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games-franco · 1 year

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Abducted - Solo TTRPG Playthrough

Example Playthrough

Hi guys, I’ve decided to include an example story created through the use of my system. It’s my first time giving it a whirl too, so fingers crossed it all works out! I’d love to see what stories you all conjure, so feel free to find me on:

Twitter - @games_franc0

Instagram - @games_franc0

Email – [email protected]

Game can be found for FREE through: https://games-franco.itch.io/abducted

Human Set-up

My name is Bron Marlo – I’m a 6’0”, 30-year-old outdoorsman in between jobs at the moment, and as of beginning this journal, I am of sound mind to the best of my knowledge.

I was hesitant to include flaws or insecurities, but I figured I’d start with some for this example to add more backstory to Bron. I see Bron as being a strong male figure with very high walls in his life. He doesn’t mean to keep everyone else at bay, but he’s overtly cautious and has a hard time trusting people.

Alien Set-up

What is the alien’s appearance and disposition? Descriptions in parenthesis going forward will reflect the card I randomly drew as I progressed:

(K♠ – psychic and curious beings)

The alien(s) is a being with a tendency to exhibit advanced psychic or telekinetic abilities. The alien is curious in nature, with a disposition characterized by a desire to learn and explore new things. It is especially curious in learning about human culture and society to see how it compares to their own culture.

What is the alien’s home planet?

(4 - Maelstrom)

The alien is from Maelstrom, a distant planet with a vast ocean and no land masses. Due to the nature of its upbringing, the alien is tall and thin with a semi-humanoid build and smooth rubbery gray skin. Tiny sharp teeth and a bottled face might suggest similarities between their evolutionary process, and the evolutionary process of dolphins on Earth. [FL1] [FL2]

Phase 1 – Abduction (Human)

Journal 2/13/2023:

Where were you abducted from, and when?

(3 - a park; 2 - early in the morning)[FL3]

In my departure from the typical 9-5 job, I’ve taken a liking to strolling through the mountainous forests just outside of town early in the morning. It’s the most I can do while waitlisted to join the park ranger program. The air is always damp from the nearby streams, and nothing is awake yet. The critters never bother me, and they’ve learned that I won’t bother them. I never go out without an axe though, just in case. This isn’t even because of the mountain lions or bears, but because you never know who else is mad enough to be out here this early in the morning with dark ideas (and because of the recent disappearances).

The morning was going like any other, except that usually, around dawn, I’ll hear a symphony of birds or come across a person packing up a tent and getting ready to return into the normal world, but not this time. It was as if nature hit the mute button. I could see the nearby stream, but it made no noise. I could see no birds, no humans. I could’ve sworn I muttered the word “strange” in the midst of it all, but I heard nothing come out of my mouth. The orange tinge of dusk shifted to a muted blue like a camera filter, and a burst of all sounds, as if they had been compiled all morning for a short and compressed sonic blast, erupted above me. I covered my ears and fell to my knees, but felt no dirt or weight. That’s how I knew I’d been taken.

How are you feeling?

(2 - Confusion)

I wasn’t afraid at all throughout the morning, rather, I was confused at the uncharacteristic silence. The confusion continued to build up until the wave of blue light pierced my body and abducted me, which is where I thought I’d get some answers, but it just…continued to make less and less sense.

Phase 2 – Action (Human + Alien)

What room is the human held in?

(K – A room with a series of advanced, high-tech machines or devices you cannot identify)

I came to my senses in a chrome room with what appeared to be a series of advanced, high-tech machines that I’d never seen before. The more I perused, the less sense it all made. I don’t think they were machines at all. Maybe they were gems, or other beings? I tried talking to some of them, but the lack of response is what made me believe that they were probably inanimate objects.

Aside from the strange items laying around the cold, metallic room, I noticed that I was fitted with a skin tight suit of some material that was continuously moving on my skin. It looked like ants at first, thick enough to mask my flesh, which is what prompted my initial reaction to try and swat them away, but they did not interact with my exposed fingers, and continued to move as if nothing had swatted them. For a time, I continued to poke them, slower and slower, and realized that there was always space left between them and my skin. Even if it was to a microscopic degree, I was in fact, not even coming into full contact with them in any of my attempts. Strange

Supplement for room K: What item(s) do you find inside of the room?

(10- The tesseract[FL4] )

I also noticed, possibly the strangest contraption in the room, a construct. It was small, and just there. Some of the items were hung on the wall, or placed on pedestals, but this item was just there, as if the void of nothingness around it was as solid as the remainder of the room[FL5] . Thinking back on it now, its shape is something I cannot imagine or describe now without looking at it, an amorphous tesseract that erased itself from my mind. I actually don’t think it ever had a spot in my mind if I’m being honest. It’s like my eyes couldn’t decipher its structure. I tried touching it, and all I could remember was my hand retracting from it. I don’t have a single memory of ever touching the contraption anchored in space. This is when the confusion morphed into fear a bit. The more I looked at the shape, the more I felt myself forgetting things, like my name, who I was, or even what I was. That initial shock of forgetfulness, like when you wake up and lose grasp of what you’d just dreamt of, made me sick to my stomach, and that’s when I knew I had to get the hell out of that room. [FL6]

I felt like I was being watched through all of this too. I’d heard stories, about being in the woods for too long. No one believed any of the “victims”, so now I’m not sure if they’ll believe me when I get back…if I even get back. [FL7]

Do you explore further? Where do you go?

(7 - room with organic structures)

Supplement for room 7: What organic structure(s) do you find within this room?

