit shy around Natasha.

“How are you alive?” Clint asked Natasha and she replied, “It’s a long story but let's just say that I’ve been revived.”

“Y/n’s going to be so happy to see you.” Clint said which made Natasha smile.

You just got back from the cemetery and you immediately heard noises coming from the other side of the compound, you rushed to where the noises came from thinking there was danger but you saw that everyone was there and Wanda was smiling as soon as you entered the room, “What’s all the ruckus about?” you asked Wanda.

Wanda didn’t reply but she looked to the side making you look in the same direction she was looking as well and then you saw the person you thought you would never see again, the love of your life.

“N-Nat, y-you’re alive?” you stammered and Natasha nodded. You ran to her and hugged her tightly, happy tears were now flowing from your face, “I missed you so much.” you muffled as you continued to embrace each other for a while.

“I missed you too, moya lyubov. I love you.” Natasha said and you replied, “I love you too, Natty.” then she kissed you with so much passion and everyone cheered happily seeing the two of you back together again.

Even death can’t separate the two of you, if this is how soulmates are defined then you can definitely say that the one and only Natasha Romanoff is your soulmate.

#natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow #black widow movie #black widow x yn #marvel x y/n #marvel imagines #marvel #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagines #avengers

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chainelunaire · 11 months

Text

are they up for a one-night stand?

shigaraki

he wishes that was him. no, he’s not, purely because he has no idea what and how to do, and his pride won’t let him embarrass himself like that. he has some reputation yk and he’s kinda busy. yet he can’t help but wonder if that’s another thing he’s missed up on with all his villainy stuff. it’s not often when he thinks about it, more when he sees someone who’s kind of his type, and then he wonders what’s next, because not that he can afford relationship either. even if he seeks intimacy (more of a platonic way actually), he still probably won’t do that. it’ll take a lot of courage for him to take the risk, he also probably needs to be a little bit tipsy unless he’ll just be too anxious. if he actually does that, he will regret it later. probably because his expectations did not meet the reality, and deep inside he might feel used. will pretend it never happened.

dabi

no, for a number of reasons. first and the most obvious one: his body is kinda not suitable for basically anything rather than burning him from inside. he’s strong, yet fragile. he even cries with blood, can you imagine how painful sex can be for him? his body needs a lot of care, any damage is long lasting and costs a lot. in a long run it’s not worth it. giving himself to a stranger he just met? you kidding. he simply can not afford the luxury of unexpectedly destroying his body after years of planning his revenge. this is pure stupidity to him. secondly, he’s kinda simply not interested? he’s too fixated on his revenge, he also does not view himself as he is now. his body is his tool, he does not see the appeal of it. he would never think he’s attractive, let alone attractive enough for someone to want to have sex with him. he’ll probably think you’re making fun of him, which is not great at all. and lastly, dude has Trust Issues. even if we put aside reasons above, he won’t let himself be vulnerable with somebody he does not know and trusts. it simply won’t happen, sorry.

overhaul

it’s hilarious you even thought there’s a possibility. no. never. he’ll sooner throw himself off the cliff than let if happen. he’s getting angry simply thinking about it. what angers him even more, is that a certain someone might think that he’ll disregard his own safety for a promise of pleasure. first of all, what makes you think you’ll know what he likes right from the get-go, second, he does not touch people to save their lives you know. no. not happening.

hawks

he’s had his fair share of flings, and he knows the drill, yet he rarely finds that it was worth it. he’s very good with keeping his feelings in check, so he won’t get attached, and that’s kinda the problem. he feels like he’s sort of a cheater, actually. simply because he does not find that intimacy by knowing the person well enough, yet pretending he does, because he’s a gentleman like that. he’s a giver, and that’s kind of his curse in that case, because he’s very aware of his lies. and yk, he knows he’s been lied to too, that’s sort of the point, in order of getting some sexual pleasure you say what you need to be said. he’s fine with it in the moment, but later he starts to feel really shitty. he doesn’t feel guilty, though, he knows he’s not bad. it’s just like he’s getting yet another reminder of the lack of some true bond in his life and since that’s what he really wants, it stings really bad. he feels like he’s betraying himself, sort of. yet, he rarely says no to an opportunity. he actually hopes, that this time he’ll feel differently. he thinks like that every single time.

aizawa

he’s a true master. he can’t afford decent relationship right now, and he’s in peace with it and with his life as a whole. in general, he’s very balanced, he’s not anxious or desperate. he knows, what he’s doing. gentle in a sense that he won’t make it feel like you have been used, he’ll probably take you to a some nice place, so no fucking near trash cans, unless it’s some kink of yours. he’s very generous and he’s detached enough so you won’t from him ever again. that’s actually a bad news for you: he’s not doing it again, his goodbye is quite literal. so enjoy it while it lasts. anyway, 10/10 expirience, would recommend.

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plaguedocboi · 17 days

Note

love your bathphobia posts!!! was jumpscared by huntington gorge being (very validly) acknowledged on your deadly waterfalls post

honestly, a large chunk of swimming holes throughout the state had had a lot of injuries if not deaths at them! if you look up dangerous vermont swimming holes, the state’s department of health had to release a safe swimming guide because that’s such a big issue (mostly regarding tourists and out-of-staters, but we can all use a reminder)

the other one I’ve heard a lot about is bolton potholes, which has also been named the devil’s potholes 🫡 every year the local facebook groups I’m in have multiple people posting reminders that PEOPLE HAVE DIED HERE and MULTIPLE PEOPLE GET INJURED HERE A YEAR and that there are plenty of other swimming holes that are safer to enjoy. I’ve never personally been, but I’d like to (safely) check it out one day

admittedly, I’m pretty sure a sizeable amount of the injuries at swimming holes around the state are from tourists that don’t know what safe conditions look like or how to gauge that. my rule of thumb is to try to look to see what the locals are doing. people that frequent the areas and who are more familiar with these spots will have better insight on when/if it’s safe to swim and jump

and for the love of god to anyone that cliff jumps (which includes me)- DO A DEPTH CHECK FIRST FOR FUCKS SAKE!!! please do not jump unless you have thoroughly made sure it is deep enough to do so and that the current (if there is one) will not threaten your ability to get back to the surface or bank. I love cliff jumping as much as other adrenaline junkies but don’t risk your safety for the thrill

also I shouldn’t have to say this but do NOT swim in swimming holes after a heavy rain. that is tempting fate fr, you need to wait until the water calms down

(wrote a whole longass ask on anon with links and then realized it won’t submit things with links on anon and lost it all 😭 I tried my best to write what I had before. I just didn’t want ppl to see where I was from lol)

This longass ask has great information and I hope that if nothing else my posts will raise awareness about water safety because people die needlessly all the time just because they underestimate how powerful water is.

Even popular “swimming holes” are not swimming pools; if it’s a natural body of water, it can have currents or other dangerous conditions that could harm or kill you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good swimmer, you need to be careful about where and when you swim.

Also I did look at the potholes when I was researching the waterfall post, they were definitely on the list of places that didn’t quite make the cut but were definitely considered. Swimming holes like these might be beautiful but they can be very very dangerous.

#asks #bathophobia

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fascinatedscrawls · 6 days

Text

Phic Phight Prompt: The Box Ghost, aka the most un-frightening pathetic nuisance ever, is actually incredibly powerful compared to the average ghost.

Word Count: 1910

For @phantomphangphucker

Summary: After dying in a warehouse collapse, one ghost sets out to make the ghost zone OSHA Compliant one box at a time.

Working with a couple different crews and shifts for a decade or two means getting used to going by a nickname or three. He's not one to linger on the past, but when he thinks back he's pretty sure that there was a stretch of time where he didn't hear his legal name for weeks, possibly months, so adapting to this new green dimension where no one can get his name right isn't difficult.

Or, the name thing isn't.

Asking everyone to call him the Box Ghost is easier than correcting their pronunciation of his actual name. Everyone around here seems to be going by one title after another - so Boxy (his favorite nickname that the others have given him here, but unfortunately too close to other's monikers to use as an introduction) keeps it simple for his own benefit. Explaining things can get frustrating and having to do so repeatedly is boring, so Box Ghost it is!

Making a habit of introducing himself every time he sees someone isn't a new habit, but it makes itself useful here even if he doesn't have nearly as much trouble remembering ghostly faces as he did human ones.

So introductions - easy!

Needing to sound threatening to get his point across? That's more difficult to get used to. Boxy doesn't exactly like fighting, not after losing the few fights he got into when he was alive. But, if a few threatening words is all it takes to make this place safer, he can put on the act.

Because this place - the Infinite Realms - they're sorely in need of his help.

Back when he was alive, Boxy watched countless safety videos and participated in even more inspections over the course of his career. He rolled his eyes, slouching his way through the required checks, going over lists and participating in drills before getting on with his actual work. While he and the others were careful with the boxes they handled (as they'd be on the hook if they weren't), they usually just made jokes about the old cracked and slowly bowing walls. They weren't in charge and it wasn't hurting anyone, what was the harm?

