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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month

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When I Danced Under The Stars

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Part Three

Summary - Tamlin's visit leaves your soul in tatters, but there is someone who knows your pain better than anyone.

Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma, fluff

Part One - When I Kissed the Teacher

Part Two - When I Met The Devil

The fear and despair rippled down the path which led to your front door, the pulsating negative energy causing Rhys to roll his shoulders in discomfort.

He imagined your home looking rather spectacular in the daylight, the pale wood and white railings, the small well-kept garden full of blooming tulips, the natural warmth that no doubt usually emitted from the hearth. It was no wonder that Azriel had forgone his own space to spend time in yours.

Rhys had appeared at the end of the cobbled path, wings nowhere to be seen, with tired, worrisome orbs and a heavy heart. It had taken much convincing from Rhys to convince Azriel that he should be the one to talk to you, that if anyone was going to be able to understand your pain it would be him. It felt like eons since he though of Amarantha and what had transpired Under The Mountain, but as he saw you stood there, frozen in fear and overcome with your past traumas, he felt some of his own return to him.

The High Lord had little reason to think of the traumatic events he too endured not that long ago, he had a mate, and a child, and a loving growing family. Amarantha and everything she did was in the past, they had all moved on, he thought he had too but something still lingered deep within his soul, that fear that the past could one day repeat itself. It was a feeling he was doing his best to hide.

Knocking on the door, Rhys sighed when he heard your sniffles, and he pictured you standing on your tiptoes to peer through the peephole at whoever had come to pull you from your turmoil. Then you opened the door, and Rhys wanted nothing more than to bundle you up in his arms and tell you that it was all going to be alright.

Tears stained your red tinged cheeks, your eyes were puffy and swollen, and you were holding yourself, rubbing your arms with your hands whilst standing half behind the door, "Are you here to tell me to leave?"

Rhys could have cried at your broken strangled voice, it was like Lucien had said, Tamlin had the power to strip the light from you, there was no love in your eyes, just pure unfiltered fear. Rhys tilted his head to the side and shook his head, "I'd like you to walk with me," he stepped into your home, and it looked exactly as he had imagined it.

Childish artworks were strewn across the coffee table of your living area, workbooks were marked and stacked to the left of the said artworks, books upon books were stacked on the floor since your bookcases were bursting full of other titles. It was light and airy but oh so comfortable, he could picture you and Azriel cuddled up on the deep rooted love seat talking incoherently about your shared dreams. A faint scent of coffee clung to the air from the not-yet-emptied filter left in the coffee pot in the kitchen, it mixed with the aroma of the burnt firewood from the evening before.

Rhys took a step forward and plucked your cloak from the railing by the stairs, noting the neatly placed belongings on the table there, lined up in a row so that you wouldn't forget anything during the morning rush before school. You stood unmoving by the door, your eyes flickering furiously as he draped the garment over your shoulders and offered you a hand which you stared at for a moment before sliding your hand into his embrace, shuddering in a mixture of fear and and comfort as he placed your hand on the indent of his elbow.

The Sidra bubbled along the rocks, pebbled stone skitted beneath your shared weight. Neither of you said a word, Rhys was content in just having you near, where he knew you were safe, and you were equally as content looking at the night sky full of stars and wonder. A stark difference to the sky of the Spring Court.

"I'm putting you all in danger," you muttered, eyes still fixated to the dancing starlight weaving in the moons embrace, "You should send me away."

Rhys slowed to a stop and turned to face you, examining your features with a look void of any anger, in a way it was unsettling. You were far closer to Feyre than Rhys, it wasn't like you weren't friends, but you'd never spent a moment alone with him, "I'm not sending you anywhere, y/n," he told you softly, with an understanding speckle of kindness in his eye. Your High Lord lowered himself to your level, placing his hands on your upper arms and stroking the clothed skin there, "I'm here because I want you to know that I understand."

Leading you to a small ledge, Rhys perched beside you on the lip of earth, his legs dangling beside your own as the Sidra swam along down the stream, "I know what it's like to be used against your will. I know what it's like to feel tainted and unworthy of anything good. You feel like you don't belong in a way, that everything you went through was deserved and the Mother must see you as evil," he paused and brushed his arm up against your own, to give you some form of caring contact, a break of sunlight in your clouded mind, "I'm sorry that he did that to you, and I'm sorry that you've been living with it all this time. I'm sorry that you felt like you couldn't tell us. I'm sorry, y/n."

Rhys felt the small sobs catch in your throat, you looked up at the sky and blinked hard, furrowing your brow and exhaling softly before looking sideward to him, "Is Feyre angry at me?"

"Cauldron, no," he told you incredulously, shuffling closer to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "If anything she's worried about you, we all are. What you went through is something no one should ever have to deal with, let alone someone as gentle and bright as you."

"You know?" It was a whisper and your chest thundered with the possibility that they all knew what Tamlin had done, that Azriel knew what Tamlin had done. Panic sat in your chest, a birthing monster of gruesome darkness that was threatening to swallow you whole, "How?"

"Lucien," your heart fluttered, Lucien was perhaps the only person who looked out for you then, working directly against Tamlin's orders and desires to set your free, wanting nothing in return but your happiness no matter where you wound up. As if sensing the deep rooted bond between you and him, Rhys spoke, "He's here, he only told us what we needed to know. I hope you don't mind," Rhys' fingers drifted over the tips of your unbound hair.

"No, I don't. It saves me from having to explain it," Lucien was in Velaris. You knew of his bond with Elain, but you never thought you'd ever see him again, you never had the chance to thank him before he threw you onto a horses back and sent you soaring into freedom, "He's really here?"

Rhys hummed in agreement and he felt your chest grow lighter, your shoulders seemed more relaxed and your eyes didn't seem as sad anymore, "I just want you to know that I know what you went through, I went through it too, and if you ever need someone to talk to, someone who understands, then I'm here. I'll always be here."

A small smile graced your lips, "How long did it take you to heal?"

"I'm still working on that. Healing from this kind of trauma isn't instant. I still wake up at night sometimes thinking I'm back under that mountain with her arm draped over me," his eyes glazed over and you knew he was lost in a memory, "Then I realise that I'm next to Feyre, that I'm in Velaris and I have a son. That it was all worth something, it was worth it to be here now with everything I ever dreamed of."

Resting your head on his shoulder felt natural in that moment, like two kindred spirits finding their other half of understanding, "I hope I get to feel like that one day."

Rhys rested his head atop your head and sighed, "You will. I know you will. Velaris is your home and you're safe here, y/n. You're surrounded by people who love you. One day you'll have what I have and look back at this moment and think about how incredibly wise I am."

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at Rhys, groaning softly as he moved to stand before you, hand outstretched and a wide grin on his lips, "Dance with your High Lord under the stars?"

Smiling, you slid your hand into his, "How could I say no to that?"

It was a tender moment, Rhys placed an arm around your back, his palm flat against the centre curve of your spine, and you leaned into him, head on his chest in the most platonic sense possible as he swayed with you, taking a moment to twirl you under his arm and relish in the joyful giggle that spurted from your lips, "Thank you, Rhys."

"There's no need to thank me, y/n. You mean a lot to us, I think Nyx likes you more than me at this point. Like it or not, you're a part of my family. You make Azriel the happiest I've ever seen him, you've been an amazing friend to all of us. The least I can do is make sure you feel supported and understood."

The pair of you continued to sway, "Azriel is happy?"

Rhys chuckled, "I swear I've never seen him smile so bright or blush so deeply than whenever he returns home from being with you," Rhys pulled away from you slightly, still holding your hand in his, "Azriel would wait an eternity in the depths of hell if it meant he would have the chance to hold you in his arms for a singular moment."

The gaze of your High Lord flickered behind you and his eyes softened as he pulled away from you, "Welcome to the family, y/n. We're all bruised and broken in our own way, you'll fit right in."

That familiar warmth swarmed you, cool kisses snaked up your calves, curling around the small cuts inflicted on you from the broken glass that you hadn't had a moment to clean, "Thank you," your words were sincere and full of blinding relief, Rhys simply bowed his head to you and disappeared into the night.

It was like he knew you needed a moment, just a moment to ground yourself and exhale shakily before your turned into his awaiting arms and flung yourself into his embrace.

Azriel wound his fingers around the back of your neck and inhaled your scent, blinking hard and burrowing his nose into the nape of your neck, "I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I'm so sorry, Az."

"Shhh, don't do that," he told you, his lips pressed against the curve of your neck and shoulder, "Don't apologise for what others did to you. Don't ever apologise for what he did."

"I feel so tainted, and dirty," you sniffled, his shadows caressed your cheeks and he secured his arms tightly around your waist, "I don't deserve you. I'm too ruined, Azriel. Now that he knows that I'm here, I'm not safe. We're not safe."

It didn't escape Azriel's notice that you couldn't even say Tamlin's name, it was like if you did say it then you'd perish into ash. Azriel took your face in his hands, his touch so soft and pure compared to the grip Tamlin had on you only hours before, "I will protect you until my dying breath, and even then I will raise from my grave and return to you. Nothing will ever keep me from you. You are my empire, y/n. You are the one I will burn for, you are the one I will douse myself in blood for, you are the one that makes every single bad day worth the chance of one blissful moment. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise, okay?"

"Please don't leave me," your face contorted and tears spilled from those eyes that he could spend the rest of his days gazing into, "You make me feel alive, like there was a reason I survived. It was to find you."

Azriel's heart sang at your words and he could have crumpled to his knees before you if you weren't the one holding him up.

The stars shone overhead, glittering the sky with endless possibility and Azriel couldn't stop himself from closing the gap between you, capturing your lips on his in the most ethereal embrace, so soul shaping that he didn't think such a feeling was possible. Your tears wet his cheeks and your fingers raked through his hair in desperation, in desperation to feel loved and something other than the heartbreak of your trauma. To feel worthy of something good.

Pulling apart, you were both breathless, and Azriel could see the exhaustion in your eyes. It had been a long day for you, from worrying all day about Nyx and your family, to seeing Tamlin again and feeling the tidal wave slaughter over your soul, to feeling like you had to leave. Azriel pressed his lips to your hairline and held you close, "Let's get you to bed."

You gripped onto him as he went to pull away, "Will you stay? Tonight. Would you?"

"I'd do anything for you," his words pierced your heart, you entwined your fingers in his and allowed him close enough to lift you into his arms, unfurling his wings, "And tomorrow, maybe I can take you to see Lucien? Or we could stay in a read?"

Humming drowsily, you responded, "Lucien, please."

The stars were so close as Azriel soared through the skies of Velaris, cradling you into his chest. You felt nothing but serene slumber pull you into its embrace as the stars sang their sweet lullaby, singing their love to you as your eyes fluttered closed and you became shrouded in their safe, loving arms.

You are safe. You are loved. You are strong. You are worthy.

Authors Note

Ahhhhh!!!! I hope this was worth the wait x

Part 4??

Taglist

@fxckmiup @sh4nn @acourtofbatboydreams @lilah-asteria @iloveboba777 @lisanna2000 @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon

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sebastianswallows · 3 days

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The Little Death — 8. Forms of bitterness

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: smut, fluff, noncon, dom/sub, dom!Feyd, oral (f receiving), felching, cockwarming, and more inkpie (poor reader can't catch a break)

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu

No sweeteners will cloak some forms of bitterness. — Bene Gesserit Coda

He just about dragged her back to his room — their room — half-naked through the halls. She screamed at him and bit and scratched his arm, but Feyd took no notice. He mostly enjoyed it, in fact. When he pushed her into the room and locked the doors behind them, she calmed down. There was no point in fighting him anymore.

Her dress hung on in tatters, slathered around her figure like a spill of ink, her hair in tangles among loosened threads. Feyd hardly wore anything, but what he’d thrown on during their little journey he threw off now in a hurry on his way to her.

“Stop, stop. Enough!”

“You don’t tell me when it’s enough,” he growled as he gripped her by the throat and kept on walking, pushing her toward the bed. “I tell you when it’s enough.”

“You’re a beast, just like your brother,” she hissed.

And as if that were a curse, it weakened all his muscles. He let her go and looked into her eyes, weak and wounded, before the anger came. Feyd clenched his teeth, a pit of shiny black between pale lips, and shoved her. She fell onto the mattress with a huff.

“You’ll pay for that,” he promised, and horrors were rolling behind his eyes, images of what he could do to her even without his daggers — where were they, anyway? He must’ve left them at the dinner table.

But when he reached down and touched her again he found his grip was gentle, almost a caress. She seemed surprised as well and in her wary eyes, he noticed fear. He’d never seen it quite like that before… Not even when they first met. She seemed more determined then, ready to meet death, but now, dazed and aching from what they’d done before, she didn’t seem sure of anything. He held her jaw loosely enough that she could pull herself away if she wished to, but she didn’t.

Feyd looked at the bite marks and bruises he’d left on her and couldn’t help the slight pull of a smile.

“You’re quite the canvas,” he rasped with genuine admiration in his voice. He loved to see the splatter of blood on the white sands of the arena, but she was the closest he’d ever come to making art. “I want to make more…”

“Let go of me,” she whispered and scrambled backwards on the bed. “You’ve had enough fun for one day.”

He followed her onto the bed, then grabbed her ankle and pulled her back toward him. His body covered hers and his lips swallowed her little scream. She tasted sweet and bitter and there was a hint of teeth — his, hers, it was hard to tell; their mouths melded as one. His hands started roaming her body and she nearly jumped in fear or anticipation but he only caressed her. His palms went from brushing up and down her breasts to squeezing them, then travelled lower. He gripped her waist and held her tightly to the bed, possessed her in the only way he really could, and felt her fragile innards giving way beneath his hands. It was a rare thing to feel power over her… To see real fear in her eyes — not of his weapons, not of his status as Planetary Governor, but of him. He had nothing more than his hands and teeth, and she did too, both of them in their naked skin on a black bed, and everything they felt, they felt only for each other.

His hands moved down to cup her hips while he bent down to kiss her. She smelled salty from her tears and her lips were dry and flaky but she was more perfect now to him than she’d ever been before. He moaned against her and finally pulled away, opening his eyes to find her breathless. She frowned up at him from the centre of the soft halo of her hair but Feyd could only smile. There was a sliver of blackness between her lips and he realised with great delight that he had left it there.