(J – a composting area – I have a different interpretation of this, we’ll circle back later)

It’s natural to flee when one is scared, which means it’s natural to run towards a door to flee from a room they’re locked in; however, how does one do this when there is no door or window[FL8] ? I began running towards the emptiest looking wall in this room and banged into it, to no avail. None of the trinkets triggered any door opening, and at this point I was too afraid to look back at the tesseract contraption. After what felt like hours, I felt like I needed to resort to using the tesseract. Looking directly at it again shot fear into my soul like I’d never felt before, and I’ve been face to face with a bear. The scariest things are truly the ones you can’t understand. [FL9]

Again, I cannot express how indescribable this object was. However, as I approached it, the room shifted in dimension like a kaleidoscope. It wasn’t a light effect emanating from tesseract, but the shape of the room would shift, expand, or retract based on my positioning in relationship to the tesseract. I ran towards it at one point, and the faster I ran, the farther it would spatially be from me. If I slowed down, it would get closer again, and if I ever tried to grab it, I’d find myself putting it back where it was with no recollection of how it felt in my hand.

I was beginning to get motion sick and nauseous, since the slightest tilt of my head would trigger a change in the dimensions of this room. The space would literally expand, the objects all around would increase and decrease in size the longer I experimented with the item. I wonder if I was also increasing or decreasing in size along with them?

Eventually, the configurations of the room revealed a long narrow hallway. I could not make out what was on the other side, but it was the first time the room appeared to lead elsewhere not confined to this crystalline prison. After another hour of counterintuitive movements, I progressed through to the hallway and realized I had reached to a point outside of the tesseract’s influence. I was not going to look back now and risk getting caught again. [FL10]

The new area opened up into a new enclosed room. The hallway behind me vanished, and if the items in the previous room were not organic, then these new things certainly were. There was something “alive” about this room. It’s like when you walk through an empty forest and know the trees are alive even though they don’t move or respond to your touch.

Phase 3 – Final Encounter

I did not roll on the phase 3 table, as I had enough of a story to continue without further guidance.

Immediately there was a shift in how the room smelled. There was something acrid, or rotting. Behind some of the machinery and contraptions was a human floating in the middle of the room. She appeared unconscious, so I hid behind some of the equipment strewn about. The room was significantly bigger than the last, and everything seemed to circle the naked woman suspended in the air. She’d be covered and uncovered in the “ants” of her suit – that’s when I realized we were outfitted with the same suit. There was another figure looming in the room opposite of me. It gestured in the air, and the woman rotated, as i[FL11] f it was controlling her movements. The microscopic particles appeared to be forming to her body and then expanding to expose her while drawing globs of a dark slime from her skin. It didn’t look like they were piercing her physically, but they were pulling something out of her, and she was just…floating in it. The cloud around her kept getting thicker and thicker, and I realized it was becoming harder to see her at all.

I had to step up and do something, but I knew I had to arm myself with something before entering the creature’s space, especially since it appeared to be equipped with unknown equipment. The cloudier her space became, the stranger and more pungent the smells within the room would get. In looking through the debris of items hiding me from the alien, I did not find any weapons; however, I realized that the particles of my suit had formed into a rod in my right hand, that materialized into a solid black spear. It’s as if the particles of my suit were in sync with what I was trying to do.

The unknown figure circled closer to me as it paced the room, still facing the woman. Its back towards me, I realized this was not even close to human in appearance. Its skin was glossy and gray, and the proportions of its extremities were lanky. It had a few too many joints compared to those of men.

Before I could scare myself any more, I jumped over the crates in front of me with the black rod I’d acquired raised over my head, ready to drop it on the alien’s head. Just before I collided, I froze mid-air. Something was holding me in place. I was hovering, but nothing was touching me. Had the suit betrayed me? Unlikely, since the rod I was wielding was now in the shape of a dark great axe.

The cloud surrounding the woman loosened, and she descended from stasis slowly as she fell to the ground, still unconscious. The alien’s hand was raised, and it turned around to face me. Human sized black eyes were set far apart on its large, cylindrical gray face and oversized forehead. It opened its mouth, revealing an unsettling number of tiny sharp teeth, and it gestured into the air again, forcing me to lower my battle stance. It looked at my axe, examined it thoroughly without touching it, and appeared to have logged it into a machine that was floating nearby.

I fully expected the creature to respond with fear, or an equal amount of aggression to defend itself, but it seemed unfazed. Its calmness was almost contagious. I say almost, because as soon as I began to let my guard down to relax, my eyes glanced over to see the woman, laying on the ground, unresponsive and now covered in the same suit as me. The globs of darkness still hovered above her.

“Hey! What did you do to her?!” I exclaimed.

The alien lowered its hand, placing me on the ground, and raised its other hand to resume the process with the woman.

“Put her down!” I yelled, as I grabbed my axe, which was already shifting into a functioning black chainsaw.

Both of its arms were now raised, and I could sense a tinge of impatience in its eyes. It leaned its head towards mine, and I could make out a faint voice inside of my head struggling to construct a word:

“Cleansing”, it said. The being was trying to respond, and the only way it could was through the use of its words inside of my mind. Her suit continued to expand and retract.

I felt my axe dissipate, and the being lowered its hand in my direction. I was no longer bound by its psychic abilities…

It continued to circle the woman, and her space became clouded again, obscuring her from view.

“What exactly are you cleansing her of?” I asked. The smell was repugnant now as we both stood around her.

“Clouding”, it said again within my mind. Nothing was making sense. Nothing had made sense since I entered its space.

The alien waves in the air, and collects all of the black globs around the woman. They spiral into one singular, floating liquid ball that shapes itself into an axe, similar to the one I was holding, and it wields it, facing me.

In response, I conjure mine again, and square up against the creature. In its demeanor, I can tell I’ve misunderstood its intentions. It begins to wave with its other hand, while still gripping the axe, and the world begins to warp again, similar to what the tesseract was doing in the previous room. Space converges in the palm of its hand, and I can feel an unnaturally strong pull towards it. Structures and the angles of the room meet in the center of this convergence, and the pull ends as soon as it places the axe within the pull. Everything falls back into place as if nothing happened, and the axe it had drawn from her body is gone.