He knew the harm now.

He might not have blood these days, but Boxy swears he can feel it boiling whenever he sees cracked, bending, and broken walls. Can feel the ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth when he looks at sagging, leaking, and collapsed roofs.

The numerous cliffs hanging out into the swirling, glowing abyss he can't do anything about, but the all the other places where these ghosts live - those he can fix.

Newly dead, he tried suggesting improvements he remembered from before. Tried providing examples he'd seen in practice. Tried offers to fix the old castles, the burnt homes, the cracked caverns only to be fought tooth and nail at every turn - often literally. Fighting back was instinct, one he fought more than the other ghosts whose homes he was clearly insulting.

He smothered the impulse right up until the first time he was thrown through a stone wall.

Boxy still doesn't quite remember what happened directly after that, only the result and the result was very good.

When he came to every wall in the area was square, the rooms complete, the roof secure, and the ghost who lived there? Well, they were a little worse for wear, but they brushed off his concerned look with something between a shrug and a shudder.

"Warn a guy." They had said or, rather, muttered before flying into their now safer home and slamming the door.

So Boxy took their words to heart.

"Beware!" He greeted others as he found more buildings in need of his help. "I am the Box Ghost!"

The practice of holding his hands up in a mild threat came later, after a lot more fights followed by a short run of successes - each of which ended with the other ghost cringing away from him.

Boxy still isn't fond of threatening people. He does this for their safety and the safety of others - so that no one ends up like he did, but if that's the only way to keep everyone safe he'll play his part.

Besides, maybe after this he'll move on to what is clearly his true calling - acting! His old coworkers always used to make fun of his attempts to act, but with just a few words and an exaggerated angry gesture or two he seems to be pulling of 'threat' really well!

Then again, maybe he'll stay off the stage. His ghostly powers don't lend themselves to it in the way he's seen with others. He can fly, but he can't teleport. He can stand up to other's blows, but he can't shapeshift or take on their faces.

His powers mostly lie in his interests, which doesn't seem uncommon in the Infinite Realms.

He can move himself - handy for getting around. He can move boxes - something he's so familiar with he could do it in his sleep even before his death, though not having to touch them is something he still delights in. And, most importantly, he can bring buildings up to code.

This last one is by far the trickiest to do. It's hard to explain what he does and how he does it in words. It's something similar to how he always knows which stack of boxes aren't stacked correctly even when they look secure. He can feel the fault lines, taste the breaking points, smell the way the not-gravity of this place pulls on a structure.

He chose 'The Box Ghost' not only because boxes are, obviously, amazing, but because boxes hold up to the pressures of this place better than other shapes. The right angles, the rigid sides, when put together just right they can stand up even under dragon fire or unexpected island collisions.

Of course, leaning into his name and specialties leads to strange consequences.

Something about this place, it twists things. It took a while for him to notice, but the strength of his boxy architecture is improving, but not without cost. He thought it was just experience, but then he tried to keep the shape of a tower as he improved it and something about the rounded walls made it fall apart.

The fight he had with the owner for causing the tower to crumble was less memorable than the testing that needed to be done after that (sure the guy could turn into a dragon, but his castle was more than big enough to trap him in). With his mastery of all things square and box like, Boxy specialized to the point of being unable to not make things square.

It isn't a huge problem, most purposefully non-square things were built with more thought than the broken down buildings he needs to fix, but it is annoying at times.

He doesn't give it much thought after that, other than making a note to tell ghosts of his cubic specialty when he introduces himself, so he continues his campaign, hoping that one day he can share the burden of this quest to ensure safety in the Infinite Realms. Looking back at all those videos and checklists he knows that this isn't a one-person job, he needs the government to get in on it for his work to be effective.

Unfortunately, any attempts he's made to speak to those in charge either leave him with new clients or with frustratingly few answers.

"The king is in forever sleep," is not the answer he's looking for, especially when he's trying to confirm what kind of building codes are currently in use in this place. As more people hear of him, Boxy finds both more and less resistance to his safety crusade. Some invite him in meekly, while others refuse to bend to his (clearly terrifying) threats, instead posing some honestly, quite reasonable questions about the safety of the buildings he's putting in place.

It's while he's trying to find this justification that he comes across the permanent portal for the first time.

"This doesn't belong here!" Surely they'd have some permits up and posted if such a thing was supposed to be built in the middle of a thoroughfare like this! It's not Boxy's first interaction with a portal, but it's certainly the first man-made one he's seen. He takes the time to inspect it from every angle - the only roughly octagonal shape, the poor welds on the metal, the lack of safety measures - it's horrible! And probably beyond his (non-existent) pay grade.

He turns to go report this to the scary knight who guards the king's castle only to nearly get run over by another ghost gunning for the portal.

When he straightens up, he finds himself in a nightmare of safety violations. Boxy stares in horror at the clearly DIY walls, the uneven floors, the stairs with steps that are clearly too tall.

Sure, there's a lot of sciency things scattered around the place in ways that look dangerous, but Boxy isn't familiar with that side of things. He disregards it in favor of what he knows how to fix.

So, of course, that's when the alarms go off. The portal slams shut behind him and lights start flashing. A recording blares too loud for Boxy to understand, but he's done enough drills that he knows what to do.

Quickly, quietly, Boxy exits the building and heads for a safer area.

He waits for a handful of minutes before realizing it wasn't a fire alarm after all and the fire department won't be coming to give an all-clear. Normally he'd head back, but the extra time outside has let him realize where he is.

The realm of the living!

There are side walks! Rows of homes, most of them safe and square! For a moment each of the box like suburban homes glows as he happily resonates with the cubic structures.

It cuts off as a delivery truck drives past.

Boxy's attention is captured especially when he realizes the boxes within are filled with books.

Books! Books in Boxes! Books are just what he was looking for - now he can get examples of building codes for the king whenever he wakes up!

He dives into the delivery truck and gets so lost in the ecstasy of so many good, old-fashioned, cardboard boxes, neatly and professionally stacked inside a box truck that he only comes back to himself after he's introduced himself to someone - warning, threatening gestures and all.

After so many successful fights it's a shock when the white haired teen bests him so easily. Then again, just as the boxes and that truck seemed to energize him, the cylindrical capture device the child pulls on him seems to sap the fight right out of him.

It seems like no time at all before he's back in the zone, staring at that misshapen portal once again. It may be a safety hazard, but that won't stop the Box Ghost. He'll brave the portal and fight as many times as he needs to in order to get the books necessary (and maybe a few more boxes, as a treat) to fix all the broken parts of this Realm.

When the Ghost King wakes up and starts managing this place again, the Box Ghost will be first in line to talk to him - together they'll make this place safe for all ghosts!

#phic phight 2024 #the box ghost #danny phantom #one shot #phantomphangphucker

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kagedbird · 20 days

Text

Cicero Loves You, Listener! TESSDE AU - Dark Brotherhood route

~ [First] ~ [Next] ~ [Prev] ~

Something had gone wrong while we were up on the cliff.

I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it. It felt like we were being watched. I was certain the others could feel it to, with the way Inigo’s tail whipped up a storm, ears flicked back tightly against his skull; Lucien nervously kept checking over his shoulder, waiting for something to pop out; Kaidan scanning the horizon line repeatedly for anyone in the close vicinity or far distance.

I couldn’t hold back my own shivers of discomfort as we slowed our pace, feeling very much like we were being corralled to something.

We were not too far from Falkreath, in Reachmen territory. Normally, according to my boys, this usually spelt disaster. But I’d managed to make friends with many of the tribes in the area, and they’d given us clear passage by warning others that we weren’t to be harmed.

They really enjoyed my hurdy gurdy songs I’d shared the first time.

Due to this safety net, however, I knew it wasn’t them stalking us like prey. Shepherded closer and closer to the edge of a cliffside, my hands felt clammy while holding the grip of Kaidan’s bow, and I felt as taut as the bowstring along my entire body.

I just wished something would happen, so we could get it over with all ready!

Suspense was my most despised form of horror. Not knowing when the other shoe would drop raised my anxiety levels too high; pulse skyrocketing in my veins. Sahloknir and Mirmulnir could hardly contain Nahagliiv with the amount of turmoil coiling through me, try as I might to douse it with vague hope.

My heart was palpitating and squeezing too tightly. My mouth felt like cotton had taken over to live on my tongue, and I felt sweat trickle down the base of my arms. I was sure to have an anxiety attack before long if this kept up.

Inigo whipped around, bow drawn, a snarl on his face as we all turned to see what had caught his attention.

But there was nothing in the area behind us.

I whipped my head back around— equal parts sure it had been a diversion, as well as thinking I had heard something this time— only to find nothing yet again. Sequestered between two boulders that hugged the edge of the cliff precariously, we all waited, as still as our breathing, for anything to happen.

…And waited.

…

…And waited still.

Despite nothing happening, none of us were willing to look away and untense to let our guards drop. We’d been through too much for that. We knew better— even Lucien, who I could tell was struggling to keep still.