“How pretty you are like this,” he whispered, reaching up to brush his thumb across her cheek.

“Why even say that to me?” she muttered, glaring at him.

“I thought you witches were supposed to be clever,” said Feyd with a smirk, but he couldn’t help a certain fondness in his tone. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Enlighten me, Black Sun.”

He brushed the tip of his nose against hers and smiled as he whispered, “Because I want you pretty desperately right now. I’ve wanted you before but seeing you in pain, hearing you scream, tasting it on you…” He sucked in a quick breath as he looked down at her lips with lidded eyes. “And feeling how tight you got all around me… I want that. I want it again.”

She barely had the chance to squirm before Feyd grabbed her by the neck, and although she instinctively held her breath he didn’t squeeze her. He just held her there while he nudged her legs apart and set himself between them. His smooth pale arm was right against her chest and he could feel how warm she was, could feel her heart, and how frantically it was beating. He lowered himself once again to kiss her and then, like a snake, slid lower. He pressed his lips against her trembling chin, then kissed her breasts while his other hand went up to tangle itself in her hair. She groaned when he started pulling on it, but she was a good girl and understood. She bent her head and arched her back for him.

Feyd pulled her puckered nipple in his mouth and sucked on it as if he’d missed it those few minutes since they walked from there to here. And he had. Now that he knew what to expect from her body — what textures, what tastes, how she’d respond to every bit of attention — he could focus only on enjoying the experience. Her nipples had a waxy smoothness to them, a truly special bit of skin, and so sensitive that within seconds of being in his mouth, they hardened. He imagined for a moment how greatly the experience would improve if he could suckle milk from her and he moaned embarrassingly loudly at the thought. His cock hardened again and he brushed it up and down her thigh, but he didn’t let himself get carried away just yet. He had other plans.

He let go of her neck but kept his fist around her hair and as he went lower down her body she was forced to bend. She cursed him and clawed at his arm, her feet pressing down against the bed, but Feyd assaulted her body with kisses as if none of that mattered. As if he was used to taming Bene Gesserit witches like her. He looked up into her eyes and smirked with his lips above her tummy, tongue leaving sticky circles on her belly button, while with his free hand, he cupped her hip to hold her still. She didn’t seem to realise what he meant to do until right before he did it.

“N-no, no, don’t —”

He pressed a deep and loving kiss over her mound and at the top of her slit and then with a stretch of his tongue he was lapping at her clit. She was slathered in a mess of white — from her — and black — from him — and as he closed his eyes and pulled their mixed juices in his mouth he wondered how similar their shades were to the skies of Giedi Prime.

“Ugh, you’re a beast,” she muttered, twisting between the sharp discomfort at her scalp and the pleasure that throbbed through her anew.

“That’s… twice you’ve… called me that,” muttered Feyd between long, suckling kisses at her twitching little nub. “I still have to punish you… But later.”

She was so swollen and flushed, her body opening almost like a flower or the ripe flesh of a fruit. He buried his tongue inside her and she gave a high and girlish yelp that sounded halfway between a sob and laughter. With a gentleness on the cusp of veneration, Feyd pulled her lips into his mouth and kissed around them, pulling out of her the cum he’d spilt before. She trembled in his grasp at the feeling of it being sucked out of her and slinking out. Her back arched, feet scrambling against the black and silky sheets as she twisted herself in even more impossible ways, caught between trying to get away and coming closer.

His chest was pressed into the bed as he half-kneeled between her legs, his body completely forgotten while he focused all on her. The bitterness of his black cum was coated with her sweetness. She’d kept it warm for him. It dripped onto his tongue in dollops and he moaned at the memory of pushing it up into her, of giving her almost more than she could take. And now that he had her at his mercy, twisted in delicious pain while she clung and clawed at his shoulders, he could service her softest parts with his lips and teeth and tongue and he’d never felt more like a man.

When all he could taste was flesh and her cries had petered out to whimpers, Feyd ended his deep kisses with a few long licks at her hole. She cried out more urgently and her nails dug into his skin, and then a rush of shivers that started along her spine rose up to her throat and betrayed that she had cum again.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her clenching hole, soothing it with little kisses that kept her moaning and on edge. “What a sweet thing you are, my darling…”

She whimpered at his words, just like he intended. Her hips twisted, taking her away from him, but Feyd merely moved to kiss her inner thigh. She was wet there too and sticky, her warm skin coated with a mix of sweat, softer in quite a different way than her tender hole had been.

“Nobody gets to kiss you here often, do they?” he asked in a rough whisper. “Or here,” he said, moving up again to chase her most sensitive parts. “Mmmm… What a shame.”

She twitched right before his eyes, both of her holes tightening shyly. Just the sight of it took his breath away. She gave a wordless, weakened moan and pressed her heel against his shoulder, trying to push him off of her again, but Feyd cupped the inside of her knee to hold her still and leaned down to kiss her swollen parts once more.

“S-stop,” she groaned. “Aaah! And l-let me go…”

“Hmmm?” he asked with a cocked brow.

When he looked at her, he understood. She was uncomfortable. He had gripped her hair perhaps a bit too tightly and even the soft bed was not enough to leave her feeling good. He liked seeing her suffer but he told himself he didn’t like a fuss, so he eased the tightness of his fingers and slowly released her from his grasp. The relief in her sigh was almost childish, so endearing. Feyd smiled as he braced himself up on his arms above her.

She was lying tired and supine, her chest heaving, her breasts sore and reddened as if blushing. He braced his arms on either side of her and leaned down to lay one loving kiss on each puckered nipple, ignoring her protesting whimpers. Then, just as he had promised earlier, he slotted himself between her legs while holding her face still before him. He looked into her eyes — fear and anger melded there, hiding something from him — and held her gaze as he pressed his cock into her body once again.

She moaned and arched to get away but Feyd would not allow her. He cupped her jaw with one hand while the other was tangled in her hair. And whether she glared up at him angrily or closed her eyes in pain he was always there, above her, watching every emotion flicker across her face as he went deeper, deeper, into the tight channel that was so familiar now but still so different. She was warmer, even softer, and so, so tender... He could feel her used hole crying around his cock, lathering his balls with cloying, sticky juices. She blushed at the way it sounded when he worked his way up into her, but Feyd couldn’t even find it in him to smile or grin with the smugness he expected to feel — after all, he had done that to her, he’d been the one to bring her to this state, his stern and fierce lady Bene Gesserit... Instead, he was in awe at the sensations, at everything, from the way her body felt beneath him — her vulnerable stomach flexing beneath his, her heart beating quickly, hands clawing at his shoulders — to the blushing sweetness of her face, her shaky voice, her body’s scent, the full experience of her. He half-believed she’d managed to cast some spell because at that moment he was fully enchanted.

With a groan, he reached her end. She cried out a warble of sounds he could hardly make sense of and flexed her body in a last attempt to get away, but Feyd held her. He let his weight press her down just slightly more into the mattress and shushed her whimpers while underneath he spread his knees and positioned himself more firmly.

“Does it hurt?” he rasped in a close whisper, thumb brushing her frown away.

“Y-yes,” she whispered with bubbling resentment, refusing to look into his eyes.

He smiled and let his gaze traverse her face from her creased brows to her red parted lips. Sweat pooled in the small of his back making him shiver, but beneath him, she felt feverishly warm. He pulled back gently and stopped, soaking in the feeling of her core clenching around his tip, then thrust hard into her again. She moaned in pain, or perhaps pleasure, as Feyd built up the pace. He rocked into her body as steadily as a crashing wave but held her firmly in his arms and slowly began to kiss her, sipping at her lips and cutting her sweet sounds short. His muscles trembled from the pleasure of feeling her pain so completely, from the way her intimate parts tightened around him, bruised and battered and sore, to the look of ecstatic agony upon her face and the sound of it that kept pouring forth.

“Shhh… there, there,” he soothed her, his voice low and heavy with the strain of holding back. “Almost done with you… You’re nearly there, aren’t you, my sweet?”

“No,” she pleaded, head shaking side to side between his hands. “No, no, no more, stop!”

He kissed her again and tightened his arms around her, holding her as still beneath him as he could while he started thrusting harder, shoving himself into her body with all the desperation of a man who wished to disappear, to be forgotten. She gasped against his lips, back arching, heart thundering beneath his own, and when he heard her cry out louder and felt her core clench tight enough to hurt he knew that she was close to cumming.

“There you are, that’s it, just a bit longer,” he whispered, kissing now her cheeks, her chin, along her jaw.

“Feyd,” she gasped with eyes closed and head pressed into the mattress, hands clinging to his waist mindlessly even as she seemed to want to pull away.

He cursed and bit into her shoulder when he felt her start to cum. Her hole closed up around him and he couldn’t move, didn’t want to move, and instead allowed her to be shattered by her pleasure. Her cervix nipped at his crown and her lips kissed his swollen sac. Feyd clung to her just as tightly as she held on to him. His own orgasm took him by surprise and he found himself crying out against her skin, his mouth full of her taste and her voice soft and close to his ear. He spread his legs slightly and hers too with the same motion as he settled deeper still, and then after a sudden burst of warmth within his loins, his balls clenched closer to his body and released what cum he had left into her. She gasped at the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside her, at his inky cum filling her again, but she was too weak to complain, too tired to even scratch him. All he heard now were her whimpers and small echoes of his name.

He held her tightly as he spilt his seed then gradually eased off of her. He could taste iron in his mouth — her blood — but if she was in pain he couldn’t see it. When he raised himself up on his elbows she looked dazed, half-asleep, but her lidded eyes looked sated, a feeling he knew all too well. Feyd smiled and kissed her as he eased himself to the side, his cock still held inside her, their mix of cum dripping down onto her thighs. He didn’t notice that his hands were shaking until he brushed the hair out of her face.

“You’re smiling,” she quietly said, her voice reduced to a delicious rasp.

“Mhmmm,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across her lips.

“Why?”

“Your mouth. It’s stained all black and red from me.”

She reached up to wipe her lips of the mix of her blood and his inky residue, but he caught her wrist and laid it down between them.

“I like the way it looks.”

His witch groaned and closed her eyes in something that was meant as disapproval, but Feyd couldn’t find it in him to be upset.

“You can rest now.”

“You permit it?” she asked archly.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I do.”

With a tired smile, Feyd cupped her messy head and tucked it underneath his chin, then he wrapped his leg around her. She was too exhausted to react and he could feel her fast falling asleep, but for a moment it was as if they both felt the same thing. The quiet in the room spoke to them, their skin chilled underneath the same dry current, and under only a thin layer of skin, their blood flowed to the same heartbeat. With the last bit of strength he had, Feyd wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his face into her hair. If he had dreams that night, he wanted them to only be of her.

#Feyd #Feyd Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd Rautha #Dune #Dune part 2 #Dune fanfiction #Dune imagine #Feyd Rautha x reader #Feyd x reader #Feyd Rautha fanfic #Feyd Rautha imagine #feyd rautha smut #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;littledeath

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angelsworks · 1 year

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Little Witch The last kingdom x reader

Chapter 4

Next Chapter -> H E R E

Series Masterlist -> Here

Type: Series

Summary: You recover from use of your powers. Later you have a vision where you meet someone from your past.

Warnings: 18 +, suggestive situations, etc

Uhtred moves toward your small form. Crumpled on the ground.

“Are you sure you want to do that mate?” Finan asks, still keeping a great distance between the two of you.

Uhtred turns to look at Finan with an eyebrow raised.

“I mean, what if she gets you with her mind powers.” Finan’s voice has an edge of mockery. But his concern is real. He’s just seen you melt a man’s mind without touching him. He’s not convinced you won’t do something similar to Uhtred. Even in your sleeping form.

“What harm can she do while asleep?” Uhtred remarks. If you could do something like this while at their camp, it was worth noting that you chose not to.

He’s feels more certain you have good intentions towards him and his fellow warriors. While he was not entirely convinced of your innocence, his reservations towards you dwindled. Having no trouble picking you up or being near you more now.

He could see now that you were nothing like Skade. He could see why men feared Skade, her outward appearance matched her inner intentions. Yet with you he sees no reason to be scared. Well not until a few moments ago. Compared to Skade your vision was much clearer and your power was clearly stronger.

Fate had sent you his way for a reason. Now he was sure he would accept it. Fate had not been kind to him recently. He argued that this might be a some sort of present from the gods. A way to make up for all of the bad.

He crouched near your body. Your breathing soft, as you lay on your side. Your tattered dress covered in dirt. Both old and new.

Uhtred brushes a piece of hair out of your face. Taking the time to observe the peace on your face, that he sees only when you sleep.

Finan sends a look towards Sihtric and Osferth. Realising that any advice he gave to Uhtred about not thinking with his cock, clearly went in one ear and out the other.

The feelings among Finan, Sihtric and Osferth were almost unanimous. They’d seen the disruption and trouble Skade had left. They expected the same from you. Yet watching you today changed some of their perceptions.

They had decided you couldn’t be truly evil. Not when you went out of your way to save Osferth. At a tax to your own health.

They had decided to no longer judge you based of your appearance. You may look small and weak physically, but they were forced to stretch their ideas of strength after watching you force a man to his God with just a look.

The one perception that did not change was that you were dangerous. If they were not friends with Uhtred, they would see him as dangerous. Dangerous because of his immense strength and skill both on and off the battlefield.

You were dangerous because you were both a witch and a stranger. They had no stories shared with you, no memories, no battles. They didn’t know the first thing about you. Not even your name.

Uhtred reached his arms underneath you, picking you up and carrying you to his horse. He struggled little as he mounted his horse with you in his arms. Positioning you to straddle his lap, leaning your head on his chest. Drawing his own cloak around you.

Your body was limp. Even with the dead weight he thought your body too light. Your dress hid your shape. Though the contact between his chest and your body allowed him to realise how small you really were. As his arm held you close he could almost feel your bones through the thin layer of skin covering them.

He would make sure you were fed properly from now on. If you were to stick around he wouldn’t want you weak.

The horses went back into formation as they walked down the road again. Finan beside him. Osferth and Sihtric behind. All being extremely quiet.

“What will become of her?” Osferth asks, voice gentle. Mind contemplating your fate. Fate that now in rested in their hands.

Uhtred thinks about it, “she stays with us, but we will still be cautious of her. Know now she is no fake.”