The alien beckons me towards it, and grabs my axe gently as soon as I approach. It repeats the process with my axe. It was gone.

The creature towers over me, but it crouches down slightly to meet its forehead to mine before speaking in my mind again:

“Understand…” it says, placing its hand in front of me. I couldn’t help but to be compelled into placing my own hand in its place.

“Understand?” I repeat. This amuses the creature. It clarifies:

“Understand everyone. No clouding”

Phase 4 - Outcome

I could feel its frustration. Something, no, someone, so intelligent with a message so profound and with no method of communicating it. My mind is probably what’s limiting its ability to have a conversation with me. It moved me to tears.

For the remainder of my stay, the creature extracted more and more darkness through my suit, until I could vaguely remember our final words. What did it say? I can’t recall now. The dark globs around me made it hard for me to maintain eye contact, and before I knew it, I fell to my knees, in the middle of the forest as I clutched my ears in the morning sun.

I wrote everything down, so as to not let it slip like dreams that evade the mind in the morning – but I’m not so sure I believe it when I read it back to myself. Ever since that morning though, I can’t help but feel lighter and happier with the world around me. I rose from my knees then, dropped my axe, and continued forward. [FL12]

[FL1]This is my first time playing through the game I’d spent weeks creating! I quickly realized that there is no guidance on how to track some of the set-up items, so I just listed them up top as if it were a cast list. Feel free to run with this however it makes sense to you!

[FL2]My goal was always to provide prompts that were descriptive enough, yet vague, to knock over the stack of creative dominos in your mind. I feel like it worked right away for me here, and I was so excited!

The only description I got for the aliens was that they exhibit psychic or telekinetic powers – then I was given the fact that they’re from a planet covered entirely in water and BAM. Dolphin aliens.

[FL3]I swear I imagined a character resembling a lumberjack before drawing these cards, so being abducted in a PARK early in the MORNING was perfect for an unemployed woodsman. Poetic really.

I interpreted park as “nature reserve” or “camping ground” for this case for some reason, and I would like to emphasize that these personal interpretations are heavily encouraged throughout your journaling journey.

[FL4]We’re going to discover what this is, because I have no idea what it is right now.

[FL5]I want to go on record saying that I also encourage nonsensical rambling and no cohesive or grammatical correctness in any of these journals. Present tense, past tense, jumble that all up. Long sentences, short sentences, do it all! It’s a journal, not a novel.

[FL6]This spawned so naturally, I was very happy with this result. I was also worried about how moving from room to room would work, especially since you don’t have to explore more if you don’t want to, but this progressed so seamlessly. It’s just what Bron would do in this case, and I had to let him explore that.

[FL7]Unexpected lore ooh. Now it’s canon that this alien, or group of aliens (not even sure at this point since I haven’t written any more) have been coming to these woods for a while. Interesting…

[FL8]I realized how “human” the concept of doors and windows were. If there is an alien species out there that can traverse through walls, what use would they have for doors, walls, or any barriers at all really? I love exploring the world building that comes with creating a new intelligent species.

[FL9]An inherent weakness to the character that made its way into the journal.

[FL10]I had drawn a card for a new room 3 paragraphs ago, but realized that getting out of the first room and going into another could be an adventure of its own. I felt like I was sinking into quicksand there!

[FL11]I had intended to follow the game instructions in order to showcase all of the phases distinctly in this example, but instead, I’ve accidentally showcased how loose the guidelines can be once executed. It felt natural to introduce the alien here, so I merged the “Final Encounter” phase with the “Action Phase” in the second room I ventured into. The “Outcome Phase” should follow naturally shortly after 😊

My point is: Don’t let the game rules dictate the flow of your story! It should flow naturally without restrictions.

[FL12]I’m a fan of open ends, so this wraps up my story perfectly for my tastes. I was surprised at how the axe became an important aspect of the story. Maybe Bron had some things he was holding on to too tightly?

I created this game to explore fear, insecurity, and uncertainty. I included the potential for evil malicious aliens, as well as curious benevolent aliens. In this example, I explored the latter, which in my opinion is a bit harder to make “fun”. I’m glad this is where I started too, because I did have fun exploring this idea, and ended up expressing a message about mindfulness in a way I might not have been able to without the human character I created or the prompts I randomly drew.

I can’t wait to see what other worlds this game manages to open up! I hope it brings as much joy to all of you as it has for me 😊

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alice-angel12x · 3 years

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Naga! BakuDekuShoto X (fem)Mermaid!Reader

Part 2. Here

Y/n is warned to never go near the surface by her pod. She's been going near the surface every night and very early at dawn, sunrise to relax, sing, watch the sunset. Being a mermaid had its many blessing and curses. They were creatures of great beauty and magic, from their beautiful voices to the powerful magic in just a single tear. So naturally, they were secretive creatures.

A great lake deep in the forest of Atigus, a large pod of Merpeople lived in this lake. A lake so deep it could have been mistaken for the deepest part of the ocean. Living so far down in the deeps, they were a bit isolated from the many magical and grand creatures that also inhabit the forest.

Yet Y/n was a curious individual and would swim near the surface, in hopes of seeing another creature. Thought she was smart enough to know that there is one creature that she must avoid at all costs, Man. Yet She would brave the bright surface, and sing out to no one in particular.

One day as she ventured to the surface at sunset, she began to sing into the wind. As she rested on the lake's edge, she suddenly felt a painful sting on her shoulder. Y/n gasped in pain, but her body became so heavy suddenly and lost all control. As she laid there motionless, as she heard the snicker and the strange language of humans.

The humans quickly slumped the unconscious mermaid onto their backs and tried to find their way back to the village. Yet as they walked down the path, they could feel predatory eyes watching them.