I swallowed thickly again, trying to hear anything beyond the beating of my blood in my ears. We were on our way back to Whiterun, and all I wanted to do was to fall into Bren’s arms and rest with my family. I wanted to go home and cook for them and not think about being the Dragonborn for five minutes. Not have to think about the Gods that pestered me endlessly about saving the world.

I wanted a break. Not to break.

Kaidan shuffled in place, the sound of his gloves creaking from his grip sounding like blaring sirens in the stillness. Lucien’s breathing was tight, fire alight along his fingers and palms. And though no longer drawn fully to conserve energy, Inigo was still poised and at the ready to shoot anything that remotely popped up out of the blue.

I could feel my magicka swirling just under the surface of my skin, aching to be let out and released, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I couldn’t draw eyes to us just because of this tension. It would only give whatever was out there a hidden third party to kill us all the easier.

I was growing weary with every passing minute though. Why wait this long? Why drag it out? Were they even there anymore?

The temptation to call out grew more and more, but I could hear my sister berating me for outing myself to an enemy and risking my team. So I continued biting my tongue and kept my eyes peeled—

There. A shadow had moved behind the boulder on the right, I had seen it. I silently nudged Inigo and Kaidan, as they were closest to me, and nodded towards that boulder. They nodded back, eyes sharp, as I slowly moved to Lucien’s side to warn him as well.

What I hadn’t anticipated was the sudden and sharp whistle from a fired arrow racing towards me, catching me in the shoulder in mere moments.

All hell broke loose. Kaidan and Inigo immediately went on the hunt, shouting out war cries as they raced after the perceived threat, while Lucien caught me as I fell into his arms. I stumbled, knees hitting the dirt and small rocks painfully; my hand reaching up to the arrow that was surely sunk into my muscle.

Another whistle, I couldn’t think, I just shoved Lucien down, watching as the next arrow shuddered into the dirt behind us.

“RUN!” I screamed past the stranglehold on my throat, getting up as fast as I possibly could and dragged Lucien up with me.

“Where?!” He yelped back, stumbling upright and hurried off as I pushed him.

“Anywhere! Serpentine! Just run!” I croaked. Anxiety was clawing at my insides— I couldn’t think.

Another arrow just barely missed Lucien’s foot as he dodged left, leaving him yelping again. I turned to the direction the arrows were firing from, but saw nothing but open spaces.

Wait—

Along the ground of the cliffside, there were specific pocket markings, as if the dirt had been turned over. Risking the spare moments between an archer’s reload time, I could see that the motions continued in a semi-circle from one boulder to the other.

Exactly covering the section only I remained standing on.

My pupils were dilated as time slowed down. In his haste, Lucien’s feet ripped up the dirt from behind him, loose as it was, sending trickles of it throughout the air.

Another arrow just missed him, sending him skating further beyond the line.

A trap.

I went to run— I needed to get out of here— but another arrow stopped me in my tracks as it pierced my thigh. I screamed in pain, falling forward into the dirt, and felt it shudder under the force of my weight.

I howled in agony as I broke the arrow in my thigh, digging the arrowhead further into my skin; barely seeing past the blinding white pain of Lucien attempting to run back to me. He was stopped by dozens of arrows flying his way, keeping him trapped. Kaidan and Inigo were nowhere to be seen from my position. I couldn’t hear much past the tinnitus ringing in my head.

I was being targeted. By what? Or whom?

It didn’t matter. I needed to—!

The ground shook horrifically, just as predicted, and I turned my head to see the dirt collapsing behind me over the edge. I grabbed fistfuls of grass and dirt, desperately clawing my way across as best I could.

Lucien was braving through the storm of arrows, diving headfirst along the ground to reach out to me—

My fingertips grazed his—

He gasped in pain as his body retracted from being shot in the side again and again; eyes peering widely into my own.

And I let out a terrified scream as my body plummeted down, down, down below.

#skyrim #tesblr #TESSDE AU #Dark Brotherhood #tes oc #Kaidan Skyrim #Lucien Skyrim #Inigo Skyrim #Allora #Dragonborn oc #Starting off strong!!! >:3c

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bellafragolina · 1 year

Note

Wanderer!Reader

Hisui is a vast place, and it can’t only be occupied by the two clans and the village, yes? There aren’t many travellers, the only ones of notice being the Gingko Guild.

You, however, just like to wander. You travel by yourself, the only companions being Pokémon you’ve befriended along the way. People are exhausting, so you prefer it that way.

You don’t own any pokéballs because the knowledge of them hasn’t been passed around yet.

So one day you’re just hiking up the mountains when you come across a tall, yet slouching, figure ahead of you shouting. Upon closer look, you see that it’s a male wearing very torn and ragged clothes that look foreign to you, specifically the cap and coat.

- yui.anon

I’m rereading this and I’m starting to think you were just chatting about it instead of requesting a drabble. If that’s so then sorry! Have a drabble as an apology!!

🍓🍓🍓

The man notices you the moment you notice him. The cap he wears shades his eyes, but their still bright, if tired. Sharp silver pierces your skin, so you stop, a hand atop the Arcanine at your side. Your hiking companion growls at the new person, not soothed by your gentle pets.

“Good morning!”

The greeting bellows through the quiet mountains. You jerk back, ready to flee or fight, whatever the situation calls for. Arcanine barks again, smoke billowing from his mouth at the threat the man poses.

To his credit, the man backs away too, eyes wide beneath that brim. His hands are up, showing you his scarred palms as a sign of surrender, of having no arms or weapons. You relax a little, but not Arcanine. It steps forward to protect you, still spewing smoke crackling with embers.

“My apologies!” The man says, voice quieter now. He glances away, then pulls his brim down to hide his eyes. You relax further. “I didn’t mean to frighten you! I don’t often meet travelers out here.”

You cock your head. The man straightens, and does a strange pose. Both arms fire out, one pointing at you while the other points down.

“None the matter!” He says, his eyes bright again. “I will conduct you to your destination, dear traveler!”

“I’m a wanderer.” You correct gently, stroking Arcanine again. The lack of attack has it slowly easing off of its haunches. “So I don’t have a destination.” You rake your gaze down his attire, unashamed of your stare. The man squirms in place, but you’re able to see his tattered coat and clan uniform, as well as. . . “What’s that on your belt?”

The man pauses, glancing at his belt. There’s a wooden object sitting there, one he pulls off with ease. You creep a bit closer as he holds it out. The wood is two different shades, and there’s a clasp on it in the center seam.

“A Poké Ball.” The man tells you.

“A Poké Ball.” You repeat. You creep closer still. Arcanine makes gruff noises, voicing its obvious displeasure, but follows. “And what is it for?”

“To catch Pokémon.” The man says. Your silence has him squirming again. “Er, you throw one at a Pokémon, and it. . . catches them. And then you have it for your team. To battle.”

“Why would you need one?” You ask. “Do your Pokémon not follow you like mine?”

The man opens his mouth, then closes it again. His eyes are on your shoulder. Based on the sharp tingling you can feel, your Magnemite is peeking out of your bag at the new person.

“Er, well. . .” The man seems unsure of what to say. You smile at him. “I suppose they do. . .”

“Strange what the future holds.” You muse to yourself, turning to head down the cliff face. Arcanine and Magnemite are at your heels, or shoulders, in Magnemite’s case. “Goodbye.”

“Wait!” The shout makes you pause. To your surprise, the man follows you. Arcanine’s growling has no effect on him, for soon he’s at your side. “I will accompany you down the mountain. Safety checks are needed to ensure your safe passage!”

You cock a brow. “I will be fine. I’m a wanderer.”

“I will accompany you!” The man says, finality in his voice. You watch him start in the direction you were headed in a moment again. “Mind the rails. All aboard!”

Of course, you think to yourself, he lives here all alone. You’ve discovered the mountain madman.

Well, at least the trip will be interesting.

🍓🍓🍓

We love a slow build up. Ingo, alone in the mountains, immediately crushing on the wanderer he finds. The wanderer, thinking he’s insane and humoring him to not get bitten.

True love <3

~Renee

#yui anon #warden ingo x reader #ingo x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #submas x reader

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dathomirdumpsterfire · 5 months

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Chat writes the plot! Time for more 👑🐲🐟 KotD!

(I realize we might have to retcon a bit if the vote goes certain ways, but I didn't want to limit you guys. Have fun, go nuts, describe to everyone your perfect stewjon head canon, no matter how unique!)

Want to be on the tag list? Have an idea for next chapter? Clicked the wrong option? Reblog or Comment! New? Check the very bottom for the Ao3 link. Latest chapter is down below the cut!🔥

~King of the Dragonfish: Chapter 8~

Not far from the cave system, in the opposite direction of the geothermal vents, is a living grave. Every now and again one of Naboo's massive oceanic beasts meets it's end to natural causes, and sinks into the deep. Here, new life is born.