“So have you decided to keep her then?” Finan’s question makes him snort. The sound making you stir beside him.

“A witch this powerful,” he looks down to you once more. “I would be foolish not to.”

Your mind is blank. Emerged in darkness.

A dull light emerging from the darkness works to break your unconscious state. The drowsiness of your mind begins to agitate you, as you struggle to escape it. You feel your mind try to awaken but your body is still numb. You try to move your arms, lift your lids, stretch you toes. All prove fruitless.

Slowly, the drowsiness begins to clear and your mind begins to sharpen. It feels as thought knives are being pushed through your skull as you begin to wake up. The pain solicits a groan, which passes your lips. Breaking the seal between them.

As you stir you are made acutely aware of your surroundings. The sound of horses hooves surround you. Your body is rocked forwards and backwards, a motion you match to being on a horse. Your face feels the cold of the wind, yet your body does not. A thick cloak covers you.

Your nose is filled with the scent of wood, leather and musk. The last scent makes your eyes flip open. You see the detailing of Uhtred’s chest plate. You comprehend the position your in. Practically wrapped around Uhtred’s front, face pressed into his chest, while his arms wrap around you and hold the reins. They act as barriers, securing you in place.

You want to feel embarrassed but your main concern is the pain radiating from your body. It was the same when you killed one of Steffens men. It made your body weak and drained your energy. The feeling was in no way pleasant.

This time you were already so weak before you killed the bandit. You weren’t sure what energy you had left to drain. All you knew was the pain you felt was worse than the last time and if Uhtred wasn’t holding you up, you’d lost likely be on the floor.

You groaned again as you moved your head to look at Uhtred.

“Easy witch, you move any more and you’ll fall from my horse.”

You said nothing as you stilled your body. Trying to remain as still as possible. While practically balancing on his lap.

While the position is not proper, being so close to someone else brings you comfort. You can’t remember the last time you had a hug or any sort of intimacy you enjoyed.

Reality breaks and you remember now more clearly, what you’ve done. How disturbed Uhtred and his men must be. They must think you’re the devil himself. Evil reincarnated.

You wonder why he holds you so close. So you can’t escape? Are they planing to turn you in? To take you somewhere worse than their care?

Your already laboured breathing gets impossibly harder to push out.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper pathetically. Trying to steady your panic.

“For what little witch?” Uhtred’s tone does not sound angry. In fact, this is the calmest you’ve heard him be.

You focus on the sounds and smells around you. Trying to ground yourself. You focus on the gentle sway from the horse, the cold on your face and Uhtred being so close. It creates a dream like calm. One that helps you to try and speak without crying.

“For killing that man.” Your eyes are focused on the trees as they go by.

“He planned to do the same to Osferth.” He points out.

Yet still you feel uneasy, guilty even. For exposing your dark powers to them. Making your relationships with them more strained, if not broken.

“I’m sorry I killed him the way I did.” You murmur. Not quite sure he’d even heard you.

Uhtred sighs, not sure what to say to you. While he’s starting to realise how powerful you truly are, he sees that you are no Skade. The thoughts leave him feeling conflicted.

“Try to sleep witch. We will speak later.” His words do little to reassure you from your doubts. Regardless you try to fall back to sleep.

Your exhaustion is apparent once again, when your body slips quickly into a limp state. Your eyes closing. Your nose filled with Uhtred’s scent. And finally you go back to sleep.

At some point in your sleep your mind becomes awakened with colour.

A bustling market filled with people becomes clearer. You see Uhtred beside you. A rope wound around your wrist is attached to his own. Tethering you to him so you can’t run away.

The picture turns to an alleyway off to the side of the market. Down it you see a figure adorned in a dark blue cloak. The cloak is familiar. It’s not until the hood is pulled down that you see her. Astrid. The sight is enough to fill your heart with joy. It’s a welcomed difference from the previous dread and panic you felt.

The next time you wake the sky is grey. Not with night, but with a muggy morning gloom. A camp has been made around you but it’s deserted. The fire put out. Small bowls and other items lay around it.

You take a deep breath in as you try to sit up. Your side aches. The feeling making you wince. You are glad no one is around. You can’t think of any convincing lies for your injuries.

The cloak is still wrapped around you from yesterday. You find your ankle tied once more to the floor. The sight making you sigh.

On the other side of camp, out from the trees Osferth emerges. He sees you awake and gives you a weak smile. He walks over to the camp, packing away the bowls and other items on to the four various horses.

Finally he comes over to you, hesitant. He crouched in front of you. Looking deep into your eyes. As if searching for something.

Even though he doesn’t consider himself a monk anymore, Osferth still feels he is a holy man in his soul. His previous life has set expectations for how sin and evil will appear to him.

Before he talks to you he looks in your eyes. Searching for any indication you are evil.

He sees a frightened girl, eyes wide. Trying to appear braver than she is. He sees a girl who saved him, despite their poor treatment of her.

“Thank you for saving me.” You nod. Voice weak. Unsure what to say to him.

He pulls out a flask, offering it to you. Without appearing too eager you take the flask. Pulling at the top and taking a large swallow. You don’t care what the liquid inside is. Water, ale, whisky. It could be poison for all you know. As long as your spit stops tearing your throat at every swallow, you’ll die happy.

Thankfully it’s just water. You’re tempted to joke about it being holy water, but feel that with Osferth it may be true.

With the flagon half empty you hand it back to him.

“Thank you.” The water had done wonders for your throat. Words now coming out smoother than before.

He tries to reciprocate your smile and does so poorly. It’s clear he still, like the others, has his reservations about being near you.

Soon after Finan and Sihtric return. Regarding you with impartial gazes, not saying anything. They pack up any items left around the camp before preparing to saddle up.

You don’t notice when Uhtred comes beside you to untie your ankle. Instead lost in thoughts of Astrid and seeing her again.

“Witch, you ride with me.” Is all he says before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. The action jostling your sore body. Your bite your lip to hide your moan.

He places you on his horse and climbs behind you. Taking the reigns and setting off. Once again in front with Finan.

You doubt a piece of rope could be put between you and Uhtred with how close you are. Your ass directly in front of his crotch. The rock of the horse bumping you gently together. The feeling of it making you blush.

It would be a long ride to town. At least you know you would reunite with Astrid.

#angelsworks post #the last kingdom #the last kingdom x reader #the last kingdom series #uhtred the last kingdom #osferth the last kingdom #sihtric the last kingdom #finan the last kingdom #dark

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ellieloves2draw · 1 year

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elytra headcanons i doodled a while back! feat. my favorite joe ive ever drawn

(ID: five colored marker drawings of various hermits and their elytras. each drawing is labeled with what kind of elytra each character has. in order, these are “cloak”, “vex”, “boxelder bug”, “grasshopper”, and “spooky halloween cape thing”.

first is grian. he’s a fae with birdlike hands and feet and a whiplike tail which has feathers at the end, pointed ears, dishwater blond hair, black dot eyes, and freckles. he is wearing a red sweater, black cargo shorts, and reading glasses with small, circular lenses. his elytra is a cloak that has been cut and sewn to resemble simplified wings. the base of the wings are red and the false feathers are gold, with small buttons at each crease. grian is sitting with his elytra half unfurled around him.

next is scar. he’s a human with green eyes, brown hair, and scarred skin. he is wearing a brown brimmed hat, jacket, and pants, a white buttoned shirt, and he is holding a cane in his right hand, and gesturing with his left hand while smiling. his elytra are a pair of vex wings. they resemble simplified bat wings with moth-eaten holes and are a pale blue color.

next is tango. he’s a pale netherborn with messy, swept-back blond hair, pointed ears, sharp cheekbones, and stubble. he’s wearing a red shirt with grey circles on the biceps, gold-framed goggles with red lenses, oversized red work gloves, and black overalls. he has his back mostly turned to the camera and has his arms spread out. his smile is visible, but his eyes are obscured. there are two small, empty speech bubbles around him. his elytra are a pair of boxelder bug wings. they’re folded on his back, showing only the shell, which is black with red outlines.

next is joe hills. he’s a human with long brown hair with green tips, cat eye glasses, and a handlebar mustache. he is wearing and oversized blue t-shirt with a white ‘at’ symbol on it and blue pants with patches sewn on. he’s hovering in the air and smiling at the camera. his elytra are grasshopper wings. the top pair are long and thin, and are tan. the bottom pair are triangular and are mostly brown with a green bottom edge.

the final drawing is cleo. they’re a tall, fat zombie with orange snake hair, grey-green skin that has been stitched together, and white eyes with black sclera. she is walking toward the xamera and is wearing a long, flowing, low-cut dark blue dress with gold trim, a split skirt, and gathered sleeves just below the shoulders, black and white striped stockings, blue flowers in her hair, and gold flat shoes. their elytra is a large, tattered, dark blue cloak that resembles huge wings. they are spread up and out behind cleo in an awe-inspiring but menacing manner. end ID.)

#hermitcraft #elytra #grian #goodtimeswithscar #tangotek #joe hills #zombiecleo #ellie loves to draw #i have a couple more drawings that i didnt finish that were intended to be posted with these #they were bdubs (house sparrow wings) etho (da vinci glider contraption) and pearl (moth wings)#if those ever get finished ill post em #anyway im scheduling this for the morning but i did type up that ID at one am so gnight gamers ✌️

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yonemurishiroku · 1 year

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something something what if Hades was there when Nico went on a rage of grief.

As in, Idk, maybe in another scenario, Nico’s healing in the Underworld when he feels Jason’s death.

He was there, reading on the couch in a comfortable silence with his father skimming through the papers, and the next second he nearly fell off the chair, clutching his head and screaming from the top of his lungs. Blood-churning, spine-chilling screams calling Jason’s name.

Hades left the papers. The god reached his son just as Nico throws himself into the shadowed walls, gripping his thin-as-bone wrist to yank him out of the shadows. With cold arms as heavy as Atlas’ sky, he held him tight against his chest, his cloak wrapped around the boy, securing him.

Nico fought. He shrieked and clawed at Hades’ chest with all the ferocity of a desperate animal. Tears streaked down his face in a downpour and his voice broke until Hades couldn’t make out the words he’s screaming except for the son of Jupiter’s name. Nico tried pushing him away, to escape, to reach the one whose death was calling for him. The shadows bit at Hades’ cloak, hissing and beckoning.

“Let me go! I need to see him!”, he cried, “I need to see Jason!”

But Hades didn’t let go.

He didn’t even when Nico’s skeletal hands wouldn’t stop punching at his chest and the damned souls on his cloak wouldn’t stop groaning, attuned with Nico’s distraught state. Hades only hugged his son closer. The shadows didn’t dare to touch Nico with Hades’ flaring aura completely enveloping him. They would not take Nico away from him.

“You’re not stable for shadow traveling yet. You’re gonna rip yourself apart.” The god tried, but Nico’s wrecked mind had locked itself out of overwhelming grief.

So Hades kept his hold. He stroked Nico’s hair and sent soothing words to his deaf ears. The palace was shaking - Nico’s emotions having engulfed the building - and the only thing Hades focused on was his child’s ragged breaths and frantic heart. Tripping, stuttering, breaking all the way.

——Until they all faded away, and Nico’s helpless form had fallen limp in between his arms. Tears staining his pale cheeks and nightmares just behind his eyelids. He kept crying even when his body was too tattered to remain awake.

His son had barely gained so much peace.

Gathering the child in his arms again, Hades called Hypnos. He had a feeling he would need the god by Nico’s side for many days to come.

And then with a sigh, he gave the order to shut down the palace. No one in or out without his permission.

“Nico would try to reach my brother’s son once he wakes up,” he told Alecto as he carefully wiped the stains on Nico’s cheeks, “I can’t have him kill himself like that.”

Grief was a devastating thing and oh didn’t Hades, Lord of the Dead he was, know it.

So he knew he wouldn’t be able to shoulder it when it came to his son.

#nico di angelo #yone rambling #yone writing #pjo #hoo #toa #prince of the underworld #powerful nico #nico and hades #hades (pjo)#riordanverse #angst #dead jason grace #fanfic talk again bc what’s new anw?#nico healing #yone headcanon #underworld famiy #nico healing in the underworld

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infernalbliss · 2 years

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Biting More Than You Can Chew

Kaeya Alberich x Top Male Reader

“Sir Kaeya is known for his habit of taking risks. But perhaps, the bold and suave cavalry captain should learn a bit of caution.”

CW: Rape/Non-Con, No Prep, Spit as Lube, Degradation, Humiliation, Bleeding, Begging, Dacryphilia, Mentioned Stalking, Mentioned Obsession

The entire thing was supposed to go smoothly. Flawlessly. As it had always been, especially with the help of his good looks and charming tongue.

Cavalry captain Kaeya Alberich was only letting his ear loose when he caught whispered words of a suspicious man lurking through the streets when the day's late, a cloak over his head and a rusty kamera in his gloved hands. He'd linger near the Knights of Favonius' headquarters, pacing on his feet as he went into hiding behind whatever large item he could find. Suspicious and worrisome activity indeed, he decided.

It could be hardcore fan who's just a bit too interested in one of the knights or someone who works in the headquarters. Definitely a higher level compared to the woman who's constantly thinking about his brother and nothing else, and that's saying a lot.

But as those words began to spread like a plague, reaching the ears of the other knights, Kaeya could sense the anxiety that began festering through the Ordo Favonius. Who wouldn't be, knowing that they might be the target of such a disgusting act unknowingly? He'd notice the way they've heightened their guards up at all times (which is good, but takes a toll on their mental health). Poor little Amber would glance around queasily, Lisa almost never left the library and even strong, unyielding Jean Gunnhildr could be seen on edge.

Now, this absolutely won't do. And as the kind and generous friend he is, how could he not extend his aid and provide them more safety? He'll catch this disgusting bastard, and no longer will they be glancing behind their backs every second of the day.

❧

It was late when Kaeya began his little plans. He noted down the pattern of this person's movements through what's been whispered and shared, as well as their general appearance - or at least from what they could see.

They're always seen in a dark green, dusty and tattered cloak that reaches their ankles, and their hands are covered in dark leather gloves. And they always, always have a kamera on them. Marjorie had told him that she would sometimes see them prowl around near the lower parts of the city, where not much people would crowd in. With a smile, he thanked her. Kaeya knew where to find this man now.

But maybe, just maybe... Kaeya should've practiced some more caution.