As one of the humans looked around, they noticed that special markings were etched into the tree's around them.

"Oh no, we have walked into Naga territory," one of the humans gasped in horror.

As the two trembled, a large shadow engulfed them. The tallest stood up to 9 feet in height, standing above them, while the shortest stood 7 feet. They couldn't begin to fathom how long these nagas could be. These giants glared down at the small humans that had invaded their territory.

Dealing with the humans was simple, yet something did catch one of their eyes. The smaller green naga noticed the abandoned creature on the ground.

"What is that?" The freckled naga wondered.

"It looks like to be a humanoid creature like us," a red and white naga commented as he leaned over the mermaid.

"Yet, it's not. Its scales look strange and its tail is so short, it's the same size as those pathetic humans," The ashy blond Naga scoffed as he picked the mer by her tail.

"K-kacchan! Careful," the green-haired naga gasped.

"Why does it look like part fish?" The red and white naga asked, " You should be careful, Bakugo."

"Whatever, Deku," Bakugo scoffed, as he tossed the body over to green Naga.

"Nice catch Midoriya," The red and white naga commented.

"Thanks, Shoto," Izuku sighed as he got a closer look at the creature.

"So what do you think it is?" Shoto asked.

" It must be some water-faring creature, other than that I'm not sure," Izuku said as he held the mermaid close. " It would be nice to speak to her about it. Maybe I could hold onto her, F-for a little while."

"Why?" Shoto asked.

"Probably cause this will be the only female that can't walk out on him for better a mate," Bakugo commented.

"I think you may be projecting a little, Bakugo," Shoto commented.

Bakugo scoffed and slithered off somewhere else, as Izuku and Shoto stood in awkward silence.

"S-so does that mean I can? N-Not for the reason that he said!" Izuku said quickly.

"I'd... Certainly hope not," Shoto said simply.

_________________________

As Y/n slowly came to her senses, she could feel something odd. As she slowly opened her eyes, she noticed that this body of water was barely deep. Plus something was wrapped around her, it felt strange.

She slowly opened her eyes, to see that the surface of the water was just a foot above her head. And wrapped around her waist was a tail, a snake tail. Y/n tensed slightly, but the creature felt her movement and quickly tightened its hold.

She was suddenly pulled up above the surface and was face to face with a freckly face with forest green eyes. His eyes were full of wonder and curiosity as he inspected Y/n very closely.

Y/n wanted to scream, yet remained frozen. Not only was she unsure of this creature, but also intimidated by its great size. She never felt so small and helpless.

"what are you? And who are you?" Deku asked as he muttered other questions.

"A-a mermaid, my name is Y/n," Y/n squeaked nervesly.

"Ah, like an Oceanid," Izuku smiled." I-i have to write this down, I have so many questions."

As his tail wraps more around Y/n, she watches as the snake man turns to gather his parchment paper. They were covered in writings and notes about almost anything. Before Y/n could get a grasp of what was happening, she was drowned in the naga's curious questions. He must have not been paying too much attention as he tightened his hold.

"C-can't...Breath," Y/n whimpered as she passed out.

------------- Deku suddenly felt Y/n go slack, he stopped rambling and quickly looked at her.

"AHh! Y/n," Izuku gasped as he quickly placed her back in the small watering hole.

"Oi, killed it already," Bakugo laughed mockingly.

"N-no, Y/n passed out," Izuku said nervesly.

"So what is she?" Shoto asked as he tried to get a better look.

"An Oceanid, but she calls herself a mermaid," Izuku said as he put down his notes.

"Hmm, well what were those humans doing with one?" Shoto asked.

"Probably harvest her for magical properties. If they can't possess magic on their own, then they will take it," Bakugo scoffed simply.

"Well, I'm glad we came across those humans then," Izuku said with a relieved sigh.

___________

After a couple of weeks, Y/n grew used to Izuku and his curiosity. She would learn many things about him, that he was defiantly a curious Naga and a very emotional one. Will cry a river at any strong emotion he feels. Y/n could only hope that this small pool of water was not his tears. She would learn a bit about his other two companions.

Bakugo is the most prideful and skilled of the three. Always going off how he will be the best and rise the ranks among their kind. Shoto on the other hand seemed very calm out of the three. Almost to the point where he seemed indifferent about everything, though he takes everything very seriously.

Izuku would also learn a lot about her and her home in the great lake. How they knew many great magical treasures and plants within Atigus. It was just so fascinating to him, and it felt so nice to have someone discuss the magical phenomena with him.

As Y/n rested in Izuku's coils, a question came to mind.

"Hey Izuku, you've been so sad as of late. What is making you so sad?" Y/n asked.

"Um, it's a little embarring to talk about, but... The season of union is coming to an end soon. And during this time Nagas begin to pair and bond, and we bond for life. Sadly a girl I had my heart set in already bonded with someone else. So I may just end up being unpair," Izuku explained.

"What about Bakugo and Shoto?" Y/n asked.

"Well, most are annoyed or frightened by him, and would rather stay far away from him. And Shoto, has a bit of a hard time, umm, connecting to others," Izuku said slowly and awkwardly.

"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that. I can't see why you would not find someone. Your sweet and so kind," Y/n smiled as she rested her harms on his coils.

Izuku's face turned a bright red as his tail tightened slightly. His heart fluttered in his chest as he stared down at his Oceanid friend.

"Y-you really think so?" Izuku mumbled, as his eyes watered.

"Despite your timid nature, you are willing to help though in need. Even if they may not deserve it," Y/n smiled up at him.

"Thank You Y/n," Izuku thanked as he cried waterfalls as hugged Y/n closely.

"Though you can be a bit of a cry baby," Y/n winced as she was drenched in tears.

But he didn't hear the last comment as he hugged her close.

----------------

"Shouldn't you be returning Y/n to the great lake, Surely she would like to return to her home and family," Izuku's friend Iida asked.