This particular corpse of a ketho whale has been here longer than Maul has, and with it's slothful rate of decomposition, it may very well be here after he's gone. The deep water chill keeps the body all but frozen, as the mound of it feeds billions of tiny lives. Starfish, squid, shrimp, eels, octopus, crab, manta, and more. No other places in the deep sea have as much variety of life as the grave mounds do.

To Darth Maul, this place is his personal grocery store.

“Hmmm,” the sith hums, floating upside-down and perusing the options.

His favorite are the shrimp. Individual mouthfuls that crunch pleasantly. But can a Kenobi eat a shrimp? He knuckles his forehead, trying hard to remember. So much of Before was lost to him. The jedi was... human? Possibly?

…did humans eat shrimp?

He couldn't recall.

Annoyed, he makes a note to demand answers, later, and gathers a sampling for now. The brown tree fruit… whatever it was called… the inside was not nourishing enough to survive on, he knew that much.

With a sweep of the force the sith lord selects his victims. A few plush crabs, half a colony of little blue shrimp, a few colorful yellow and black fish that he knew tasted buttery and sweet, with a long eel-

He recalls, suddenly, eating barbeque eel on… on… the home place. The red world, with swamps and cliffs.

Maul catches two more eels, wondering if he can make them taste like… before. Perhaps he would cook his food for once? Some of this would need to be heated for the jedi to even stomach it. Probably.

With his catch writhing and confused in an intangible net of force, the dragonfish sith turns back for the warren of caves and tunnels.

He arrives to find the jedi in just his pants and sleeveless vest, busily rinsing his inner tunics with fruit water. His much abused leather boots were clean and shiney nearby, still wet.

Maul sloughs himself up onto land, dragging dinner up with him.

“Will that not simply make your robes sticky?” he questions the other man, skeptical of the tactic.

“They're not ripe, so they're not sweet in the slightest. I'm hoping…” Kenobi shrugs, “it's an experiment. I suppose we shall see.”

“Mnh.”

The jedi stands, turning to him while wringing out the excess fluid. “What have you got there?”

Grinning, Maul tosses the panoply of pissed off sea creatures at him. “Catch.”

The noise Kenobi makes when he takes eel to the face brings such joy to him.

The creatures scrabble for safety as the jedi backflips further away from them. “Wha! Pfss- guh- MAUL!”

Wheezing with mirth, Maul recollects his catch, and presses them all on the surface of the magma rock to boil them dead.

Kenobi looks on in horror, speechless.

After a brief grilling, Maul piles the results together at the base of the slowly deforming orb, and curls up beside it to begin eating. He picks up an eel first, of course, interested to see if the cooking would make it taste like barbeque.

It does not.

It is still good though.

The jedi lays out his clothes to dry and approaches, one hand tucked into an elbow, the other cradling his chin. He mutters, “... at least it was quick,” then clears his throat before speaking up. “Is any of that for me, or was the food throwing just to be for your own entertainment?”

“It is not my fault you cannot follow simple instructions, Kenobi, but yes. Eat what you will," Maul offers, smug.

The man sinks down onto the stone floor, watchful, and starts poking through the options.

Stupid jedi. Doing something now when he is expecting it would be boring and predictable. He will wait until the other man's guard is lowered before tormenting him again. Obviously.

“Tell me, Kenobi, did the tree fruit satisfy your thirst?” he asks, popping a shrimp in his mouth and smashing it with a crunch of his many excellent teeth.

“The coconuts? Yes… thank you. The pile will last me a few days," the man returns.

Coconuts. They are called coconuts. Of course.

Kenobi picks up an eel, handling it's rubbery length with a disgruntled look. “... I don't suppose I could have a small knife? Temporarily? I need to cut this to cook it properly.”

Maul squints at him. “You are lying, jedi.”

The man huffs, holding the limp eel up, “I am not. This is an entire eel, and not a small one either. I need to remove the guts, and filet it, then grill the slices.”

“Why would you remove the guts? The organs are the best part,” he says, even more certain that Kenobi was simply making things up.

The jedi makes a face, “Hardly.”

They glare at each other for a moment before Kenobi looks away, scowling. “Fine, I shall just… eat something else.”

Maul watches him gather up the thin black and yellow fish, and levitate them on top of the rock. He… just leaves them there. For minutes. The cave starts to smell different because of it.

“Your fish is burning, jedi,” he tells the man.

“No it isn't,” Kenobi replies.

Maul rises up on the coil of his tail, looming at something like nine feet tall to peer over top of the rock and look at the crisping bodies. They aren't any more black than before, but they are turning colors.

“They are becoming brown…”

“Good,” the man says, nonsensically.

With the force, Kenobi flips them without getting up to look. The underside is significantly more brown.

The dragonfish sith sloughs back down to the floor, thoughtful. This was cooking… he had cooked, before, many times. This was right, yes… meat turned colors. It… denatured the proteins.

He doesn't know what ‘denatured’ means anymore, but the word itself remains. Maul scowls, trying to poke at the idea.

He looks up at Kenobi, “How… denatured do you need to make… the protein… to make it edible for… humans?”

The other man hums, calling the crispy fish dinner down to himself, but holding it midair for a moment as it dissipates heat. “For humans? Oh, well, I suppose it depends on their immune system. Anakin likes everything mostly raw… but I've known others that wouldn't touch anything uncooked unless it was a plant.”

Ahah. ‘their’. Kenobi was not a human himself then.

“... and your kind?” Maul asks.

“Hmm… I suppose I prefer my own dinner well done, if only for the result of warm, spiced food,” he says, and brings one of the fish closer to himself to begin nibbling. He makes a face at it. “Mng… of which this is not. I'm glad you've brought back scaleless fish, but the flavor does leave something to be desired.”

“You are lucky I feed you at all,” he tells the fool, sneering.

Kenobi sighs, “I suppose anything is better than starving. Though I would really prefer a pan, oil, and some spice to go with it, even just salt…”

Maul gives him a look.

He scoffs. “Yes yes, I know, stop making that face at me. Beggars can't be choosers, I know.”

They eat until both are full, Maul devouring considerably more than Kenobi. He dumps the extras back into the water. The remains might attract future snacks.

“Well, sith,” the jedi says from his spot beside the magma ball, “what now? I'm fed, I'm watered, I'm warm. For the moment, I'm not dying. What are you going to do with me? Torture?”

Maul grins as he returns from throwing the extra away. “Are you excited at the prospect?”

“Certainly not,” Kenobi drawls, crossing his arms.

The dragonfish sith sways closer, passing him by. The other man clearly doesn't want him at his back, so the motion forces him to turn. As Maul circles, Kenobi keeps turning to face him.

Exactly as intended.

With the jedi's attention on his face, all the way turned around from where they began, Maul draws the end of his tail up to whip at the back of Kenobi’s calves.

The jedi makes a little hop, predicting his flanking attack with the force, but he still turns to look behind him. His mistake. Maul takes that opportunity to close the distance, getting a grip on the front of beige vests. Kenobi spins back around, arms shoving outward defensively.

One of his palms slams into Maul’s sensitive gills, painfully, making the sith snarl and take a snap at the offending limb.

Kenobi tries to tumble backwards, to get away from him, but the grip on his clothes is only joined by a tail curling behind his knees, dragging the jedi in.

The prey in his grip fights him, skilled in the force and so much more interesting to subdue than the mindless wildlife outside.

Kenobi works an elbow free, and tries slamming it point first into the tail spiraling about his hips. Maul barely feels it, but he starts trying to capture that free hand all the same. While he's on that, the jedi side steps his tail, and then drops his weight heavily while pushing downward with the force.

Maul loses hold on him entirely.

The jedi folds, rolls, and does half a cartwheel, kicking him in the arm. Then he falls backwards to gain space. The sith gives him none, closing the distance again and snatching at his ankle as the other man spins away. He misses, and has to try two more grabs before he gets a hold of an elbow with a gleeful noise of success.

Kenobi attempts to bite him, with his human-similar jaw and his flat white teeth. How precious. The dragonfish sith giggles, and nips at the air near his fingers. The jedi recoils, desperate to protect the digits of his sword arm, sending a gale of force into Maul so strong it sends him toppling over backwards.

Unfortunately for the other man, he's got a good grip on Kenobi’s arm, so they both go over backwards.

Maul cackles as they fall.

Kenobi bellows.

They tussle on the floor like it's just any old bar brawl for the better part of ten minutes, until -finally- Maul's sheer tonnage and more than a dozen feet of solid muscle wins the fight for him, yet again.

He bears down on his prisoner, grinning with all his many teeth as the man cries out in pain.

“Weak jjjedi,” he croons, so close to Kenobi’s face that the green glow of his eyes illuminates both of their expressions. “I am beginning to think our first battle was a fluke. You cannot seem to best me.”

The jedi struggles under him, trying to get any limb free, fighting for every inch. “It's not my fault you weigh as much as a bantha!”

“Oh? But you like my weight.”

Kenobi shifts left, trying to wriggle his way out of the hold. “What in the blazes makes you think that?”