He stumbled upon that man, in all his cloaked glory, just as he took the last steps down the stairs. There, he froze as if he was caught red-handed - which he really was - and Kaeya could see the way his eyes and his kamera glinted from the minimal light the moon provided.

"Oh, would you look at that?" He crooned, grinning at the creep before him. "Right into the lion's den, I presume. Your days of stalking down our poor knights are over, I'm afraid."

He spoke of nothing in return. Kaeya sighs.

"Listen, I really want to turn you in right now, but Jean won't be too happy to know I decided to grab some guy without proof. I mean, anyone could be some random suspiciously cloaked weirdo at night, holding a kamera that's seen better days." He said, gesturing to the poor machine in the man's hands. "I'd suggest you show me what exactly you've been doing. If it's innocent, I'll release you. If it's fucked, you're fucked, get that?"

The silence that followed stretched for a moment or two, and Kaeya was prepared to resort to extreme measures, until the man sighed and turned.

"...Fine."

The captain blinked, before his lips curled into an amused grin. "A fine choice, I'd say. Lead the way, handsome."

And oh, did he lead the way.

❧

You couldn't believe your eyes when he stood before you at the dead of night, soaked in moonlight like the ethereal being he is. The moment he walked down those steps, halting right in front of you, you could feel the tent forming underneath your pants.

The beautiful cavalry captain was searching out for you, apparently, without a single suspicion that he was the one you wanted. He was the one your prowled around at night like a hungry wolf for. He was the one you desired.

“Right into the lion's den, I presume.”

And oh, was he absolutely correct.

You lead him through the gates that night, and Kaeya waved away any questions the guards have to ask. His charming smile was enough to reassure them, and more than enough to have your desires stirred up even more.

The walk was long and strenuous, and Kaeya whistled to fill the silence.

"So we're travelling now, huh? How thrilling."

So thrilling, especially for you. Because he was right there, right within your grasp. One reach of your arms, and he'll be all yours.

And how could you possibly pass that chance up?

Kaeya, ever the sharp-eyed knight, dodged the moment he saw the glint of a dagger in your hands that was sent flying towards him. But only then did it dawn upon him that you were aiming for his vision instead of his flesh, and the moment you speared the chain that kept it dangling, it was already too late. The vision stuck to the dagger, being sent flying away and rendered unusable to it's weilder.

Kaeya turned to find you lunging towards him.

The sounds of bodies hitting the earth echoed through the night sky as you tackled the captain to the ground, grabbing his wrists the moment your hands reached his skin and pinning him down to the grass. Your surprising strength held him down, and Kaeya found himself struggling fruitlessly.

He tried maintaining a calm appearance, but the way you leered down at him was nothing but calming.

“Hey, now.” He dryly chuckled, feeling his first cold sweat trail down. "Take me out to dinner first, would y—"

Lips crashed into his own before he could finish his sentence. His eyes widened before repulsion filled him from head to toe, and he struggled to turn and break away from your lips. Your little kiss seperated with a gasp for air from the captain, and you licking off his saliva from your lips.

"What the hell?!" He snapped, glaring daggers at you. "Which archon gave you the rights to do that?!"

"I don't need the archons." You spoke, your voice low and gravelly. Kaeya gulped at the way your cold eyes trailed down his body, lightly shifting in unease. "I only need you, my dear Kaeya."

He squinted at you like you're a riddle no man has ever solved, and slowly shook his head in disgust. "You're insane..." He grimaced.

"And you, Kaeya Alberich, are an absolutely foolish man." You grinned mockingly down at him. "Willingly seeking out the 'creep' that's been wanting you for ages. Years of endlessly craving for the touch of your skin, to hear your voice reserved all for me, and finally... finally... You're here, right where I want you to be. After all, as stupid as you can be, there's no denying that you are a vision by itself. Blessed by the Archons, falling from Celestia itself..."

You could see the way Kaeya's face shifted into absolute horror and disgust by the truths you unveiled and the way you spoke of him. His tanned face paled the moment he felt his arms shift as you used one strong hand to hold down both wrists, and the other one began trailing down his defined curves.

"Fuck..." He hissed, buckling wildly to free himself but to no avail. He grunted at the futility of his attempts and began panicking. "Get off of me, you bastard!"

His words went into one ear and out through the other, apparently. You ignored his growls and pressed a nail through those slutty tight pants he walked around in on the daily until it bursted through. You tugged onto that hole and tore apart a large hole, exposing the beautiful skin of his groin.

"So, so beautiful..." You mumbled, paying no mind to Kaeya's fearful protests and only focusing on further exposing the beauty between his legs until it was bare all for you.

My, such tight underwear he wore. Much easier for you to simply rip off of him, forcing a horrified yelp out of the poor captain.

"Don't-" he gritted his teeth, "don't you dare!"

Before he could react, you twisted his entire body around with impressive strength until he faced the earth. Kaeya struggled to wriggle out as you slowly crawled lower, your hands pinning down his tiny waist until your chest laid between his thighs. His ass was all bare and exposed for you, and you salivated at the tight hole hiding in between.

Kaeya gasped when he felt something wet trail up the crevice of his ass.

"Get off of me!" He immediately shrieked, trying to kick you away but you kept a firm grip on his thighs. He could do nothing but twist around in vain, his nails digging into the earth as he tried to pull himself away from you.

A small whimper escaped his lips as your tongue prodded through his little virgin cunt.

"N-Ngh..!" He whined, pressing his forehead into the grass as he felt the humiliation bubble within him. His hips buckled from the sudden odd yet overwhelming feeling, and you grinned against his plush asscheeks.

"It seems that the poor cavalry captain enjoys this..." You teased.

"SHUT UP!" He barked. "Get off, asshat! I swear to the seven, I'm gonna fucking kill you! I'm gonna—AH!"

He felt a sudden sting as something longer and bigger forced it's way through his hole, digging deep despite the dry friction that made it so much more difficult. And it hurts.

You pressed your middle finger deep into the writhing captain, crawling deep into his unexplored walls and feeling yourself swell up in bliss. Because this was Kaeya Alberich's ass you were fingering! Your dick was growing so hard at this point that it's starting to hurt.

"Shit— Stop it!" He cried out, hips attempting to buck away as he hissed from the burning stretch. He didn't think it'd hurt this bad. "Are you deaf?! I said STOP!!"

He shouldn't be surprised when you only went further, and then your fingers curled.

The sudden wave of pleasure coursed through Kaeya's lithe body, and he choked on a moan. What was that? What did you do? And why did it feel... Good?

You chuckled darkly, prodding against that one spot and forcing out broken moans from the captain. "Looks like I've hit the bullseye." You grinned. "It feels so good, doesn't it? Admit it, Alberich. You love it, and you want more."

"FUCK YOU!!" He shrieked, beyond ashamed and humiliated by how your words stirred up his composure, and how some of them were true. It felt good, but he didn't want anymore of it. Because it hurt like a bitch, and he just didn't want you doing this to him in general.

"No, Kaeya." You grinned, chuckling jeeringly. "I'm gonna fuck you."

Kaeya blanches.

"No." He breathed out, vigorously shaking his head as you stood up and pressed a boot firmly against the small of his back, keeping him in place. "No, No, NO! Get off of me you- you sick MANIAC!!"

Kaeya writhed wildly when he heard buckling coming from behind him, unable to escape from the pressure of your weight holding him down. He could feel the first sob beginning to break through, but through some ridiculous pride, he managed to keep it in... For now.

Eventually, your hands returned and groped the soft flesh of his ass, spreading them apart to reveal his hole, glistening from your saliva. Your thumbs pressed through the still tight cunt and they spread the puffy rim, all while your eyes remained fixated on the sight you've been dreaming about for years.

Kaeya began breaking when he felt the head of your cock press against him.

"NO!" He struggled, pathetically twisting and turning like a caught prey desperate for it's unreachable freedom. It amused you, the way he thought he could get away with this.

"HELP! Somebody, help me!" He cried out, feeling his eyes prickle with tears before a choked sound of pain escaped through his lips as you breached him.

He howled into the ground when he felt you press through his unprepared hole, your fat cock digging through the tight rim, forcing it to spread apart to accommodate your girth. It felt like being speared by hot iron; it fucking burns.

But to you, it felt like you've ascended to Celestia itself. You couldn't believe it, you thought you were in a blissful dream. Because here you are, Kaeya Alberich underneath you, taking in your cock even if unwillingly. It dawned upon you that this may be the only chance you'll ever get, so you'll savor every moment of it.

Kaeya was writhing and crying out the entire time as you took your sweet, agonizing time with pressing your cock into him. His sobs echoed through the night sky, pleading for mercy while desperately calling out for help. Luck was not on the captain's side tonight, as not even one patrolling guard could be seen anywhere.

"Stop! Stop, please!" He sobbed, voice hoarse and painful. "Agh! It hurts- fuck, it hurts!"

"Shh..." You whispered into his ear, sighing as your hips finally met his round ass. "You'll enjoy it soon, dear captain..."

And before he knew it, you grabbed his hips, pulled out and slammed back into him. His back arched beautifully as he screamed into the air, pain filling his entire being.

"Archons, you feel so good..!" You gasped, relishing in the way Kaeya squeezed so perfectly around your cock, his walls moulding perfectly around the intricate shape of your dick. "You feel amazing, Sir Kaeya! I'm gonna fuck you so good, captain, I promise!"

"N-No—!" He couldn't even finish his sentence when you thrusted once more, sending jolts of agony through his trembling body. It hurt, it burned, it stung and it was nothing but pure torture for the young captain. His body rocked alongside each snap of your hips, paired with the pained yet pleasured sounds pouring out of his mouth, he was the picture of a dicked down slut itself.

The sight was utterly beautiful for you. Kaeya, underneath you - even if he was facing away - shuddering and moaning as he took in your cock like the good whore he is. And his cunt gave you pleasure beyond what a man should be worthy of receiving. You couldn't help but thrust into him like an unyielding piston, fucking him mercilessly, brutally, cruelly. It was suddenly so much easier to thrust, and you know well that Kaeya's skin had broke and bled. Perhaps it was his battered body's form of mercy, to provide lubrication even if it meant bleeding.

No matter, because you only grinned in delight. Kaeya's blood was on your skin, and you couldn't be more happier.

You fucked him raw and deep, your large cock drilling into his insides and threatening to break him. His legs trembled like a wilting flower, unable to hold himself up if not for the hands that kept his ass up. His hair was all over his face, and you couldn't catch a glimpse of his beauty as he took your dick.

You decided that you didn't like that.

In a swift motion, you turned him around so he's laying on his back. Steam blew out of your nose at the ravishing sight of Kaeya's red, tear-streaked face, eyes rolling back into his head as he pants heavily. His entire body was shaking like a leaf, he didn't even have the strength to stop your hands as you hikes his knees up to his chest. His flexibility impressed and aroused you, so you began fucking him once more.

"P-please..!" He whimpered, letting out a guttural moan as you fucked into his prostate. "Stop, stop it, please..! Hahh..! I-I can't— not anymore..! Let me g-go..!"

"How could I ever..?" You frowned, utterly repulsed by such an idea. How could you ever, when you finally had him in your grasp? Mercy, what a foolish idea. There was no need for mercy when desire had taken over, and your desire took over everything.

His slender, svelte body bounced as you pounded into him yet again, wanton moans escaping those plump lips that you couldn't help but devour them once more.

Kaeya weakly tried to push you off as your ravenous lips and tongue made a mess down his mouth. You tasted every bit of his wet cavern, the tip of your tongue trailing all over his cheeks and gums that he couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation. You could feel his salty tears even in his mouth, and just like every part of him, it was sweet and delicious.

You broke the kiss with an audible pop, and admired Kaeya's now red and glistening lips. Saliva trailed out of the corners of his mouth, dripping down to the ground as he panted once more.

A debauched whore, you thought.

Wanting to taste more, your pulled against the cleavage hole of his blouse until his choker ripped off, allowing you more access through his slutty shirt. His nipples were brown and perky, budding in sensitivity the moment your thumbs rolled them, that you couldn't help but salivate.

Your lips wrapped around those trembling buds and Kaeya whined loudly.

"N-No..!" He cried, weakly punching against your back. "Stop, please! Please!"

Oh, poor cavalry captain, begging so pathetically. He must be feeling so humiliated right now, having his body used up like an object, all at your brutal mercy.

You sucked on his nipples vigorously, tongue lapping and swirling around his nubs while you occasionally clamped your teeth around them. Kaeya howled from the assault of pleasure that broke his mind, arching his back while trying to twist away from your grip. Your hips never ceased thrusting, and the feeling of having both his prostate and nipples abused drove him wild.

And then you grabbed his hardened, leaking cock, and all hell broke loose.

White liquid splattered all over his stomach as he cums with a scream, his bucking up as he came all over your hand. You ceased all movement immediately by the pleasant surprise, and slowly pulled off of his chest as Kaeya began panting from his forcefully pulled orgasm.

His eyelids fluttered open to find you grinning down at him.

"See?" Your lips stretched from ear to ear, rows of teeth glinting menacingly as you brandished your cum-stained hands. "You loved it."

"No..." Kaeya slowly shook his head, dawning horror settling upon him but he was too exhausted to lash out. "I didn't, I—"

"You came, Kaeya." You chuckled, "It means you think it felt good. You think my cock felt good, you whore. You like being fucked. And I'll indulge you, my sweet captain, until you're begging for more."

Kaeya felt you grab his arms, a strong grip pulling them down towards you, and threw his head back with a choked moan as you thrusted in deep. It didn't take long before you were fucking his battered body once more, returning the sting that multiplied from the oversensitivity of cumming.

"A-Ah—!!" He gasped, turning his head away as he felt the unwanted pleasure return once more. Why didn't you stop? When will you stop? Will you ever stop? He didn't know, but he just wanted this entire thing to be over. Why won't the Archons help him? Barbatos, why won't you rescue him?

The way you held his arms down forced him to press his tits together, and with each thrust you could see the mounds of flesh bounce along in sync. It was beautiful, so utterly ethereal, and it'll remain in your memory for the rest of your life.

Kaeya didn't know how long you fucked him until he felt your warm seed shoot out right into him.

It revolted him.

You groaned as you finally came, and was filled with euphoria immediately after. You came while fucking Kaeya Alberich. You came inside of Kaeya Alberich.