As the two patrolled the large Naga territory. Izuku's heart began to thump in his chest in a panic at the thought. The thought had many times came across his mind, but the thought of parting with her. Tore his heart apart.

-----------------

"Oh, you're still here?" Shoto asked as he entered the cave.

"Umm, have been for this past Month Shoto," Y/n said as she poked her head above the water.

"Izuku must hold you dearly if he hasn't returned you home yet," Shoto said as he found a comfy spot and laid down.

"Y-you think so?" Y/n asked nervesly.

"Hmm, don't you miss your family? I'm surprised you haven't asked him to return you," Shoto commented.

As Y/n studied him, she could feel something about those words. Like it wasn't just meant for you to answer.

"Are Nagas not close to their parents?" Y/n asked.

"Um, not all, but most," He said with a slightly sad look.

"What about you, if it's not too personal?" Y/n asked.

Shoto stayed silent for a time, as he slowly touched the burn on his face. " I could care less what my father is up to, but I... I do wonder how my mother is doing after she ran away from me and my dad," Shoto said sadly.

"W-why would she do that?" Y/n gasped.

"She said my left side and red scales looked too much like my horrible father. She burned the left side of my face and ran," Shoto answered as he covered his scar. " I was too horrible for her to look at."

Y/n frowned sadly at his story and pulled herself up onto the dry ground. She slowly approached Shoto's tail as she awed at his lovely scales.

"Your white scales shine like pearls, and the red ones look like rubies, your so lovely, Shoto," Y/n said in a soft tone.

Shivers ran up his spine as he felt the warm fingers slide across his scales. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly coiled his tail around her.

"Y-you couldn't possibly mean that," Shoto said slowly.

"Of course I do. You know if you smiled more, maybe the ladies or gentlemen would flock to you," Y/n smiled.

"Flock? Like... Birds?" Shoto asked, really confused.

"No silly, I mean many would find you more approachable," Y/n laughed.

Her laugh was so small and cute, he could help but tighten his hold on her. He could feel her warmth on his scales as he slowly leaned in closer to her.

"If you're doing what I think you're doing, then you two are disgusting," Said a voice.

The two quickly turned to see Bakugo, who came back from a hunting outing. A large boar was slung over his shoulder as he entered the cave.

"Find a different part of the cave to suck each other's face," Katsuki grumbled.

"Why would we do that?" Shoto asked with pure confusion.

"Cause It's decent," Bakugo growled.

"No, why would we suck each other's faces?" Shoto asked again.

"I'm done with you," Bakugo scoffed.

_____________

Shoto and Izuku had to eventually leave to do a final scout turn, leaving Bakugo and Y/n. Bakugo had no interest in talking to the mermaid and did his own thing, by cooking the boar he caught. Y/n with nothing to do hummed to herself, her voice echoing off the walls of the cave.

"So you were the source of that voice," Bakugo said suddenly.

"Ummm... I was right next to you. How did you not know until now?" Y/n asked with a deadpanned look.

"No, every time around sunset I could hear something in the wind. A voice, singing," Bakugo said simply.

"Oh, I thought I was just singing to myself," Y/n said bashfully.

"More like to the whole forest," Bakugo huffed.

"Was I okay?" Yn asked slowly.

"You were definitely better than those harpies who think they can sing," Bakugo scoffed, turning away to hide his red ears.

"That is so sweet of you to say," Y/n said, slightly touched.

"Tch. Well, I don't really care for the noise of rain, you can keep doing what you were doing," Bakugo said slowly.

Y/n smiled at the tsundere naga and continued her song.

_________________

(3 weeks later)

Y/n and the three nagas grew closer and closer during the 3 weeks. The season of Union was quickly coming to a close, but tensions were high among the three males.

One morning, Shoto had his tail wrapped protectively around Y/n's sleeping form when he heard a soft but challenging hiss. Looking up sightly he could see it was Izuku. Izuku's usual large round pupils were now slits, as his serpentine tongue flicked between his lips.

"Yes, Izuku?" Shoto asked coldly.

"Your turn to patrol soon, maybe you should let her go now," Izuku said as nicely as possible, as he slowly inched closer.

Shoto tensed as Izuku slowly got closer. Shoto's pupils quickly turned to slits as he hissed back. Y/n was unable to sleep through the loud noises coming from the two.

"What's with all the noise," Y/n groaned sleepily, as she untangled herself from Shoto's coils.

"Would you shut it you two," Bakugo growled, as he pulled Y/n's sleepy form closer to him.

"B-bakugo, careful," Izuku hissed.

"I am," Bakugo said simply.

"Don't you both have someplace to be?" Izuku said with a slight hiss.

"W-what are you all fighting about?" Y/n asked, slightly more awake.

________________________

Pt.2 maybe?! I don't know

#naga au #mha bakugou #Mha #Bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Naga Izuku #mha izuku #izuku midoria x reader #izuku midoriya #shoto torodoki #shoto x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #naga bakugou #Naga shoto #fantasy au

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

Could we pls get part 2 for ‘Weaponized Villain’? 👀👀

-whumpilicious

Thank you so much for this ask!

So I neglected rereading the other part. Villain's tongue is meant to be cut off, but he talks in this. Just let's pretend that he has like a voice speaking box or something, I apologize for this.

Weaponized Villain Part 2

Part 1

@whumpilicious @the-sky-writes @maracujatangerine @kim-poce @octopus-reactivated

Warnings: sedation/anesthesia mention, semiconsciousness, drugged character, past body surgey, body modifications, unconscious character, guilt, descriptions of procedure, conditioning, dehumanization, weaponizing, blood drawing, blood tests, syringes and needles, delirium, hospital setting

There were six doctors in that room, and ten nurses. All just stared; no effort was made to advance to help the barely conscious human on the gurney.