Maul hisses in amusement. “You roam in your sleep, jedi. You came to me many times last night, seeking my scales and burrowing into me.”

The man underneath him makes a horrified face, his efforts to escape stalling. “I did not!”

Maul lolls to the side, laying beside him instead of on top, pulling those pale hands to his chest and pressing the palms over his hearts. His long black tail curls up and over the man's legs. “Does this position not ring any bells, Kenobi?”

Blue eyes stare down at his hands, at the red and black that peek through his fingers. “...”

Delighted by the other man's emotional upheaval, and the way it made the force around them feel, Maul pushes the gambit a little further.

“How about if I do… this?” he says, sacrificing a hand to bring Kenobi's body closer to his, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, affectionately. “Are you going to nuzzle me again, I wonder? Going to curl up on my chest and drool?”

“No!” the jedi exclaims, shimmying backward.

Maul allows it and watches him with an inviting look, finding that this little facet of Kenobi’s fear was… particularly entertaining.

“Oh? But you slept so well, did you not?” he accuses.

Kenobi covers his eyes with a hand. “It's… it's nothing to do with you. I simply sleep better when…”

“Held?” Maul croons.

The jedi growls, without answering. Delightful.

Maul snickers, playfully snapping his teeth near the other man's neck. Kenobi turtles, glaring at him. “Would you quit that? I know you're not going to actually bite me. I'd be dead in minutes, and that would ruin all your bloody fun wouldn't it?”

The sith draws back humming. The rage in Kenobi’s eyes is… pleasing. Anger is good. He understands.

“Hnnn… I offer you a trade,” he says sweetly.

The jedi's struggles calm, and he stops ducking into such a hilarious and pathetic little ball, but his expression remains pure suspicion. “It's hardly a trade if I'm coerced into it while disarmed and bound,” he complains.

“Do you think I care?” Maul asks him pleasantly.

Kenobi huffs. “Fine. What's your trade, sith?”

“I will promise not to bite your neck, or near it, if you tell me of your species. At length.”

The jedi blinks, slowly, waiting with an expectant air. Maul raises a brow at him.

“You… want to know about… stewjoni?” the man asks, baffled.

“Yessss,” the dragonfish sith assures.

He is missing too many pieces of Before. The jedi will serve him, as prisoner and informant.

🔥🔥 don't forget to reblog tysm! 🔥🔥

-Tag list- (Comment if you want added!)

@obimaulartfire @savageopressbignaturals @icequeen8043 @moonsickvampire @maulish

New? Start from Chapter 1! 👇🏽

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scribbles97 · 6 months

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Left Behind - Where We Left Off

Oh look... after two years I've fixed that big old cliff hanger that I left lying around!

Thank you to those that have missed me and welcomed me back into the fandom after being absent for so long, the biggest of hugs to all of you... I hope I don't end up leaving you all on another cliff hanger!

For those that I haven't met yet, Hi!

I was here in the TAG fandom right at the very beginning and somewhere around the time the series finished I thought it'd be fun to imagine an AU in which Lucy was alive and well... this monstrosity of a fic is the outcome of that.

Looks like I was pretty rubbish at posting the last few chapters on here so check Ao3 for the fic in its entirety.

For those that don't want to re-read the entirety of what's already there... have a little recap under the cut.

Beware, there be spoilers ahead!

So... where were we?

Part One of this fic was basically about losing Jeff. That's right folks we hit off from the day the Zero-X blows up and Jeff vanishes.

This leaves Lucy, her brother Lee, and Val Casey as the main leads of International Rescue as we know it.

In this universe Lucy demanded that IR could not be run by their family alone and spearheaded what we call the IR academny, from where Scott is about to graduate. Kayo and Penelope are also about to graduate, but in a much quieter private ceremony for our two espoinage specialists. Both of these ladies have their fathers present and playing a big part in both International Rescue and Tracy Industries.

As for the rest of the family, John is working for NASA and about to shoot off into space. Virgil and Gordon are about to join the IR academy (which momma bear Lucy is absolutely having mixed feelings about). And Alan is being the kid that he should rightfully be at such a young age.

Part Two sees us skip forward four years.

We start to see a little more of IR as we know it here, though Virgil and Gordon are very much still learning, and Alan is barely getting away with being allowed to play on the simulators.

Lucy is afraid because of whisperings of Gaat (The Hood) returning and what this might mean for the safety of her family and IR as a world-wide organisation.

What nobody expects is that new camera angle from the Zero-X, leading to the suggestion that Jeff could still be alive.

Gaat tricks Lucy into thinking he has a new ship capable of the same flight, it's aboard this ship where she meets an engineer known as Michael and promises to free him from Gaat's grip. They then discover that Gaat has found his way onto the Island and is threatening the whole family (think Legacy).

Then the ship goes boom.

Part 3 starts out with the aftermath of Lucy being on a ship that exploded. She's in a coma and all of her boys are a little bit lost as to what to do now.

Scott takes over the business and the running of their IR team with John leaving Nasa to take his rightful place aboard TB5. Lee does an excellent vanishing act when it's decided to return Lucy to the island, and we haven't heard from him since.

We also discover that Lucy and Hugh Creighton-Ward might have been more than just friends at some point in the last four years.

Part 4 Lucy wakes up! Then promptly wonders what her place is in the family now that Scott and Hugh have taken so much of her role on for her. Their main concern is seeing her get stronger before they consider letting her take over some of the reins again.

Scott is quite happy to go on regular business meetings as it gives him an excuse to meet up with Tia, his off-island security that may also be turning into something more.

Speaking of which, Virgil and Kayo are also up to something and have a hilariously cute moment in telling Lucy as much.

Alan is also up to something, being the baby of the family and far too young to actually join the academy yet, he's trying hard to find a way to be involved in IR.

More importantly though, thanks to Eos, we find that Jeff is alive!

Part 5 is the most recent part posted... honestly? If you're not going to re-read the whole thing I'd at least read from here as a refresher.

Scott finally talks to people about his hopes and fears, but then his entire world comes crashing down around him is the most summary I can really say without spoiling what happens next. Val starts to question Lucy if they've done the right thing bringing the boys into IR, and Lucy starts to question her own relationships.

But Jeff is alive and there's a whole lot of figuring out how to get him home.

So... that's the fic in summary so far. Honestly, if you have the time and energy please please re-read the whole thing to refresh your memory. I did just that the other week and it opened my eyes as to how much there is that I left myself open to fix so you might find some interesting threads if you look hard enough!

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #thunderbirds 2015 #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #scribbles writes #jeff tracy #Lucille Tracy #Val Casey #Lee Taylor #Hugh Creighton Ward #Penelope Creighton Ward #Kayo Kyrano #Left Behind #Scribbles writes

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trickstarbrave · 7 months

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why is it whenever i wanna write weird kinky smut i gotta have at least 5+ fucking pages of exposition and world building before i fucking get to it.

anyways here is from the concubine au (nerevar and voryn will have to fake being lord and concubine for Reasons)

warning for sexual assault mentioned, slavery, injuries. nothing is directly shown except for proof of it. abuser gets killed tho

Voryn sat on the comfortable cushions, making small talk with Anaryl Dres, a lord of House Dres. Voryn was quite good with making small talk, acting as though he was speaking to a prospective southern lord to establish a trade of a sizable amount of saltrice in exchange for many dwemer goods, something of value unique to House Dagoth.

In reality though, Voryn was as tense as he had been in some time.

He had been chasing false lead after false lead, reaching dead end after dead end for two gods damn years. Nerevar claimed he wanted to go south and look for work from another house after he and Gilvoth got into a particularly bad altercation that resulted in half the town’s guards harassing Neht afterwards on Gilvoth’s orders. Voryn had assured him he dealt with the problem as needed, but Nerevar brushed him off and insisted it would be for the best.

After several weeks, Nerevar stopped responding. Voryn, overcome with anxiety despite his brothers assuring him it was probably just some lost letters, went to his residence, only to find it empty.

Certainly people going missing in Resdayn wasn’t new. The land was harsh and strangers were not kind nor sympathetic. You either survived, or you didn’t. Nerevar, however, wasn’t weak enough to be killed by some stray cliff racer and left to die in the wilderness. He was strong, sensible, and headstrong. Voryn knew better, and that if he wanted to find Nerevar, he needed to do it with his own resources because guards and other houses would not help him.

This time it looked like a promising lead. Anaryl Dres was normally pretty reserved and secretive, but drunkenly bragged about his new concubine. Only a few details could be gleaned before he left the party: said concubine was a man who was originally born and raised as a girl, the concubine was only half chimer, was supposed to be sold into slavery by his house but was ‘hidden away’ until discovered again, and was very disobedient.

It was a dead ringer for Nerevar: a half blood chimer from House Mora, a lesser house that sold many mixed race children into slavery by order of the Ra’athim clan who resented being ousted from their city by nords. Nerevar also originally grew up as a girl, something Voryn personally went out of his way to correct as Nerevar wished. And lastly, Nerevar would not be broken even after two years of enslavement. After prodding for more answers, all Anaryl would reveal is that his concubine had white hair and scar-tattoos, but those were quite common for many in House Mora.