You pulled out, agonizingly slow for the captain, and watched the way your cum dripped out of his trembling hole.

You felt yourself rise again. Kaeya cries when he felt your hands spread his legs once more, begging for the mercy you've never had in you.

The next day, the cavalry captain resigned for unknown reasons. Unknown to everyone but you.

#kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x top male reader #kaeya alberich x top reader #kaeya alberich x male reader #top male reader #top reader #male reader #dante's works

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erose-this-name · 2 months

Text

Queening the Pawn

Cult of the Lamb Ficlet

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Lambert awoke in the middle of the night by the sound of a loud, dull, thud, from outside.

They wrapped their hand around their bell to muffle it and slipped out of bed. They crept outside, shivering, the simple beige rags they wore did little to warm them after their recent sheering.

Lambert crept outside the bermed house to find their father, Ramses, working behind the secluded refuge. His graying wool was soaked with blood.

Ramses stood very tall, a scarred and grizzled one-horned ram. He claimed he lost his left horn in a fight against Leshy, Himself, and his right hand to something far worse. Though, the exact Bishop in question changed between retellings; Heket, Kallamar, Shamura, even The One Who Waits.

He never spoke of it boastfully, though. Rather, informatively; Ramses was always very specific about how he would escape these gods, how to fight their followers. He never made any illusion that fighting them directly wouldn’t be a death sentence.

Lambert came closer, struggling to make out what Ramses was doing in the dark. Then he realized that his father, shovel slung over his back and sword in his belt, was dragging the corpse of Lamb’s uncle away from the camp. Lambert gasped.

Ramses’ long, notched ear perked up at the sound. He muttered to them without looking away from his grim work, “I’m sorry you had to see this, Lamb’. I planned to do this when you were asleep, should’ve known that wouldn’t stop you… Don’t worry, I made sure he didn’t feel pain…”

“What happened, father? Uncle Ovid…” Lambert said.

“Ovid was talking about turning himself in to the Bishops. He never could listen to reason, ever since we were lambs…” Ramses said.

“S-so you killed him?” Tears welled up in Lambert’s eyes.

Ramses set down the cadaver and shovel. He stood up straight and turned to Lambert, retracting his bloodied hand back under his long, tattered cloak. He was stoic. Though, very dark bags hung beneath his damp, forlorn eyes.

“You know how we play chess together, Lamb’? Sometimes you predict a few turns ahead, and see the only way to win is to sacrifice a pawn. You have to do it, even if you aren’t sure. Even if that pawn might be very useful, even if you love it. Any pawn can become a powerful queen piece if it gets to the enemy’s side of the board, after all. Or, you might need to sacrifice bigger pieces, like horses, or bishops, even your original queen, just so another pawn has a chance at getting that far.”

Lambert’s eyes lingered on the body, strewn lifelessly on the ground besides him. But their father never looked away from them.

Ramses continued, “Sometimes, protecting a family is like a game of chess. If I’d let Ovid live, he might’ve snuck off when I wasn’t looking. If they caught him, they might’ve tortured him until he tells them where to find us. I didn’t want to do it, but it was a necessary sacrifice… I did it to protect us. Do you understand me, Lambert?”

“… yes, father.” Lambert stared down past his hooves.

Ramses bent down to Lambert’s eye level and wiped tears from their face with his cloak. “… Why don’t you go back to bed, Lamb’? I’ll come up with some warm milk, later.”

Lambert said, “Um… are you sure you don’t want help? With Digging the g-grave, I mean…”

Ramses tilted his head to the side and smiled at Lambert, his horn resting against a shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

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#cult of the lamb #writing #fanfic #cotl lamb #oc #the mother's name was Ewelia #sheep puns

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twoidiotwriters1 · 6 months

Text

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: I'll see y'all in a few weeks! -Danny Words: 1,944 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter /Book II Listen to: 'The Exit' -by Conan Gray

XLIII: It Got Too Fluffy, I Had to Do Something About That

Monsters are vanishing left and right. After Typhon vanishes away, Lady Artemis and Apollo help us strike down a couple more creatures, not to mention Tyson and his buddies are also stomping enemies like they're made of clay.

A blast of golden light comes from the sky, and we all stop to stare. The gods around us, all except Hades, go up to Olympus at once.

"Did we win?" Jake Mason asks behind me.

I realize we've run out of monsters, and everything is deadly quiet except for a few mortals' panicky screams in the distance.

"It's done," Hades announces. "Olympus stands."

I drop Almighty out of pure shock. "My brother..."

The top of the Empire State turns blue all of a sudden, there is only one kid insane enough to ask Zeus to do that.

"She said what?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters 'cause she's supposed to be your second in command and she's disrespecting you!" Leo insists heatedly.

"It doesn't matter," Ara repeats calmly. "This was just an argument, we'll make peace once I'm back."

"But..." he almost asks 'What if we don't come back?', but asking that is never an option, so he changes the subject. "I don't want you to leave this place sad, this is your home."

"My home is with my parents and Percy," Ara corrects him stubbornly, then pokes his cheek. "And you. As long as I'm with you, I'll be okay."

Leo softens at her words. "Alright. Let's go rescue your brother from Camp Stuck-up."

"I heard that!" Jason steps onto the deck with his backpack over one shoulder. "Don't go saying that once we get there, Leo. Be nice."

"I'm nice!" Leo puts his arm around Ara's shoulders. "But my girl needs me on her side right now."

Ara looks over the ship's rail, they're on top of the cliff where Bunker Nine is hidden, and she's meditating on whether it's a good idea to look for Lily or not. Their arguments wash away as soon as something bigger happens, so she's not too worried.

The next hour is a blur, while Hades helps us rebuild the city, Mrs O'Leary walks past us with Chiron on her back.

"Ara Jackson," he says my name as if he were talking to a badly behaved pet. "In the future, review your plans with me before you risk your life in such a reckless manner."

Mrs O'Leary shakes off a bit of dirt, making him wince.

"We can talk later, go to camp," I say gently.

Hades walks up to us after Chiron leaves.

"Well, Jackson," he eyes my appearance. "Now is your time to come through with your part of our agreement."

I stare at him, not sure of what to say. He glances at Nico and the boy steps forward, looking anxious. "We should check on the others," he suggests.

"You're a good warrior, Ghost King," I nudge his arm as we walk together. "If I hadn't promised Lily the position, you'd be a good second in command."

He makes a face as if he can't think of anything more horrid than following my orders forever.

When we enter Olympus, people cheer for us. Percy goes out of his way to find me and holds me, after getting my mom's blessing, my forehead can reach his shoulder perfectly.

"Pretending to be Achilles? Are you kidding me?! That was insane!"

"And I haven't pulled my craziest stunt yet," I mumble against his shoulder.

Percy moves away and frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Ready to go?" Piper and Coach Hedge arrive with all of their stuff.

Ara holds tightly onto the railing. Lily didn't come to say goodbye, she left Ara's cloak inside Ara's cabin in the ship, along with her tattered T-Rex. That's how she operates, Ara knows that.

She pulls out the dagger her friend forgot in her room that same afternoon, Ara brought it as a good luck charm.

"Annabeth's ready?" The girl eyes the blade, deep in thought.

"Yes," Leo hums, moving to the control board.

"Let's go, then," Ara sighs, trying not to sound worried.

Lily gets called by Hades right after Annabeth becomes the architect of Olympus, he tells her there are too many corners that he doesn't want to leave unattended in the Underworld, and many souls to recover after this war, so Lily must work with Daedalus to make the Underworld safer and Tartarus harder to reach.

Percy could've become a god if he wanted to, but he turned it down. In exchange, he asks for the Gods to care for their children, to treat every camper with respect, no matter who their parents are. I think that's sweet.

"Arae Jackson."

It isn't Hades the one who calls me forward, it's Ares. I can't help the way I glance back at my friends in confusion. The god snorts. "Why are you surprised? You've been calling to me for a whole year."

I frown. "Lord?"

"We've all been listening, like you asked," Mr D says. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

What surprises me the most is that instead of passing out, I feel braver. Blame it on the Aphrodite in me, but I thrive on the spotlight.

"Yes," I look at Zeus. "With your permission, then... I'd like to plead my case." The god's face is impossible to read, but I carry on anyway. "I offer myself as your next child of Olympus."

Demeter scoffs. "Why would we choose you?"

"Cause I want it," I reply cynically.

"Young lady," Poseidon speaks. "We haven't seen that kind of hero in centuries. What makes you think you're up to the task?"

"Well, what makes you think I'm not?"

"You're an Aphrodite!" Ares laughs. When my mother glares at him, he clears his throat. "I mean, it doesn't seem like it would be the calling for someone of your kind."

"I've fought plenty," I continue. "I've learned a lot and I want to keep our world safe. I also have this..."

I show them Almighty. Hephaestus shifts on his chair uncomfortably and looks away; Zeus frowns, but next to him, Hera gets excited with the revelation.

"Pantodynamos!" She beams.

"How do we know she didn't steal it?"

"I saw her in action," Hades says. "This half-blood tricked a whole army into believing she was Achilles, our last son of Olympus, and they believed it because she did a good job."

"A child of Olympus must be familiar with their armies," Athena nods in agreement. "And she's spent years learning all the crafts, has she not? She can fight, build, and knows how to lead."

"I say we give her a try," Mr D shrugs. "We can strike her out of existence if she's lousy."

"She has my full support," Hades announces. "And my vote."

Zeus glares at his brother, but then Hera speaks. "Mine too."

"Me three," Mr. D hums, he's already lost interest and seems eager to leave the throne room.

"I gave her my blessing," my mother smiles. "She has my vote and my trust."

"Mine too," Hephaestus grumbles. "That was a neat trick you pulled with my son's creations, I'd like to see more of that."

"I vote in favor," Artemis eyes me with interest. "Would've made a fine hunter, but if this is her choice..."

"I never forget a fan," Apollo winks at me. "She's got my approval."

"Well, I helped her kill a Hyperborean..." Ares ponders. "So I guess I vote in favor too."

"She has my vote," says Hermes.

"Fine," Poseidon gives in, briefly glancing at Percy. "She shall have her chance."

Percy steps forward but Annabeth stops him. It catches my eye and I look back at them, my brother doesn't understand what being a child of Olympus ensues, but he's visibly worried. Annabeth's staring at me like she can't believe this is happening, and Thalia's shaking her head, knowing the deed is done.

Lily keeps her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes fixed on the floor, Nico's the only one who doesn't look anxious or angry, perhaps he wants me to succeed, cause that would mean he also can.

"Arae Jackson, kneel before the council," Zeus says at last.

I do what he asks me right away, holding tightly to the hilt of my sword.

"The gods are granting you the greatest honor," he says. "Do not waste it."

"You'll be the General of our armies," Athena continues. "You're allowed to deny or authorize quests as you deem it proper, and you shall join them if you think it's necessary."

"If we call, you must answer. We will grant blessings only when you truly need them," Zeus continues. "Choose wisely, we cannot grant you all twelve."

"Lastly," Hades smiles coldly. "You cannot favor your former godly parent over the rest of us. From now on, you are the daughter of Olympus."

"Do you conform to these rules?" Zeus asks.

"I do."

Every god in the room lowers their weapons and scepters to the ground, golden lines travel through the marble surface and climb up my body healing my bruises, cuts, and scars.

"Stand."

I hold onto Almighty as I get up and notice the purple cape around my shoulders, a gold pin shaped in the form of an omega keeping it in place. I also feel something on my head, and when I reach up, I discover it's a crown of gold laurels.

Zeus looks far from happy. "You may go."

I put my sword on the sheath that's hanging over my hips, and I keep my head up as I walk away without turning my back on them.

I think of the friends I lost, of how lonely they must've felt in their last moments. I think of all the lives it could save to have someone who shows up when we need them. A hero who doesn't think we're inconsequential and who by magical binding, can't turn their back on us.

I remember when the monsters thought I was Achilles.

I'm just like him now.

"You should take a nap," Annabeth suggests. "You have to look your best once we arrive."

Ara raises a brow. "I didn't come here to look pretty."

Annabeth shakes her head. "A child of Olympus is above everyone else, Ara. The Romans won't like that."

Ara feels her stomach twisting in knots, but she smiles despite it. "Won't be nice to discover a Greek is their commander, huh?"

"You'll have to assert your position, and for that, you need to look strong," Annabeth squeezes her shoulder. "Sleep, I'll call if we need you."

The girl makes her way to the cabins. As she goes she spots Leo moving from one side to the other on the control board, but she leaves him alone, they all need to focus on themselves.

Jason helped her practice the wolf glare all Romans have, and he's taught her the way the legions work, but just like Annabeth, he's warned her they'll show resistance to admitting she's their superior.

Ara has faced worse crowds, so she thinks it'll be fine. Becoming a daughter of Olympus didn't keep her loved ones out of danger, but at least no one can keep her out of the fight now, and she's going to become whatever she must to secure their victory over Gaea.

The girl falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow, but she doesn't get a demigod dream this time. When she opens her eyes, she's no longer on the ship.

"Ara," Aphrodite looms over her, eyes just as serious as the rest of her expression. "We need to talk about your curse."

I don't understand why my friends are acting this way, but they aren't upset because I wasted their time, they're angry because I've given mine up. Ambition blinds me from the one thing the others can see.

I didn't care at first, I was fifteen years old yet my name would be written in our history books. No one was going to be able to put out my fire for a very long time.

I wish they had.

Book II ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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milkytheholy1 · 2 years

Text

Everything Ends: Part 8

Tmnt Masterlist. Everything Ends Masterlist. Ultimate Masterlist.

A/N: OKAY I finally got it to work, it took many drafts, many restarts and way more patience than I have but hopefully if you're seeing this it means Tumblr finally let me upload the next part! Enjoy!

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2044

"Aw come on, you won't let me with you again?" Donnie whined, it wasn't something he often found himself doing, but these were different circumstances. Leo heaved a hefty rucksack over his shoulder, the metal of the arm easily taking the brunt weight.

The leader in blue sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes, "I've already told you, D. We need you to stay here and protect the base, watch over the injured and make more tech. I know you want to fight but you're too important to our cause."