All their fingers twitched, curling around various surgical implements and syringes decked with needles. One even aimlessly dangled a stethoscope from their tensed fingers and with the deep metallic armor protecting the weakened body underneath, it would serve no purpose.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Hero rapsed, a slight squeak to the pitch in her voice as her emerald eyes rapidly glistened over the stunned faces of the medics.

"There are wires literally connected to the ends of his nerves. I don't even know how that's physically possible," one of the doctors informed the concerned hero with a faint knowing tone to his voice. He glanced at the lightly trembling hero before averting his eyes. "If we remove them," he continued, "we could give him permanent nerve damage."

Hero gaped, trotting over to the bed where the injured man laid upon. They were able to safely remove some of the metal mask, revealing tangles of wires and humming boxes. He was practically a humanoid machine.

But at least part of his eyes were visible. At least she could gauge the state of his consciousness.

They were dulled and very unfocused, rolling up underneath his lids. Hero sighed and ran a tentative hand over the smooth metal.

"We can however," the doctor interrupted the tender moment with a spark of nervous hope in his voice, "slowly take off the armor, starting with his feet to study how it was put on. If we are successful, we may be able to figure out a way to completely get rid of it. I would like to take some blood tests first though to see what's in his system. Even though he is hurt and weak and very tired, he also seems sorta loopy."

Hero nodded, a smile dawning on her face and stepped away from the villain who had just started to whimper and mumble incoherently.

"M-mission," he wheezed. "Kill."

Hero looked up with a pointed edge to her gaze. The doctors and nurses stiffened in anticipation, sharing glances with each other.

One of the mechanical arms raised weakly, before plummeting back onto the thin mattress. Villain groaned and coughed, barely audible, before slowly turning his head to look at Hero.

"I-i tried sir," he whispered before his eyes drifted shut.

The doctors all let out a loud sigh, letting out a caged breath they were all holding. Hero nervously crept over to Villain and laid her hand on his head. Unconsciously, he leaned into it. Hero pursed her lips, surprised that he could feel her touch.

The medics began to buzz around Villain's feet, lifting them and prodding at them. Hero pulled a nearby plastic chair up and sat next to Villain, swinging her hand underneath his helmet covered head.

She watched as some heavy-duty pair of scissors and pliers were brought to the operation. They fluidly removed the thick metal casing. Hero's felt her heartbeat rise at the sight of the intricate mass of colors from all the little wires, but then it settled again when she came to the realization that it wasn't too bad.

The doctors started to untangle the wires. Most of them seemed to be powering another function in the suit with only a couple imbedded into his foot.

Even with this hindrance, the doctors were still able to expose his pale, wrinkled foot. The veins stood out like a bodybuilder's bicep, blue and thick.

"I've never taken blood samples from a foot before, but," one of the nurses chuckled as she ran a thin needle into the most strong looking vein, "I'm sure this'll work."

The blood running into the little vial was sort of thin for being blood, Hero noticed with a frown. And it went in there slowly, much slower than all the times Hero had to take blood tests for her yearly physical.

Eventually, the nurse capped the vial and put it in a little tray that a much younger lady, probably a med student, took to where Hero assumed was a lab.

"So," the doctor spoke, his experienced fingers lightly touching the wires strung through Villain's foot. "These are attached to his nerves, so the wires get very thin. This is not medically possible unless the doctor had some sort of power which enabled this."

"Can you fix it?" Hero asked softly.

"Yes, but slowly. He will have to be put under anesthesia for the procedure, but I don't know if his body is strong enough to be sedated for long periods. To fully rid of this suit, he would have to be operated on for at least fifteen hours multiple times at that," the doctor explained. "All we have to do is get a high-tech camera and snip the wires from the nerves. For all I know, because as we have seen, he can feel still, the nerves aren't damaged."

Hero nodded, prompting him to continue.

"It'll be slow and very shocking to his body. He'll been given a constant drip of mild painkillers- just to take the edge off- and will have to be intubated to be fed."

Hero felt a tad quesy to her stomach. She brought her hand to carefully cradle her torso, the other still lying languidly under Villain's unconscious head.

"If it works, do it," Hero said, nodding to the doctor. He wavered a smile before ducking out of the room, a trail of chattering nurses following him.

Hero was left alone to comfort the sleeping boy. His eyelids quivered and twitched under the blazing LED illuminating his face.

She felt somewhat guilty. All this time Supervillain's "indestructible drone" was actually a living, breathing human controlled by an android suit.

It was sickening. Especially since Hero didn't have the gumption to investigate when the seemingly nonliving machine limped away from battle, when it would sway and collapse in a bloody battlefield, when it would seem to react like a living body did when it was punched or thrown against a building.

Hero ran her thumb over the cracked paint of the helmet in small circles, deep in thought. Her fingertips followed the dents and edges, pressing against them. This poor guy suffered so much and all Hero did was aid in that suffering.

"Mm boss," Villain breathed, desperately trying to roll over to his side in his sleeping state. Hero put a hand on the busted metal of his shoulder and gently shushed him.

"Mmmnh no," he whimpered, pulling his body to himself. His eyes slited open, dancing over to Hero as an awaiting expression washed over them. "D-dont... hurt... me..."

"I won't honey," Hero whispered, smiling down at him. It was only then that Hero realized how young the semi-conscious man was. Barely twenty-two, even a tad younger than Hero herself.

Twenty-two years old, a whole life wasted away. A life feasted on rough hands, pain and experiments. Hero shuddered at the thought, brushing her fingers over the exposed skin on his forehead. Villain grunted and pushed into her hand like a cat, needing that close comfort.

He was just a kid.

Hero felt tears spiking at her eyes. She wiped them away with the cuff of her sleeve, sniffling quietly. The emotion in his glassy eyes quickly contorted into worry, then fear.