A servant came in, bowing respectfully to Voryn. Voryn turned to give her his attention, as she came close to his ear, speaking low as to be respectful, but loud enough that it didn’t seem secretive.

“I spotted the tea set you asked of me, Lord Dagoth.” She said low, not missing a beat. “I purchased it, as per your request.” It wasn’t uncommon for nobles from Vvardenfell to shop in larger cities while doing business on the mainland. Especially for a house as remote as House Dagoth, it would be expected he’d send servants to procure various items while he met and spoke with other nobles. But this was more than a servant who had been out shopping for their lord: this was actually a spy he sent to check the residence, and was answering in code.

They had indeed found Nerevar after so long of searching. Voryn could almost smile with pure delight, his heart racing in his chest. Nerevar was here. Soon, he’d have Nerevar back in the safety of Kogoruhn’s walls. But for now, he needed to continue the act. Just a bit more.

“Very good.” Voryn replied dryly, sipping the trama root tea in his cup. The liquid was far too bitter for his tastes, but he was a master at controlling his expressions when he had to. “And the others…?” He asked, looking at the servant skeptically.

“Most of the others on your list were purchased, Lord Dagoth. The other servants are taking them to the propylon chamber and to Kogoruhn.”

Translation: most of the guards in the rest of the manor were paid off in full and the ones who refused were killed. Any and all documents relating to Nerevar were secured in the manor. All that was left was getting Nerevar out of there, after which the Morag Tong would come in immediately after his exit and the Dres lord and his remaining guards who were present in the room with them.

Voryn held back a sinister smile. He waited a few moments, before sighing.

“I suppose it is getting late.” Voryn looked annoyed at the prospect of leaving.

“Oh, Lord Dagoth, there is still so much to discuss.” Anaryl looked positively giddy. No doubt he was getting sick pleasure from the idea he was holding Voryn’s closest friend prisoner right under the mer’s nose, ignorant that his life would soon be over for such an offense.

“It’s not as though we need to iron out all of the details in one sitting.” Voryn replied, finishing his cup of tea. “We can meet again in a week’s time. I’ll bring some of the metal and artifacts for you to see for yourself.” Voryn gave a polite smile as he rose to his feet. “I think that would be even more helpful to our agreement.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He was still grinning far too wide. The man would be horrible at cards, as Nerevar would say. Absolutely too over eager and bragging with his face. “Don’t be afraid to contact one of my servants, Lord Dagoth. We have plenty of saltrice to go around, after all.”

“I’ll send word about our next meeting soon.” Voryn lied, as he left through the door. As soon as the door was shut, he couldn’t help but finally smirk softly.

After an hour, Voryn returned to the residence. The sun had nearly set by now, Azura’s hour fading away and the stars beginning to twinkle. He entered from the back door, knowing he wouldn't be spotted.

Sure enough, the noble was dead on the ground, his throat slit. Of the few remaining guards who were nearby, three were dead and the others no doubt refused to fight seeing the attackers were from the guild. Normally it would be hard to kill even a lesser lord of a Great House, but it seems Anaryl was not well liked by his employees or most higher members of House Dres.

Now free to move about as he pleased, Voryn stepped around the blood and walked upstairs, paying the gore and death in the sitting room little regard. Servants quietly filed in after him, taking all documents related to his visit with them as well in an effort to cover his tracks. Voryn was, if anything, thorough.

Up the stairs, a spy waited at a door, signaling it was the room Nerevar was in. Voryn paused briefly outside it, his excitement now turning to nervousness. He was terrified of what he might see, what state Nerevar might be in. Had he heard the killing downstairs? Was he badly injured or starved? What if he was furious that Voryn took so long to save him?

Still, Voryn couldn’t wait forever. He took a deep breath and opened the door, his eyes immediately falling on the figure laying on a plush pile of pillows, completely unconscious. An elf, golden skinned with long white hair was dressed in gauzy fabric and cheap jewelry, a pipe laying on the floor nearby. A sickly sweet scent clung to the air, a sure sign someone was recently smoking skooma. Their chest rose and fell, their face partially obscured.

Voryn took a hesitant step forward. Then another. And another. He could barely believe his eyes, as he finally took in the figure’s face, relief washing over him.

“Nerevar…” He breathed out, sinking to his knees. “I finally found you.”

Nerevar had gotten thinner, not to mention lighter. No doubt he couldn’t use his muscles properly being confined like this. He had dark circles under his eyes too, and from what skin was showing Voryn could see bruises on his limbs and neck. Love bites, kicks, punches, even hand marks from strangulation. It was enough to make Voryn want to commit necromancy just to kill the bastard himself over and over again.

“Neht,” Voryn’s voice dipped to a soft, tender tone as he gingerly shook Nerevar’s shoulder. “Wake up.” He was afraid of shaking too much, terrified he might accidentally aggravate an injury he couldn’t see. It was a stark contrast to how he was with Nerevar as his guard--back then Nerevar seemed so proud and strong, like nothing could truly topple him. Now though he looked delicate and fragile, something Voryn was terrified of breaking.

“Mm?” Nerevar’s eyes cracked open. His eyes looked hazy, red and irritated but with his pupils blown wide. “... Voryn~!” Nerevar’s face broke out into a giddy smile as he threw his arms around Voryn’s shoulders, tugging the other chimer into a hug. “Mm… I missed you~” Nerevar purred low, before erupting into giggles.

Voryn gave a heavy sigh, trying to untangle himself from Nerevar’s arms. He was hoping that Nerevar wasn’t intoxicated, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Regardless, it wouldn’t be hard to leave with Neht and return to Kogoruhn where he could be treated properly.

“I missed you too.” Voryn replied, finally freed from Nerevar’s grasp. “But I’m here to bring you back with me to Kogoruhn.” Nerevar’s eyes couldn’t focus properly, darting around whenever they were opened.

“‘M tired…” Nerevar mumbled, sinking back into the cushions. Voryn gave another sigh, reminding himself this wasn’t Nerevar’s fault.

“I know, Neht.” Voryn stroked some of his hair out of his face. “You can sleep once we get home.”

Home. Where Nerevar belonged. In the nice, soft bed in the room right next to Voryn’s. The room Voryn kept in perfect condition with most of Nerevar’s belongings still inside it, waiting for the day he could bring Nerevar back.

A guard of House Dagoth carried him, after Voryn wrapped him with a cloak to conceal his appearance. Then it was just a matter of getting to the propylon chamber and back to his stronghold. They could put all this mess behind them.

#nerevoryn #nerevar #indoril nerevar #voryn dagoth #morrowind #no seriously why is there worldbuilding here #we have not made it to the smut yet tho #concubine au

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pastel-omegas-blog · 1 year

Text

‡THE BEGINNING‡

Chapter Ten. Chapter One

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️WARNING!!! THIS BOOK WILL CONTAIN MATURE THEMES AND VIOLENCE PLEASE LEAVE IF IT WILL MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. I DO NOT NEED THIS BOOK TO BE REPORTED . YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.( Mentions of suicide, bullying, blood/torture ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️( This book is going to have more matured themes compared to my others, from smut scenes to non-con, lactation, drugging, hypnosis, abuse of power and over obsessiveness.

⚠️GORE AHEAD.⚠️

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Carriages moved in a single file through the dense forest, the main carriage that reeked of rotten fruit with said substances staining the outside led the line sitting inside were the expected guest of the Northern nobility.

Trees passed the carriage window and e/c eyes peeked out from the soft fluffy fur blankets he had wrapped around his form like a cacoon.

The greenery of nature , the sky blue sky, soft fluffy white clouds, the clean air and fairly quiet place brought his mind to ease a bit as he took it all in.

It was a marvelous sight to behold.

A great contrast to the one he had experienced earlier.

Leaving the palace gates it was impossible to take any of the other quicker routes to get to the northern border because all the roads had been blocked of by the imperial knights, giving his carriage no choice than to pass through the capital square were they were met face to face with the city's people who wanted to show their gratitude to the discarded Emperor.

" Get out of our land you demon!"

A rotten fruit smashed at the side of the carriage and many more followed after it, making the coach man pick up speed.

Aria tried her best to cuddle up to her baby cousin as she pulled him into her lap whispering sweet nothings while Basil tried his best to refrain from going down and killing someone as an example, Felix watched on not knowing what to do.

" Devil leave! "

" Begone you Heathen!! "

" Monster! "

" I hope you fall off a cliff and die "

Despite his cousin's efforts to cover his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the angry mob M/N still looked out taking in their faces printing them into his mind so he wouldn't forget.

He wanted to know who said what, because very soon in the near future they would be on their knees begging for his forgiveness. He could picture it perfectly and the sight made a small smile stretch on his lips.

They managed to leave the capital without any other hitch, riding deeper into the thick forest that was the only available path to the border.