"But I can help, even remotely! Shelldon V.27 would be a simple addition to your pla-"

"Donnie." Leo called out, cutting the soft-shell turtle off. His thick stare halted Donnie, he knew the glance, knew the body language well enough; he wasn't going anywhere. Donnie released a sigh, slumping back against his wheelie chair, "Fine..." he mumbled out. Leo smiled, although it didn't meet his eyes, "Thank you, I promise it'll be worth it."

"Yeah, yeah." the genius huffed, turning away from his brother to face his tattered creations. He was still trying to rework his battle shell, but with limited parts, the dream was useless, "Just don't lose another arm, I don't have enough parts to build you another one."

"Gee, thanks, Don." Leo laughed out, walking to the entrance of the room. He turned his head to face his brother, even if he could only see his cloaked shell, "Don't do anything stupid until I get back."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." he mindlessly finished the quote, a small smile hidden in the shadows. The moment Leo left the room, Donnie cast a sneaky glance over his shoulder to check the coast was clear before he sprung from his seat and frolicked around his minimal lab.

"Oh to be free once more, I am but a prince trapped in a tower waiting for someone to come and rescue me!" he moaned out, leaning against his desk with a hand to his forehead; he was always one for dramatics.

His whimsical dreams soon took a turn for the worst, however.

A blaring red light painted the walls of his modest lab, a small beeping sound came from his cracked laptop while loud explosions could be heard in the distance. Donnie's eyes widened, he quickly found himself flipping over the table to keep track of what was happening.

"Noooo, no, no, no, no, no!" he gargled out unexpectedly, one by one the cameras he had littered around their base were failing, tuning to static. The sounds were getting louder and louder, the ground and walls would shake with each hit. Something was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Donnie lept from his chair to a small draw on the opposite end of the room, within said draw was a short metal stump but when pressed extended into his glorious tech bo. Over the years the tech-wiz had time to perfect his craft, even coming up with his own logo which he branded on everything.

"Gah, my battle shell!" he cried out, feeling the ground moving below him. But before he could make it to his one form of protection, an explosion blew the wall against him, wrapping him in concrete and metal piping. Once the dust faded, all Donnie could hear was laughter and screams.

The base had been infiltrated, massacred, demolished. Luckily most members of the resistance were with Leo, only the injured and weak were left behind. Before Donnie could sit on the thought that he was left behind because he was weak, a large hand grasped him and heaved him from the wreckage.

"Ahahaa, well if it isn't the purple one." the Kraang sister cackled, Donnie struggled in her grasp, feeling her grip tightening the more he winced in pain. She drew him closer to her face, letting him see the grotesque saliva that coated her teeth, "Where are your pathetic brothers and other freedom fighters? I was hoping to crush the resistance all in one go!"

"Naaagh, well sorry to disappoint, but it's just me." Donatello gritted out through clenched teeth. He wriggled to press a button on his beaten-up tech brace, hearing a small 'beep' sound come from it. Out from the minimalistic wardrobe to their right shot out four metal tentacles which slammed into the Kraang sister, knocking her back a few paces.

Donnie was dropped to the ground, landing on his soft shell, knocking the wind from under him. No matter the amount of pain he was in, he knew he had to get up and call for help, call for Leo. While distracted by his inventions, the Kraang sister shook and growled out as she tried to fight off the scrap metal clawing at her face.

Donnie continued to press buttons on his tech brace, giving a brief "Haha" when all his tech surrounded him like that one scene in Iron Man 3, a small comfort of his when the world wasn't in complete chaos. His bo staff landed in his looming hand, he was smug, maybe it was fake confidence.

With an outstretched arm, Donnie pointed at the Kraang sister on the opposite end of the room, "A long time ago you said my tech couldn't protect me-"

"Huh?" the Kraang sister grumbled, snapping the metallic tentacle bot in half. Donnie released a small chuckle from his lips, his eyes in a heavy glare, "Get ready to eateth thy words!" with that he pushed the button on his tech brace and all at once his tech was sent flying towards the enemy.

Donnie watched in awe, everything he had managed to build from scratch was actually working and not turning evil for once, not that it was ever a problem before, aha.

When his tech began to dwindle, that's when Donnie called in the big guns, "Shelldon!" on the broken table behind the Kraang sister laid a small purple box with gleaming red eyes. Like a Transformer, the creature shifted metal plates and limbs until it stood tall, "At your ready, Donatello!" it cheered out.

"Go get 'em, son!" Donnie whispered, nearly tearing up at his own sentiments. Shelldon sprang onto the back of the Kraang, punching it hard with one fist while tugging on it's skin with the other, "Get off of me you pathetic creature!"

Donnie couldn't take his eyes away from the fight, either from fear or how impressed he was with little Shelldon. But when the Kraang creep grabbed him by the head, Donnie sprung into action, "Get off of my tech!" he yelled, swinging his bo staff and thwacking the Kraang in the side of the face.

The Kraang sister almost immediately dropped Shelldon, the impact causing some parts to spring off of him; he was of course still in beta. Donnie landed back on the ground with determination in his eyes, he stumbled when he caught sight of Shelldon yet didn't show hesitation with his next actions.

He took a running start, charging at the Kraang then using his mystic abilities as best as he could to form a huge mallet. It had been a while since Donnie had been in a fight, even longer since he had to use his ninpo energy; he was a little rusty and couldn't hold it as long anymore.

"THIS IS FOR RAPH!" he screamed out, bringing the mallet down against the Kraang...but it didn't work. Just in the second before it could penetrate alien skin, the Kraang had grabbed Donnie by the face. She flung him to the ground, not giving him an ounce of chance at standing back up. She pressed a hard foot against his plastron, pushing down until she heard a cracking sound please her ears.

Before she could be fully satisfied with the death of another turtle scum, Shelldon bounced back and grabbed at her, yanking her in a feeble attempt to free his injured master. Donnie watched on, eyes barely open and head feeling numb. But he saw his creation, his tech...his son, fighting.

The Kraang had clearly had enough of this, only coming here for a simple mission and while the hunting and fighting were fun little games to her, she wanted to complete her mission. Grabbing Shelldon in a much similar vein to Donnie, she yanked Shelldon's head clean of his body. Circuitry and oil leaked out of the joints, the body going rigid in her hands. She dropped it to the ground with a rather loud 'clank' and then set her beady eyes back onto Donatello.

"Now, where were we?"

Leo sat with his arms wrapped around his torso, near enough shaking at the horrific retellings of his brothers' passings. Casey was still a grave distance away from him, equally just as distraught, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," Leo spoke out, voice quivering, "Y-you did the right thing, I need to know- I want to know. Please, continue." Casey gave Leo a side-eye, unsure whether this was healthy or not, but nevertheless, he continued like clockwork.

"Michelangelo was a skilled and talented sorcerer, he could use the mystic arts like no other being. He fought all around the world, through space and time. Sadly, the greatest thing he could do, the thing that helps people, would weaken him with each use. The more he used his power, the more it drained him, made him old."

Casey released a meek chuckle, "The dude looked 80 instead of someone in their late 30s." Leo wanted to laugh, wanted to lift the heavy atmosphere that settled around the duo, but he just couldn't; not with this topic.

"I'll take everything I have." Mikey's voice drowned Casey's head, causing the boy to whimper.

"He helped me get here, he sacrificed himself to save the future. Just like Master Leonardo, and I can't fail him, fail both of them." Casey flicked his head to the ground, his voice fading out. He knew he had already failed them though, he's been having to carry this fear with him everywhere he went and now finally it had happened.

The Kraang were invading, the world was coming to an end, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. Casey looked towards Leo again, he felt anger; why couldn't this be his master? The one he had grown up with his entire life? Instead, he gets this guy who's clearly in the funk and refusing to see what really matters; his family.

"I wish (Y/N) were here, they'd get you to snap out of it." Casey mumbled under bated breath, thinking it was out of earshot. But Leo's head flicked up, eyes widening, "Look, I know I'm not the Leo you knew in the future, and maybe I never will be." he began.

He started his slow ascend to help Casey pull the rocks away, though the teen still refused to give him eye contact. But Leo continued, he was going to make this right, "This whole time I was sure my family needed me, but the truth is I need them." A bright light blasted through the darkness, incasing both their faces with warmth. Casey and Leo began to dig quicker, but it still wasn't enough.

Leo placed a hand on Casey's arm, stopping him as he gave him a hopeful smile and apologetic eyes, "If we're gonna survive this, we have to do it together." he finished. Future boy nodded back, silently agreeing with a smile of his own and a sniff of his nose. On three the two began working together, pulling the rocks back with more force until the hole crumbled and the duo were free.

Casey slapped a hand on Leo's shell, congratulating him, "I knew you could do it." Leo nudged Casey's shoulder with his own, "I just needed someone to knock some sense into me, thank you."

Casey went quiet for a moment, looking away, "I, erm, sorry about what I said back there. I was just angry and scared, I shouldn't have brought that stuff up."

"Hey," Leo pleaded, forcing Casey to look at him, offering the teen a warm smile, "Don't feel bad, I needed to hear it. And I promise the future won't end up like that, scout's honour!" he crossed his fingers along his chest, right where his heart would be.

Before Leo could walk off Casey stopped him, a hand outstretched, "I- I didn't-" he stuttered, feeling his eyes blur, "I didn't tell you about (Y/N)." Leo's expression hardened for only a second, his smooth grin forming back on his lips, "Don't bother, it's never gonna happen. Not on my watch.

"No offence, but with your current track record, that doesn't give me much hope."

Leo laughed a little, lolling his head back while he pulled out his katana, "Sometimes hope is the only thing we have." The duo walked along the railways, finally spotting an entrance.

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crzyimp · 1 month

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Wander and Monkey: Dragon Boat Festival

Prompt: The duo at the dragon boat festival making Zongzi and Monkey(Wukong) missing his family

Warning: Angst, but with comfort

Author's Note: A day late, but this is for my friend @sparrow-in-boots request and birthday gift! Feel free to send an ask or prompt if you liked my story. Inbox is open!

How on earth in all their centuries of living did they end up here, here making sticky rice balls, what's the word again? Zongzi, that was the name, wrapped in bamboo leaves to eat later or to toss it into the river. Wander didn't want to linger in the village during what seems to be a festival just around the corner, honoring a beloved poet or worshiping gods and dragons alike; several scents overwhelmed their nose as children and women walked by with silk sachets or the wormwood and calamus. Something about the smell irritated them and the last time they asked someone, they got strange looks and the logic behind it all was to ward away evil spirits. Their eyes drift over to Monkey, too absorbed in noticing he's being watched.

Their once tattered clothes and furs were finally replaced after enough complaints from Monkey about ‘scaring the locals more than him’ or ‘You look more beastly than man’; now most of their wardrobe matched the locals, all but their furry cloak and their walking staff. Over the long journey since they left home, there are still some things they can't let go, at least a keepsake of their homeland; how they long to return, but know deep in their hearts they can't. Wander shift their thoughts at how they got into this mess, well the one Monkey dragged them in.

Monkey, the same stubborn fool, asked Wander to stay and observe the upcoming festival. When he heard a quick and harsh no, all hell broke loose; the tiny bastard kept pulling and yanking their hair back to the village, the colorful words he used (certainly picked that up from Wander), to biting and kicking, normally the harassment or abuse they can easily ignored or brush off, but it had more power and gruffness that Monkey never had before. Wander soon relented and agreed to stay longer, just to get him to stop, their eyes still linger on him.

“Hey Monkey, why did you want to observe this festival so badly? It's not like we never encountered this before.” Wander’s ears twitch as the melodious hum, Monkey still focus on his zongzi. They continue as they shift back to their own zongzi, “Didn't we see this five years ago? Weren't the people there worshiping a god or a dragon? I recall seeing those folks on decorated boats.” They laughed at the memory, “And I happened to remember you jumping on one boat with a family close to the river's edge.” Monkey stopped, his eyes locked on the zongzi and the edge of his lips tugs downwards. “Oh, didn't they offer to invite us for dinner after we cleared the air? That's right,...” They nod to themselves in thought, “...the entire family was visiting as a reunion, it was certainly a sight to see; some seeing each other for the first time in years, or bringing new additions to the family like a spouse or a child. Must be nice for everyone to see each other again.”

whamp!

Their body jerks and the table shook, Monkey stared long and hard at his smashed zongzi splattered on the wooden table with some of the rice sticking on his callous hands. “Monkey's going to get more rice.” he said abruptly with an unrecognizable tone, Wander didn't had the chance to object that the two still had a full bowl of rice left when he marched off. Their eyes watched him head towards the direction of their camp; most people refused to lodge them due to the duo’s appearance, but neither of them minded as they were both at home beneath the stars. Still though, it concerns them that Monkey left like that, but it's also clear as day to them that he needs time to be alone. So they give him time to himself and wait for his return.

They waited for nearly two hours before their stomach twisted itself into a knot and a frown on their lips. Rolled up sleeves, sticky hands stained with fruits and nuts, and a completed batch of zongzi for the intended goal later on. And yet, Monkey hasn't arrived back with a better mood or a smile; instead Wander stands alone with knitted brows, hastily grabbing everything and marching back to camp. Normally he's back in ten minutes, thirty at most, but it's rare, too rare, that he's gone for this long.

Wander pays no mind when people move to the other side of the road or the whispered stares as they briskly walk past. Walk past the village’ outskirt and into the trees, close to the river, but just a little over at the edge of its rocky banks, and finally next to a fallen tree is where camp was set up. Their eyes wide at the sight of the only bedroll thrown half-hazardly over the ashy firepit and supplies scattered everywhere with Monkey's back towards them.

“Monkey!” everything falling from their hands, their vision blur, and the sudden burning friction on their knees as they rush to his side. Ignoring the mess, the potential culprit, the future clean up, the only thing that concerns them was their beloved friend. Their hands on him as fingers touch and feel for anything out of place, his body slumps into Wander's body before he climbs into their lap.

“Wander” his voice quiet and soft, small hands clasp tightly against their robes as Monkey buries his face and body into their chest. “I…I miss'em, I miss my family…” His body shakes and his tail curls in. The reason for his departure earlier. “I miss them so much and yet I can't remember what they sound like or their faces. It's been fifteen years and I'm scare Wander, I'm scared I'm going to die alone!”

Arms, arms bigger and stronger than his encase him, a hand nudges him to the sound of a beating heart and the other gently grooming him as he sobs. He feels his friend, his sole companion in his lonely journey, press their lips on the crown of his head, and in a warm whisper: “You have me.”