He jerked as hard as his fatigued body permitted him to do, trying his hardest to get away the possible threat.

"I tried," he screamed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I-i tried to kill... I did, please. Don't shock me." His screams rapidly ceased to muttered whimpers as his strength and energy ebbed away from him. He fell back into the gurney, eyes rolling to their whites.

Soon he passed out again, lost in the dark abyss of oblivion.

Hero looked down at the pitiful man on the bed with a sympathetic sigh before turning her face away, allowing the tears to come forth.

#villain whumpee #hero caretaker #supervillain whumper #doctor caretakers #injured villain #hospital setting #hero x villain #heros and villains #lab whump #past torture #sedation mentioned #surgery mention #body modifications #dehumanization #weaponized whumpee #thank you all for your likes and reblogs from part 1 #i hope you guys like this one as well

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fettsvette · 3 years

Text

Never Worn White (Part Three)

Cloud City, Bespin. Boba Fett is on the hunt for a casual fuck before he cashes in on Han Solo’s bounty. You’re a naïve virgin, saving yourself for an adolescent fantasy… and it just so happens that he’s in town. Upon encountering the object of your infatuation though, you didn’t expect he’d be so willing to help you out.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 11.7k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Unprotected sex and loss of virginity

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology

vaar’ika - little runt

nehutyc’ika - feisty one

sarad’ika - little flower

mesh’la - beautiful

You’d never had so many sets of eyes on you at one time until you had left the Paradise Atrium in the company of Boba Fett. The crowd had swept apart for you as if by the powers of a Jedi Knight of old, with Fett’s hand in yours, leading you out of the lounge and into the cool night air. You had been alarmed about leaving so abruptly at first - a part of you had expected to sit and chat for a while longer, get to know each other, but you supposed that prolonged discussion wasn’t really Boba Fett’s style. Once it was agreed upon that you were to spend the night together, he had simply enveloped your hand in his gloved one, and begun pulling you along towards the doors, much like a parent guiding an unruly child rather than a suitor escorting his barroom hookup.

You had balked as you approached the exit; you hadn’t settled your tab. Fett had turned and regarded you with a mute stare for a brief moment, then had wordlessly tugged you towards the bar, the Bothan bartender gazing towards you with a look of mingled pity and amusement. You didn’t think he’d really expected your irrational scheme to work out. You’d begun digging through the small bag swinging from your arm with a shaking hand, desperately searching for the credit chip that had disappeared into the recesses of it, all too aware of Boba Fett’s presence at your shoulder, breathing down your neck. He watched you struggle for a moment longer before he jostled you to the side and reached into one of the many pockets lining the flak suit underneath his armor, pulling out a haphazard pile of gold and silver Imperial credits, easily several hundred worth, the largest amount you’d ever seen in one setting. By the way Fett slammed the chips down on the counter, he knew he was vastly overpaying your dues, but you knew he wasn’t just covering your tab - he was also buying the bartender’s silence pertaining to this tryst. The Bothan wordlessly swept the money off the bar and into a cupped paw, being careful to not make too much eye contact. It was more than obvious that this kind of transaction had played out here many times before; it was better to just take the money and continue on with business as usual, no questions asked. You’d attempted to thank Fett as he’d silently led you through the shipyards towards his cruiser, but he didn’t even turn to acknowledge your words, so you dropped it. He hadn’t done it out of a display of romantic chivalry, after all - he’d only been covering his own ass, trying to make a quick getaway with you in tow. You were his prize for the night, his bounty .

So you found yourself within the confines of the Slave I , a ship the sight or sound of which would send most creatures fleeing in terror for their lives. You sat frozen on a narrow bunk in the pilot’s quarters, unsure whether you were trembling from nerves or from the cold. You hadn’t been on very many space vessels in your lifetime, let alone ones owned by galactic mercenaries, but the sterile spotlessness of the Slave had shocked you upon first entry. Based on the chipped and battle-worn exterior of the transport, you’d expected it to be dingy, the walls bearing the mark of blaster smoke residue, maybe even some old bloodstains, but instead your surroundings gave off the impression of having been scrubbed down meticulously, carefully - and fairly recently. You could tell this wasn’t the work of maintenance droids - this kind of immaculate cleanliness could only be the mark of human hands. You tried to imagine Boba Fett sitting back on his haunches on the hard durasteel floor, a sponge and bucket beside him, diligently scouring the insides of the cages that held the captives he was entrusted with transporting to their dooms. You envisioned the armor of his breastplate glistening in the artificial light, rivulets of soapy water dripping down the front of it, soaking through the thick material of the leather gloves he never took off. You’d been so kriffing wet ever since you’d arrived aboard the Slave I, anticipating what was to come. Boba Fett’s hand had felt so warm in yours as he’d led you up here to his personal quarters, and you shivered at the memory of his large palm on your ass, steadying you as he’d instructed you to climb the ladder behind the cockpit. You’d never been touched in that way before, and you’d momentarily frozen, before a rough push from below had boosted you up through the hatch in the floor.

And now here you were, sitting on Boba Fett’s bed, listening to the rhythmic release of the hot water in the adjacent shower. You hadn’t expected a bounty hunter to have such an extravagant luxury as a chemical-based bathing system onboard his craft - although you supposed that he could afford any type of vehicular modifications he wished, with the kind of exorbitant payouts he received for his work. Fett had told you - practically ordered you, in hindsight - to stay put and wait for him to get out of the ‘fresher. Despite the arousal coating your thighs beneath your dress, you couldn’t stop your knees from knocking together. You hadn’t known it was possible to be horny and petrified at the same time, but you were. You truly hadn’t expected to get this far in your fantasy - it had seemed like such a pipedream, a childish adventure you’d anticipated to end in rejection and embarrassment and heartbreak. You hadn’t expected such a man to be a willing participant in your flight of fancy. But instead you were now aboard Fett’s personal transport, waiting for him to finish washing up. Unless something were to go unspeakably wrong in a very short amount of time, you were going to lose your virginity to Boba Fett tonight. The shiver that curled up your spine as you said it to yourself in your head was both one of expectancy and timorousness.