A dark and stone filled path that housed dangerous magical beasts known to devour human flesh, a place known for being the hangout for illegal slavers, murders, thieves, bandits and hired killers.

At some point during the journey the male omega had switched back to sitting in his knights laps and he snuggled closer into the recessive's chest as he fell ' fast asleep ' making the pink haired man's heart hammer away in his chest.

Aria had her nose buried in a book, her golden eyes occasionally glancing to check on her cousin's wellbeing before she went back to the book in her hands.

Felix had his head lowered at the present of his superiors his violet eyes focuses on his laps. He would stare up once in a while to watch the sleeping omega, taking in how his long e/c lashes fell on his rosy s/c cheeks and how his glossy plump red lips opened ever so slighty before looking back down with a blush on his cheeks.

Despite the bumpy road the ride was relatively peaceful.

" Not for long though~ "

The voice whispered in a teasing tone and M/N hummed silently in agreement.

He could feel their leering stares from the small safety the carriage provided.

The ' Friends ' that the saint had sent to ' help ' him and his party.

The h/c man had sensed his kind helpers immediately they entered the forest, they had been watching them waiting for the chance to strike.

Just like how he was waiting for them to act out.

He thankfully didn't have to wait to long.

One of the carriage wheels suddenly popped off making the group panic.

Aria wrapped her arms around M/N and Basil wrapped his arms around the two omegas on his grasp while felix was forced to grip Basil's arm for dear life.

The coach man battled with the reins of the horses, trying to get the animals under control so they wouldn't crash into a tree. The chaos went on for a few more seconds but it felt like hours to those oblivious to the cause before the coach man was finally able to get control once more.

The carriage came to a halt and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, the drivers in the other carriages had stopped immediately they witnessed the accident, but instead of helping they all came down from their spots and ran into the tree line confusing the old coach man who called out for them to come back yelling ' This wasn't part of the deal! "

Looks like they were in on it too.

The h/c male didn't need to worry though.

None of them would be leaving the place alive anyways.

Everywhere became deathly still for a moment and it nerved everyone. No birds chirping, the whistling of the wind and ruffling of leaves seemed to stop and M/N felt his loyal knigh shift his weight so he could grab his sword and the omega gave him points for that.

The silence was broken as an arrow wheezed through the air lodging itself in the coach man's throat drawing a gurgled scream from him as he began to choke on his own blood, his limbs failing around in a panic as he tried too pull it out only for a pink tinted foam to start forming at the back of his damage throat and pour out of his mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the poison kicked in.

His fat corpse fell to the forest floor with a loud thud.

The sound caused Aria to tighten her arms around the bundle up man bringing him closer to her laps while Basil started to get ready if the need be for him to bust out and attack. His baby blue eyes darkening a bit as he glared at the tree line through the window.

The place became silent again no sounds to be heard, then a mad cackle broke it as men began walk out from behind the trees surrounding the carriage and it's occupants in a circle.

The largest member of the group throw two hard stone like objects to the carriage walls one hitting the edge of the window revealing what it was when they noticed the blood dripping from the small stumps under them did they realize it was the severed heads of the coach men that had ran away early.

Aria screamed at the morbid sight as shuffled back into the carriage using the fur blanket to cover M/N's face, Felix felt vile rise at the back of his throat and Basil clenched his jaw, wanting to lash out and take them out. He would have if they were ordinary people, but he could feel their månå reserves flowing off them in powerful waves. Such a thing couldn't belong to a full blooded human.

They had to be hybrids. His guess was proven right as he noticed the pointy ears of the man who laughed like a rabid dog.

" Hey! Hey! Come on now mister knight. Why don't you come down and fight us ? I promise we don't play dirty. It'll be a noble and sticking to the rules thing. Come on out already I've been itching to get some blood on my hands " the ' leader ' of the group cackled out maniacally a very pretty man with a lean build and average height and the pink haired recessive repressed a growl under his breath. He could take them on, but they're were to many of them for him to handle. He was sure one small mistake would be the death of him.

E/c eyes peered out of the small space Aria had failed to cover to look around.

" They are twenty five in total " the voice said ' And you need thirteen souls and bodies for the process right ? ' the h/c man questioned in his head. " Well seeing how the saint has gifted us with so many it would be a shame not to use them~ " the voice mused and his omega host made a sound of acknowledgement.

" What's taking so long? Why isn't the knight dude going to fight? I already promised to be all noble and stuff.

I want some action already. " A white haired man whined out, his pretty blue eyes looking over at the carriage that had gone deathly silently. He puffed his rosy cheeks.

" It doesn't matter if he comes out of fight now or not. The results are still going to be the same. His body will become an offering to the deity -DEMIORCA " the dark skinned bulky man replied, his cat like eyes watching the carriage for any sudden movements ignoring the childish whining of his partner.

" Well I don't give a damn about that alpha. I'm more interested with the omegas inside. The green eyed bastard said we should bring that stupid Emperor back in one piece, but he didn't say we couldn't have fun with em and the woman first " a large man with pig like facial features said and his words made the rest of the men holler out cheers.

The white haired man suddenly stopped his whining and turned to look at the pig man with a dark look on his face, the pretty blue of his eyes gone instead a bright purple colour took over, his canines growing longer, the pearly white dagger like tooth shining on the sunlight. His sudden change made the rest of the party freeze in fear.

The large cat hybrid man put a hand on the pretty man's shoulder to keep him in place so he wouldn't lunge and rip apart a member of their party.

He didn't feel like doing any paperwork.

" How many times do I have to say this so it enters that thick skull of yours orc? We don't touch the omegas. If you can't follow that simple rule. THEN GET OUT! "

The crowd broke down into a small mummer at the man's words the orc huffing and turning his face away mumbling to himself " Uptight assholes won't let me have any fun..."

"FuN..." A deep ominous voice suddenly spoke up scaring the pig man senseless and causing a stir in the group.

The white haired hybrid turned to look back at the carriage realizing the door was open, but inside the carriage was pitch black. Not a single person to be seen and the bright rays of the sun couldn't penetrate into the inky blackness.

A thick black tentacle like appendage with orange and red vein like symbols decorating it shot out of the darkness without any warning and it quickly wrapped itself around the pig man raising him into the air as boarish screams of panic left his lips.

" YoU ThiNk VIOLATING aNoTheR lIVIng tHinG iS FuN ? " The same voice from earlier spoke up, louder than before and it sounded more disoriented, like multiple people were all speaking at once. " THeN iF sO.... " The voice shouted as more tentacles shot out of the darkness, the white haired man and cat hybrid barely having enough time to dodge them as they joined the first one to wrap around it's victim. "" I'm sURe YOu'll fInD ThiS FuN~"

They tore at his clothes stopping for a brief moment to display his naked body to his group, tentacles pulling his limbs away so he couldn't hide himself. The humiliation went on for a few minutes, with the things dragging the man in every direction as he cried and begged for mercy.

For a moment the tentacles stopped their torment and everyone that it was over and the man's yelling simmered down to a pathetic sob. All of a sudden blood and bits of guts rained down on the men below drawing screams from them.

The white haired man stared up in awe at the inky black tentacle his eyes focused on the symbols designing it ignoring the impaled corpse of his former team mate as well as the screams of the others behind him as more tentacles sprouted out from the carriage and did away with the rest of them just as gruesomely at the first. Two were slammed into a boney red pulp, some were diced into cubes, others experienced the same fate as their first comrade. The slaughter went on until it was just the white haired hybrid and his partner. Said partner stood by his side his teal feline eyes widening in shock as he recognized the symbols.

The two hastily bowed on the ground not minding the blood stains or dirt. How dare they complain about such when they've been given the opportunity to stand in the presence of their lord.

" We greet the all knowing and wise Deity DEMIORCA . It is an honor to be in your presence" their voices spoke in sync as they waited for a response.

The tentacles swarmed around them almost in a taunting manner. As if any wrong move would make them experience a death far more painful than their comrade

' DEMIORCA ? Is that what your called ? ' M/N asked as he swarm around in the familiar darkness looking at the pretty white haired man and his dark skinned hulk friend taking in their hybrid trusts. The scent coming from them alerting him of their second gender.

The soft scent of tulips from the white haired man gave him away as a recessive omega, while the barely noticable scent of catnip from the man exposed him as a beta.

" That is not my name. It belongs to a lower god, but he no longer exists. Yet he still has a strong following. He an I share the same pattern and symbols so it's easy for them to make the mistake " the voice said and the h/c omega chose to ignore the jealousy in his voice. M/N watched them for a few more seconds before an idea struck him.

' if he doesn't exist anymore why don't we just steal his following? You've already gained the power you need through the ritual plus the extra you scored from those other beings. You can swindle their hearts. If the god is dead then they've probably been clinging on to any measley thing that could be a proof of his existence. Let's give them hope~

M/N said as a sinister smirk made it's way too his plump lips as the voice- No Demi cackled in agreement.

That saint really was just making things so easy for them.

The white haired hybrid felt his heart beating wildly in his chest, his pale cheeks heating up to a rosy pink.