His arms, his gangly and hairy arms clasp behind their back, embracing them tightly and takes a deep breath. Taking in the comforting scent, their scent, a scent that reminisce of home and happy times. “Thank you, my beloved friend. Thank you.”

#sun wukong #journey to the west #jttw #xiyouji #OC Wander #fluffy #angst with comfort #monkey king #one short #dragon boat festival #dont ask me how many sources i had before writing this #For my friend Pardal #Cant believe i forgot to drop this for your birthday!!! Forgive me!#no beta we die like Macaque #if you like the story and my previous ones then feel free to send me an ask or prompts!

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cielleduciel · 9 months

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BIG MAJOR GRAVITY CIRCUIT SPOILERS but i've been crazy ever since i watched jane finish the game so i have to write an essay about it and i know no one is gonna read all this shit but whatever. fuck. i'm still thinking about nega. like, what is it like to get left behind by yourself. you were you for thousands of years and then the thing that made you YOU leaves you and becomes someone else who is you but not YOU as you are. were? are?

like imagine, since the very beginning, you WERE the circuit, the circuit was YOU, you were carried through every new host, every body that fell apart. you probably took it for granted. if you lose one body, the circuit will find or make a new one, and then you'll wake up and pick up where you left off. a cycle of immortality that lasted thousands of years, only to end at the hands of a single. random. process error.

one deviation and that which made you YOU, which WAS you, leaves you behind, and suddenly you are mortal, and dying, and all your thousands of years could end in a second, and it would never matter, because you aren't YOU anymore. the thing that was you is someone else now, and you are a ghost apart, a damaged vessel filled to bursting with more years of life than any one body should carry, with too many memories that should never have been left behind

and this new you-not-you may not have your memories but it has taken your name, your title, your place. it does have your instincts and it does save your life, now fragile and transient, just as you once did for others. it does know your old comrades, who recognize the new one as their own, as YOU. but it isn't.

but then, isn't it? you have no future with them, not as you are: sundered, temporary, scrounging for scrap so you can prolong your "life" just that little bit longer, while they go on living, effortlessly, together with the new you-not-you. there's no place for you like this. you can't keep up-- you'll fall apart-- they'll all outlive you-- and you realize you've suddenly become a stranger to everyone, including yourself.

you take a new name. nega. negative, never, nothing, not, none. defined by the absence of the presence that once was you. a dying star, a black hole, a Gravity but twisted, and hungry, pulling and searching and reaching to fill the void. and you mark the new presence, the new Gravity Circuit, and you feel the tether. perhaps some lingering vestige of the purpose that once cloaked you. you pick up the tatters that remain and stitch together a new, threadbare mantle. you teach him. you guide him. you test him. through it all, you stay close to him, that you might-- what? bear witness to your new self's growth? shepherd your new self unto the future? grasp at the shreds of the memory of what you used to be? bide your time so you might take back what's yours? test if you are even--have ever been--worthy of it at all? all of the above?

i keep thinking, when nega confronted kai--his old-new self--did a small part of him hope that kai would fail? did he secretly hope that kai's inexperience might be his downfall, so that he might defeat him, destroy his body, and get the Gravity Circuit back? that he might finally reclaim that essence which defined him, that he might be kai, himself, again?

and maybe the copy/rewrite process would've overwritten your memories anyway. maybe whoever you are or were was already lost to that irreversible state of impermanence wrought and thrust upon you by the whims of fate, but would it even matter? if you felt like you had the chance to be YOU again? even if it meant becoming a different you? wouldn't you reach for that chance? wouldn't you do anything?

but none of it matters, because that's not what happens. your chance is lost, but more likely it never existed in the first place. the death of you, your old self, was certain from the start. you have to let the new self grow. you have to let go of your self as you once knew it, cast off the mantle, and sever the tether.

in reality, claiming the commander circuit was the only thing nega could've done, but not just because every life they fought for depended on its existence. it's also because nega was the only one who could do it, and know what it meant, and welcome it. it's because it was his only way to move forward. he needed to become something else--to die, even if not literally, so that his new life, his new self, may live and flourish and carry their purpose into the future.

this is mirrored by the presumed death of the circuits' Masters and their mission, the circuits' desire to break free and build a new life, and the Commander Circuit, who desperately clings to their defunct mission, is buried so that the others may freely forge their new path, swears to destroy all they've built in order to resurrect the past-- and how he was destined to fail. as this cycle, of life, and of all things in the universe, can't be avoided forever, and can never be reversed. gravity, energy, entropy. death, into rebirth, into death. nega must face this truth in the end, as well.

we don't see what happens to nega after the circuit takes him. he tells us that when a circuit takes a new host, the old personality is overwritten, but we don't know the details. is the original person gone forever? is it just suppressed temporarily? does the commander circuit work entirely differently due to its nature? it doesn't really matter, though, because now nega as we knew him is gone, and that's how it must be, and how it was always going to be.

#gravity circuit #gravity circuit spoilers #chewing on my phone as i write this. i love video games

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holly-fixation · 3 months

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Three... Guards? Ch12

Summary: Tifa finds Cloud at the train station in Sector Seven. It’s the first time she’s seen him in seven years. But he’s not alone. Three silver haired boys protected him. Three silver haired boys that triggered memories of her hometown. Of steel through her chest. Of SOLDIER First Class. Of Him.

This time, her world is not the one burning.

Please Enjoy!

Inspired by the prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Chapter 12: Rejection

“Cloud. I’m confused. Where is the rest of your group? Are you alright? You’re certainly different than before,” The white haired boy in a lab coat questioned immediately upon seeing Strife and Genesis.

“Who is this odd child?” the redhead spoke first.

Strife ignored the comment, not like he knew the answer anyway. “Where-?”

“Wait a moment,” the boy cut him off while holding the side of his monocle, projections glowing within the small glass, “according to the cameras, you’re still in the lab with your group. How is this possible?”

“Long story. How did they get into the labs?”

“Two of the triplets showed themselves on the lab camera. As potential specimens, they were allowed entry.”

“Am I a potential specimen?” Genesis questioned.

Cladley scanned the redhead over. “I apologize. Hojo shows no interest in your SOLDIER type.”

Strife sighed, slowly pulling up his sleeve. Black blemishes oozed on the skin of his arm. “What about me?”

Chadley stared intently at the bruises, his glasses whirring with digital analysis. “I must say this is incredibly interesting. Hold on. Scanning Professor Hojo's potential specimens criteria. Scanning complete. New protocol authorized. I must take samples to the lab right away.”

“Can you keep the door open behind you?”

* * *

The fuming screech ricocheted through the chamber. The smell of burning flesh hit like a wall. The pain reverberating from the boys nearly touched the air itself. The headless body blazed. Every sinew crumbled to ash, and strands of black lifestream weaved their sluggish descent to The Planet like a poisoned waterfall. The flames crackled behind the same silhouette of the Silver Soldier in silent rage, just as they did in Cloud and Tifa’s hometown.

He launched up the bridge without warning, Cloud clashing his attack with the Buster Sword in the nick of time.

“How dare you.” For once, He wasn’t looking at the blond, the playful smirk sheared from his lips to a barely perceptible snarl. Inhuman eyes stared daggers straight at the boy brazen enough to reject every internal instinct imaginable.

Loz and Yazoo couldn’t pull their eyes away from the fire, weaseling out of Aerith and Tifa’s grips. They casted every spell they knew to snuff out the flames and even ran past Him to save Her. They wanted to- needed to help Mother, but it was far too late as the remainder of Her soul left Her body. The long haired one turned back to the real threat and barely had time to protect his brother.

The demon before them gathered wind in His right hand and knocked the boys over the edge, both of them dangling from the railing. “Out of my way.”

Cloud, somehow, pushed the silver soldier back, the man barely staying on His feet with Masamune in hand.

He was weak.

Mako blue eyes twitched, a single and glance step taken closer to the creature once called Mother. He glanced up, as if someone above shouted his name. Then the man grew a cheshire grin. “The Reunion… It’s not over. It cannot be stopped.” His dark chuckle lofted through the massive chamber until the last of the Lifestream dripped from the ashes.

A swirl of black smoke consumed Him, and when it dissipated, a man in a tattered black cloak fell to the ground with a groan, a tattooed 49 his shoulder visible through a hole in the rags.

Cloud ignored the body as he ran to the boys and helped them off the ledge. “Are you guys okay?”

They didn't answer him. They just ran to Jenova's body. Or realistically, Her ashes. They reached through the powder, Loz sobbing as Yazoo allowed silent tears flow down his cheeks. They searched and searched, but not a single cell of Mother's remained, the crumbling dust already dead in their hands.

Loz suddenly stood and in a blur of blue appeared in front of the youngest brother and decked him.

Kadaj fell to the ground, not lifting a single hand to fight back. He only curled up on the ground like a helpless turtle as the eldest continued the assault.

“What did you do!?” The strongest kicked him, launching him into the one armed father’s legs that stood like a wall. No one ever heard him angry before.

“Hey hey! Cut it out!” Barret shouted, aiming his weapon. Red leaped in front and guarded the downed child.

Tifa suddenly pulled the largest into her hold.

“Why!? Why did you hurt Mother!? Why is she dead!? Why why WHY!?”

“Loz, stop it!” Tifa yelled right in his ear, and the wince forced him back to reality, a whale leaving his lips.

“She doesn't want us here…” the youngest whispered, but they all heard it, a drop of blood rolling down his mouth.

“...What do we do now…?” Yazoo asked softly, his knees still in the ashes, the tips of his hair brushing into the remains as he held Her nameplate to his chest. Aerith came up behind him and rubbed his back soothingly.

“Tifa! Barret!” The sudden call gained nearly everyone's attention. It was Strife, the Cloud from the future, followed by a man in red none of them recognized.

“Good to see you made it, blondie!” Barret called back.

“What the hell happened?!”

“We’ll explain in a second! Can you give Tifa a hand?” Aerith requested in the kindest tone she could manage.

Strife nearly groaned before launching over the beast and one armed father to take Loz from the martial artist. “Calm down.”

“Go to hell!”

The wolf readjusted his grip, locking the boy in place and growling directly in his ear. “Calm. Down.”

Even through grief, the threat was not lost on him. He grabbed at his own face, his body shaking as he forced himself to stay back but couldn’t hide his shouts. Strife glanced at everyone in silent question but the three boys consumed all attention.

Cloud was already at Kadaj’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder and trying to encourage him to stand.

“Just let us die…” came the youngest’s voice.

“After all the trouble we just went through to save your little ass? I don’t think so!” Barret stated.

“The Planet sent you back with a purpose,” Red reminded. “Don’t squander it yet-”

“What purpose…?! To kill Mother…?! To know she rejected us because we failed and never let us forget…?! Because of what He did…?! Because He made us, knowing we were never worthy and knowing we never will be!?” Kadaj screamed through angry tears, staring past Red directly at their real Big Brother, seeing the silent question clear as day. “Mother’s dead! I killed Her! We serve no purpose now! You won! Your kind won! Just take your stupid friends and leave us to die…”

“There has to be another way!” Loz denied.

“That’s not true and you know it…” Yazoo stood, tightening his grip on the helmet. “Our only existence is to wait for death now…”

“Spending your time waiting for the inevitable is a waste to all no matter the age,” The redhead interjected, his expression hard as stone. “A life’s purpose can be replaced. I know that all too well.”

“And who the hell are you…?!”

He stared daggers through mako blue eyes. “Someone who knows that even if you do crave death, you should await its grasp outside this compound or you will be in Hojo’s grasp once more.”

“If Hojo lets us live after what I’ve done.”

The kitten’s hissing quickly irritated the newest member, but he directed his energy to the group. “My name is Genesis Rhapsodos. In a former life, I was SOLDIER First Class. I stand before you now just wanting to aid The Planet.” He gestured to the blond in black. “I broke Strife here out of Shinra’s underground dungeon. He filled me in on the way up. I know everything now. Tifa. Barret. Aerith. Cloud. Red. And the three remnants of the man who was once my greatest friend: Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo.”

Strife only nodded to confirm his words and confirm the trust the team could place in him.

“If you have any questions, I would save them until we escape this Goddess forsaken city.”

“I don’t wanna leave…” Loz sobbed, quickly petering out. “I don’t wanna leave Mother here alone…”

“Here,” Cloud handed the boy an empty potion bottle. “Fit as much as you can in this. She won’t be alone if she’s with you. But we have to go.”

The triplets finally accepted their words, Kadaj carefully maneuvering to his feet as Loz and Yazoo contained all they could fit. The long haired boy refused to leave the helmet behind, and the short haired boy kept the small potion container close to his heart.

Just as the women and older brothers began their way across the bridge, the youngest began shaking with every step forward, struggling to hold his own weight. Once again, the younger blond came to the rescue, offering his hand without a word.

“I can take him, Cloud,” Genesis suggested, not expecting the mako blue glare or the near hiss in response.

“I’ll protect him. Make sure the other two behave.”

Since Cloud was the clear leader of this group, the man in red surrendered, walking ahead.

“You sure, blondie? I can fight one armed no problem.”

The ex-SOLDIER lifted the boy, the child wrapping his arms around his neck. The child buried his head in the man’s shoulder, shuddering and crying softly against him. “I’m positive. I got him.”

Barret and Red shared a look before shrugging, but Strife watched in complete confusion. He always sacrificed himself first, making someone else take care of the little ones while he fought. He knew Cloud was far too attached to the remnants but he didn’t understand why.

The ever growing party continued to an elevator on the other side of the chamber. To their surprise, it worked. Only Red’s expression showed his suspicion, with Strife and Genesis feeling it too.

Deep within the lab’s control room sat Hojo, who laughed as he allowed the team entry to the top floor, the president’s floor. He laughed joyously as his theory was proven correct before his very eyes, and how the world was not ready for the next step in Sephiroth’s plan.

Whatever that may be.

To be continued…

Thanks for reading!