He couldn't believe it.

He was standing in the benevolent presence of his Deity. A dirty scum like him who had been born for a vampire whore was able to get such a chance.

He could die from happiness.

A thick sweet scent suddenly appeared catching the two off guard as their senses became flooded from the sweet smell.

Ripe peaches, thick honey and warm creamy milk. Such a welcoming and alluring scent.

A soft voice giggled, a hand going under both men's chin to force them to look up and their breaths hitched as they stared up in awe.

Coming out of the inky black mass a mesmerizing creature that made the two men instantly think of a god/goddess

A beautiful face, with curly locks on of thick h/c hair, thick h/c lashes fluttered softly as jewel like e/c hues peered out from them. A rosy red colour dusted his cheeks , his plump glossy red hue lips pulled into a soft gentle smile.

Silky looking s/c skin seemed to shine in the sunlight, his curvy figure very visible, the inky black tentacles only cover up his upper chest and lower parts. He looked like an angel coming to save them and grant them salvation and the two men couldn't stop themselves from staring.

Their Deity was so beautiful. Far better than all those god's those stupid temple men worshiped. " So my loyal followers seem to recognize me~ " the soft voice teased out making the White haired recessive feel his heart beat faster as he blush got worse at the pretty person's teasing " But......"

The hand under their chin tightened it's grip and the two hybrid's winced in pain as sharp claws dug into their skin drawing blood, making the red liquid drip onto the blood stained grass. The s/c man's eyes turned a bright orange colour with a hint of red swimming along his hues his smile falling as a disappointed frown took it's place.

" Yet you both attacked my carriage with the intent to harm my companions and dear I say even try to dispose of me. " The h/c omega said clicking his tongue in annoyance as he glared at the two men.

The white haired man let out a small whimper as his blush grow worse, enjoying the attention he was receiving from his lord, but he absolutely HATED that he was being scolded.

it wasn't his fault.

He didn't mean too, honest.

but he had done it anyway and made himself look unfaithful.

His soft sweet scent started to turn sour as he whimpered out apologies, the beta following along as shame swallowed the both of them up.

" I'm sorry my lord. This trash dared to attack someone as mighty as yourself. Please do with me what you will, my life and body and exist to serve you. " The blue eyed male said as he stared into the h/c deity's mesmerizing orange cat like hues.

" This servant is useless for not recognizing you and your group my lord. I am not worthy of your forgiveness please do with me as you please. I will take whatever punishment you have without any compliant " the dark skinned man said as his cat ears lowered .

M/N let out a hum as he stared at the two men. He obviously wasn't going to kill them. He needed them alive to spread word of his existence, that and they were strong. He needed strong people at his side for now while he gathered his own power, but they didn't need to know that.

" Hmmm. You both seemed to have accepted that it's your mistake. So this once I shall grant you mercy.... " He started loosening his grip on their chin as he pulled away from them. " This once " he said before his eyes went back to their vibrant e/c and the gentle smile returned to his lips.

The two men let out a sigh of relief as their tensed shoulders relaxed only for them to freeze up as a dark chuckle left the being's lips and the white haired hybrid forced his leg together as an effort to hide his aching erection feeling his blush worsen.

" Of course it's for a small price though. " The h/c omega said in a sing song voice, is s smile growing wider as he watched the two nod their heads like obedient little dogs.

" A.. anything for you my lord " the two stammered out in sync.

They would do absolutely anything to make sure they could gain their lord's favor, the first thing would be to track down their employer and make an example of him.

" First off all. I need your names. Need to know who my two loyal followers are because after an incident like this I have a feeling we'll be seeing more often~ " the h/c man purred out and the recessive omega whimpered at the sound, his self restrain getting thinner and M/N chuckled.

" A...Alec my lord " the white haired male stuttered out, his wounds beginning to heal as he found himself getting lost in the god's e/c orbs. " Noah my liege " the dark skinned man answered.

M/N hummed in satisfaction lett go of the two men as he slowly began to sink back into the darkness. " Such lovely names for my new little butterflies ~ " the omega cooed as familiar orange butteries fluttered out of the mess surrounding the two before forcing themselves into the mouths of the two hybrid's and the s/c man let out a manical laugh at the sight.

" Now go on my little dolls spread the rumors little by little and make the people start to question themselves.

' A new god has awoken an aged giant has awakened from his slumber and is ready to save this world from itself ' " M/N instructed and the two men nodded their eyes flashing orange for a brief moment before they disappeared.

" But weren't not saving this world are we~ " Demi asked already knowing the answer.

" Of course not " M/N replied as he cleaned up the scene and replaced the memories of the three people he had hidden safely in his shadow, going back to wrap the blanket around himself as he returned back to his original form.

" We're burning it down "

DEMIORCA'S cackle rang in his head as he began to drift off to sleep

Um hi?

#Dearly Detested #x omega male reader #x omega reader #omegaverse #mc #omega male reader #nobility #leon #x male reader #dearly detested #Marrav #Aria #Felix #Basil

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labyrinthofsphinx · 1 month

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Statistical Outliers

Working on my next little comic, so I figured I'd post a short drabble in the meantime.

Time is everything. It was everything when he was alive, and it’s been everything since he died. The only thing that’s changed is now he was the one that determined time. The citizenship of hell held only two real concepts of time, which is probably why there’s plenty of old badgers still holed up in their ways. First was, of course, the need to keep track on the way to doomsday. The yearly extermination was held on the same day, every year, so it became a timepiece as a consequence rather than by any actual effort. On the other hand, the second was very much an invention of his own.

TV had a way of warping time. When he was alive and doing something similar, people would work their days around the TV because it was only on for a certain amount of time, and there were only a few things worth watching. But, for that hour basis, it was the most drawing thing in the world. Things have changed obviously, now TV shows play all day. People still checked their clocks for the start of their favorite program. The internet and cellphones constantly show the time, even if as more of a background piece to the dramas that play out behind the screen. People are absorbed by media now. They couldn’t escape it entirely. Their time was his plaything and the more time they spent obsessing over his empire, the more control he had.

Of course, with Heaven’s little hunting safari out of the way, his became the only time relevant to the cesspool down here. And most of his own time was spent cultivating that: talks shows, game shows, news, commercials, streaming platforms, you name it.

Time may be something he stole from others, but perhaps only because he had so precious little of it himself.

So, time was important to him. And when someone or something wastes his time, well…

He glanced across his screen, the blue light from the aquarium getting lost in the blue light of the devices. They glared off his face, itself a screen, and reflected off too bright to see much of anything. And Val wonders why this room is always so dark. He turned down the brightness again.

The leftmost screens were devoted to Val, his studio, and his workers. Not that he liked staring at those while shooting, mind you. There was only so much of that that anyone could watch and still be productive. Still, he noted, he really needed to get an electrician over there. You’d think spending all this time literally surrounded by devices, Val would’ve learned something about electrical outlet safety. But, he supposed Val wouldn’t bother. Just like he never had to worry about how he was going to get his films distributed, or edited, or formatted. He had Vox for that, after all.

Because Valentino’s problems were ultimately Vox’s problems.

Right next to Val’s studio on his surveillance was Velvette’s designer pad. He enjoyed watching her in the background of his day, barking orders and snapping people in line. You’d think she’d been the top of fashion when she was alive too, the way she acted. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t actually as old as him or Val sometimes. Other times though, well, her age showed. She played the game of likes and shares. She didn’t play the game of politics. Why in hell did he ask her to attend the overlord meeting again? She hadn’t even had the courtesy of explaining just what went wrong, only that the meeting was full of outdated morons, half of which should be wearing adult diapers. So, yeah, that hadn’t panned out well. And, no, he didn’t try to correct her either. She wouldn’t listen on a good day. And why should she? She was the one whose opinions mattered. Everyone else can shove it. Or, rather, Vox was in charge of making sure other people shoved it, or themselves, off a cliff.

Because Velvette’s problems were Vox’s problems too.

His own office and set were up there as well. It was a little redundant, sure, but he’s always insisted on the extra security. Or maybe it was his own obsession with having to have eyes on everything at all times. Hard to tell, really.

It all seemed so sterile compared to the messes that were Val and Vel’s setups. Even in the midst of a show, it was mostly just him, either plugged in and projecting or sitting behind a chair talking. Any other people in his space were either there for a short segment, or part of the backstage cronies he employs to keep things running smoothly. Sometimes he’d have one of the others up there as well, usually for promotional work: ‘Voxtec presents Valentino’s newest project’ or ‘Velvette’s new perfume line’. Something of that ilk. He wasn’t just the face of the Vees, he was the one advertising them, keeping time set to them.

But if it was a Voxtec product that didn’t involve them? Nope, wasn’t their problem.

Because Vox’s problems were Vox’s problems only.

So, he wasn’t at all surprised that his newest problem, the most recent waste of time, was shown to him sitting on his couch watching re-runs.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel ficlet #my writing #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel oc #Sorta background to my comic and headcanons #Might post more if people seem to like it

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