Chapter List

#ffvii #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #jenova #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #barret wallace #red xiii #genesis rhapsodos #hojo ffvii #fanfic #fanfiction #kadaj ff7 #loz ff7 #yazoo ff7

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areyousecretlynormal · 1 year

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okay okay but I just had the SLUTTIEST thought about low honor arthur:

imagine our man holding up a stage coach, having the driver and husband jump in the river, cutting the horses free, already stuffing his satchel full of the bills from their pockets and the valuables tucked into the trunks

imagine the classy southern bell left behind heaving in her corset, heart fluttering under her breast, clutching at her fan for dear life as though it could protect her from a wayward bullet, wondering if there was any possible way she could dissuade this bearish brute of a man cloaked in black and leather to let her go without tainting her reputation

imagine this stranger growling under his breath, unsatisfied by what he finds, and turns slow and serpent-like to peer at her with a baleful, jeweled sea foam eye—warns her of his disappointment, tells her all low and beguiling that she just may have to add to the pot so he doesn’t come away empty-handed for his precious, courteous time (and she knows he’s snarling at that behind his tattered bandana, eyes crinkling at the edges like a puma baring its fangs)

her breath catches and she begs him, pleads with him to let her be—she would give anything

and arthur stops

and he smiles

and asks her to remove her untouched, pale cotton dress—decorated with the most delicate of stitching and embroidery, beads of semi-precious stones lining the hems to glitter in the harsh midsummer afternoon—and her jewelry, too, while she’s at it, wouldn’t want anything to snag

and she’s whimpering and whining and trembling as she loosens her outer garments with unsteady fingers. the fine garment is draped over his arm, the gold and silver and jewels stored away in his pocket, rather than his satchel, and even her shoes are tucked under his elbow. she’s left pressing her back as deeply into the skewed wall of the carriage as she can manage, eyes burning with unshed tears of unbearable shame, when the outlaw does something worse:

he leans in,

and angles his face towards her ear,

so close she could smell the gun oil and saddle leather and juniper in the hot, smothered air trapped between them—

“please don’t, mister,” she whispers tightly.

he chuckles. “it ain’t for me, madame,” and he draws out that latter syllable in a sinfully syrupy drawl.

she frowns then, confused, as he draws back and reaches down to tuck his cattleman into its holster dipping over his hip—and catches the glimpse of a platinum band on his finger

“thank you,” he rumbles, thunder and purr all at once, “for your kind and considerable donation.” his sneer is borderline feral. “I look forward to decoratin’ the missus with your decollage when I get home.”

(don’t imagine arthur catching you unawares peeling potatoes or washing dishes or hanging clothes on the line, flipping the length of the dress over your much plainer, dirty one—“size looked ‘bout right. didn’t spend too much time lookin’, don’t you worry your pretty li’l head, darlin’.”

definitely don’t imagine him insisting you try it on, waiting for you with the matching pieces to place on your ears and wrists and neck, eyes sparkling like the stones casting delicate fractals against your flesh under the warm morning light, grinning from ear to ear and tugging you against his unyielding body to croon in your ear:

“spoilin’ you has turned me right rotten, sweetheart. though as nice as all this is…it’d look better on the ground by far.”)

#don’t look at me #I don’t even LIKE lh!arthur!#where did this COME from in my BRAIN?!#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan #reader insert #arthur morgan/reader #headcanons #citrus #(mildly)#mine

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sweetsuke · 10 months

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i've officially joined ithaeli nation!! i can't stop thinking about them dzvbbcbbbgdd

putting my thoughts about them under the cut because. it's A Lot

okay here's just a rundown of why i initially thought they'd be neat together:

-they both wear hoods that cover the majority of their hair and things that cover the majority of their face

-they both have a connection to nature (eli with animals, ithaqua with the forest/wind)

-each of them are self-assured in their abilities

-both will do anything for those they love

-they have similar color palettes

now a specific scenario that won't leave my mind:

i'm thinking about eli's owl being injured during a duo match, maybe it sprains one of its wings or its eye is injured. regardless, it doesn't make its way back to eli during the match, not even when he's chaired and sent back to the mansion. eli, immediately assuming the worst, refuses to use his foresight for fear of what he'll see - his owl bleeding out in a clearing, or crushed underneath a pallet, all alone and unable to return to him. after all, that's the only reason it wouldn't come back, right?

cut to ithaqua, who's just finished a duo match. right before heading back to the manor, he spots a lump of feathers poking out of a group of bushes nearby - when he approaches it, he discovers an injured owl, who begins snapping its beak in defense as he gets closer. ithaqua is a new hunter, so he doesn't immediately recognize it as the seer's owl. instead, he simply sees an injured animal. ithaqua coos gently at the owl until it trusts him enough to pick it up, and then he cradles it in his tattered cloak before bringing it back to the mansion. he's a recluse by nature, so he doesn't share his discovery with the hunter he'd played the match with; it was none of their business, anyhow. (what he doesn't know is that the other hunter had been the one to injure the owl, who all the rest of the hunters had come to realize could take hit for a survivor and recover fine).

after returning to his room on the hunter's side of the manor, itahqua bandages the owl's wounds and catches rats and mice for it to eat since it can't hunt for itself. the owl grows to like ithaqua, who treats it with respect and doesn't seem to have any ulterior motive behind his actions. after the owl is recovered enough, ithaqua releases it outside, where it disappears into the nearby forest. ithaqua is happy to see it fly, even if he's a little sad to watch it go because he'd grown fond of it.

cut back to eli, who's basically given up on his owl ever returning at this point. it's been weeks by now, and he's come to accept the fact that something terrible happened to his beloved owl. he still hasn't used his foresight to see what happened to it, hating what he knew he'd see. he's been useless in matches since then, unable to help his teammates as he used to without the support of his owl.

and then, during a match one day - eli's owl reappears. he barely registers the familiar bird call before it barrels into him from the air, cooing excitedly and pecking him affectionately as it returns to its perch on his shoulder as if it had never left. eli is so happy he cries. and so, so confused. his owl looks no worse for wear, despite having been gone for so long. he can't imagine where it'd been, why it had left; but his overwhelming relief is what takes precedence. he wins that match with the newfounded hope that comes from reuniting with a missing friend.

sometime later, maybe only a couple of days, eli is taking part in another match. it's against a hunter he's never met before, one that his fellow survivors speak of with worried voices: a hunter on stilts, as fast as the wind and as vicious as winter. eli focuses on decoding the second the match starts, set on staying out of the fray and protecting his teammates from afar. he uses his foresight to observe the hunter, watches the way the hunter moves as it chases the unfortunate doctor. he watches as the hunter downs his teammate, calls for his owl to move before his vision comes true. and then the weirdest thing happens: he watches as his owl swoops in to receive the attack meant for the doctor, only for the hunter to stop short and pause. eli's owl, in a baffling turn of events, lets out a delighted coo and flies up to land on the hunter's shoulder, where it pecks the hunter's masked face affectionately. eli's foresight fizzles out from surprise. deciding to see if he'd somehow miseen, he locates the hunter and approaches it, where sure enough, his owl is excitedly swooping around. eli can't begin to make heads or tails of what's going on.

ithaqua, on the other hand, is ecstatic. the owl friend he'd nursed back to health had shown back up! who cares if the timing wasn't the best? he hadn't expected to see the tiny owl ever again, let alone so soon. he carefully scritches the owl's head, taking care not to injure it with his elongated nails. he doesn't even notice when the survivor he'd been hunting runs away. he does, however, notice when the owl flies off, only to land a short distance away on a different survivor's shoulder. the survivor is unfamiliar, dressed head-to-toe in robes and wearing a strange blindfold. the owl pecks the survivor and coos, and ithaqua realizes the owl belongs to this survivor. oh. he hadn't even considered that the owl belonged to someone. he'd just assumed the owl had gotten injured because it'd been in the area, not because it'd been taking part in the match all those weeks ago. the survivor waves at ithaqua uncertainly, and inthaqua doesn't know how to respond so he activates his wind walk and takes off in the opposite direction.

idk how exactly they'd react to eachother past this point, but i think they'd eventually grow to be friends somehow. and eli's owl would try to wingman them together :3

#idv #identity v #identityv #eli clark #ithaqua #ithaqua idv #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #night watch idv #ithaeli #ithaqua x eli #eli x ithaqua #seer idv #idv seer #idk how to tag for this fandon 😔#my art #these are all from whiteboards with friends btw dhdgnhgbnnnn #need to actually draw them For Real sometime

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viacursecasting · 10 months

Text

The Great Escape.

An Arte X Ivy Drabble

Dozens of outdoor market stalls bustled with activity from enthusiastic merchants and eager shoppers. It was noisy and crowded, yet Arte preferred it that way. It was much easier to keep a low profile.

As he tucked his platinum bangs further into the hood of his tattered cloak, he couldn't help but smirk. He should've felt guilty for escaping the confines of the manor's walls, of eluding the suffocating protection of his guards. Mind you, he was grateful for such luxuries like gourmet food, designer clothes, and the latest tech. But as he overheard lively conversation, as he watched kids chase each other playfully, as his cape billowed in the breeze, he realized…

The wings of freedom were unrivaled.

(At one point he caught a glimpse of a couple sharing a kiss, so he averted his gaze bashfully as thoughts of a certain arachnid swarmed his mind.)

He ambled through the rows of stalls, countless salespeople shouting and shoving products in his face, until he came across what he was looking for.

"Excuse me," he piped up, "but do these come in black?" He gestured to a pair of white leather gloves, padded for combat.

"These?" The seller, an onyx wolf, checked the size. "A bit small for you, no?"

"Ah, they're not for me. They're for my—"

Arte paused. Even though they haven't exactly labeled their relationship, his feelings were undeniable.

But were they reciprocated?

"…colleague," he decided.

"In that case, I'll check in the back." The stall person left him briefly.

Arte checked the time with his silver pocket watch. He probably had a few more minutes until his army of guards realized he was missing. He had to be quick if he wanted to get back home with none the wiser.

Then the seller returned. "There are a few in storage, but you'll have to come with me to see which one suits your needs."

Arte thought it was strange that the merchant didn't just bring out the gloves, but he didn't dwell on it. He followed the salesperson through some heavy curtains.

"NOW!"

Suddenly he was pinned face-first against the wall of a dimly lit storage unit, and he cried out in pain. "What the—!?"

"Did you really think you could fool us with this cheap getup?"

He grunted, trying to free his arms pinned behind his back. "What're you—?"

Multiple footsteps crowded around him. From the corner of his eye, Arte watched as a pack of wolves emerged from the shadows, a dozen pairs of citrine irises glowing menacingly like burning embers. His heart rate spiked.

The alpha spoke up. "After you pulled out that fancy watch, we knew exactly who you were." Two goons yanked off the feline's cowl as well as his timepiece, the one with his family crest on the lid. "Sir Kingsley."

Arte narrowed his eyes. With all his weight he stomped on his captor's foot, making him yelp and back off. The maroon cat then whirled around, drawing his rapier.

The leader cursed. "Get him!"

Arte managed to fend off three or four canines with sharp thrusts and quick parries. However, one managed to overtake him from his left.

Shit, my blind spot! Arte tried to get the ruffian to back off, but then his sword was knocked out of his grasp. He tried to go after it, but then a few thugs tackled him into the wall, making his spine rattle.

He coughed, trying to regain some wind in his lungs, but then a wolf punched his stomach, making him gasp harshly for air.

A chorus of laughter elicited from the gang. Then the alpha stepped forward, wiping blood from his face where the feline managed to nick him. He seethed, "Fucking cats."

One of the goons asked, "Whaddaya reckon we do with 'im, boss?"

The leader hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "A ransom should do nicely. I'm sure the prestigious aristocratic family would pay handsomely for their precious heir." He grinned mischievously. "How about a hundred thousand rings?"

Arte chuckled. "You flatter me, but for that much, my father would probably tell you to get lost."

The alpha snapped his fingers, wordlessly ordering his lackeys to tighten their grip, forcing the cat to shut up. Then he pointed to another member. "You. Grab me a knife. I think if we send one of his dainty fingers to his old man, he'll get the idea. And grab some duct tape to muffle his screams."

More shuffling and guffawing from the pack. Arte struggled with all his might to no avail. He spat, "Why don't you take my middle finger as a souvenir?"

The boss growled. "Why you little—!"

All of a sudden the wolf cried out, collapsing to the floor, and the others looked around in confusion. They frantically drew their weapons, but one by one they were knocked out by a mysterious force.

The canine holding him fell last, and Arte rolled his shoulders in relief. He then scanned the sea of fallen bodies, feeling perplexed as well.

He heard something land behind him, so he turned, sharply met with a glaive pointed at his nose. He could recognize that gleam of silver anywhere. "Ivy?"

The royal blue spider revealed herself from the shadows.

Arte sighed in relief. "Boy, am I glad to see—"

But she kept him at bay with her staff, nicking the tip of his nose. "You damn fool."

Arte gulped. "I'm s—"

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Ivy intervened. "You could have gotten killed!" She narrowed her ambers. "Or worse."

Arte's ears folded back. "You're right. I should've told you. I just…" He sighed defeatedly. "Do you know what it's like to be cooped up for days on end, with little to no privacy?"

A small sense of empathy hit Ivy, but she was careful not to show it.

Arte continued sheepishly, "I also… wanted to surprise you."

"Mission accomplished," Ivy sneered.

"Okay, not like this," Arte explained. "I wanted to surprise you with"—he glanced around, picking something off the shelves in her size—"these."

Ivy eased her stance, receiving the gift. "Gloves?"

Arte nodded. "I noticed you had some calluses on your hands, likely from wielding that glaive all day, so I figured the padding on these might help."

"That's… thoughtful," Ivy admitted. Then she clarified sternly, "But that doesn't mean you're off the hook."

"Oh?" Arte raised a brow teasingly, taking a daring step forward. "And how exactly will you punish me, my lady?"

Ivy had to grit her teeth to avoid getting lost in those crystal pools, to resist that alluring tone. "I'll make sure you're never to leave your estate without at least ten guards and an ankle monitor."

Judging by that steely gaze, Arte realized she wasn't joking, dropping his charms. "Wait, seriously?"

The arachnid turned to leave without remorse, cloak fluttering behind her as she gestured for him to follow. Arte did so begrudgingly.

"However," Ivy began without facing him, "should you ever feel the need to escape, you must take me with you." She looked at him sidelong as she snapped on her new tactical gloves. "Only me."

Arte smiled, happily following in her wake.

#via writing #arte the cat #ivy the spider #arrive #sonic oc #via's cursed cast #sth #blood/#arte kingsley

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