“You’re still dressed.”

The voice was gruff, the unexpectedness of it causing you to gasp and leap to your feet. You whirled towards the source, and felt as if the breath had been forcefully knocked from your lungs as if by a sharp blow.

In all the time you’d spent researching Fett, siphoning up every piece of information on him that you could find, not many creatures had ever thought to describe what his voice sounded like. You supposed that Fett didn’t talk much, being such a singular man - in all the holovids you had seen of him, never once had he spoken, even when speech had been directed towards him. Just that stony silence answered, maybe a tilt of that mysterious worn-out visor or a quick gesture with a gloved hand, but that was it. The modulated voice that came through the Mandalorian helmet’s vocoder back in the cantina had been harsh, unforgiving, devoid of most emotion save annoyance and the venom that you expected from the galaxy’s most ruthless bounty hunter. There had still been that odd kindness to his tone when he’d seen you were upset, however, a shift that had seemed so out of character based on what you’d seen and read about the man that it had stunned your senses into complete sobriety, stilling your tears. This voice that confronted you now was very much human, but gravelly, made harsh by years of hard living and long periods of solitude. There was an inquisitiveness to it, though, and a youthfulness you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t place the accent, although you’d heard rumors that Fett’s family was from the Mandalore sector of the Outer Rim, some backwater moon called Concord Dawn, but none of the bounty hunter aficionados you’d spoken with seemed to be sure. He did wear Mandalorian armor, after all, but most assumed it had been plundered, not inherited or earned. Of course, nobody had ever asked Boba Fett himself - and lived to tell anyone, anyway.

The man standing before you was bare-chested, a thin towel wrapped around his waist. He stood in the doorway of the refresher, residual steam still collecting behind him, water beading on the muscular expanse of his pectorals. His shoulders and upper arms and abdomen were covered in tattoos, unfamiliar spiraling patterns as well as glyphs in a language you’d never seen before, and every inch of his body that you could see was riddled with scars - some obvious blaster wounds, others looking like the marks of vibroblades or crude spears, some overlapping others and completely unrecognizable as being from any particular weapon. His skin was like a canvas, a story detailing decades of fierce battles, of wins and losses. You longed to run your hands over each and every scar, hear those stories yourself. Even more so, you yearned to tangle your fingers through the thick black curls atop his head - for some reason you had always expected him to have a shaved scalp, like so many other humanoid mercenaries, and the surprising full head of hair gave Fett a strangely boyish appearance. You pegged his age at anywhere from late twenties to mid-thirties, although it was hard to tell; the scars peppering his body also extended across his facial features, a prominent one in particular slashing a ragged arc through his furrowed brow, making him look older and harder than his years. His hooded eyes were a deep brown, more black in the light, almost the color of the darkness between the stars, and his nose was broad and slightly flattened, then upturned at its tip, which would have given him a haughty air, if it weren’t for the deep scar directly across the bridge. You wondered how he came across these distinctive wounds if he really never did take off his helmet. But it was his mouth you couldn’t tear your eyes away from - the sharp line of his strong jaw left him perpetually unsmiling, but the soft pout of his lips was intoxicating to look upon. You were dying to have those lips on yours, feel them leave a trail of kisses down your neck, across the stretch of your belly towards the wet heat between your legs. Soon .

This was the infamous Boba Fett, unmasked. A mortal man, after all.

You stared dumbly at him, your heart hammering in your chest, your limbs trembling where you stood. Your face was impossibly warm, and you could feel the sweat beading on your forehead. This was too much. You were starting to think that maybe you did understand why Fett was never seen without his helmet - creatures the galaxy over would fall before his feet at every turn, more so than they already did. Whole dynasties would crumble for him.

He was easily the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen in your lifetime.

And he was to be yours tonight.

“What’s the matter with you, girl? Loth-cat got your tongue?” Fett asked as you continued to ogle him like something out of a menagerie, one eyebrow arched questionably, a hint of amusement in his voice as he stalked towards you. You backed up as he did so, your calves hitting the edge of the cot and causing you to fall onto the thin blankets. Your face burned from the display of clumsiness, but Fett acted like he hadn’t noticed. He just continued to stare with those deep dark eyes, the thoughts behind them all but unreadable.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare, it’s just… you’re beautiful. ” You stumbled over the words, and felt slightly ashamed. To describe such a hard man with that word seemed almost wrong, sacrilege. You’d heard of the Diathim, mysterious beings that supposedly dwelled on Iego’s moons; known for their uncanny beauty, creatures called them angels. You didn’t care how odd it might sound to others - you felt that if angels truly were real, one was standing before you right now.

Your declaration was met with a derisive snort and a roll of the eyes on Fett’s end.

“I’ve been called many things over the course of the years. Most of them aren’t worth repeating in the company of others. But ‘beautiful’ isn’t one I hear very often, nehutyc’ika .” His voice was even and highly controlled, for someone who was nearly naked in the presence of a stranger, although you knew from your talks with Rystáll Sant among others that this was nowhere near Fett’s first casual fling.

“What does that word mean? Nehut…? You’ve called me that twice now.” You cocked your head in confusion, trying and failing to think of anything to talk about that would distract your feverish mind from the sight in front of you. Fett’s unwavering eye contact and the way he seemed to be drinking you up was starting to make you nervous. Everything was happening so fast .

“ Nehutyc’ika. It’s Mando’a, the language of my father’s people. It means you’re a feisty one.” He answered matter-of-factly, taking several steps towards you. You sat frozen, looking up at him mutely. You were vaguely aware of how badly your hands were shaking and quickly placed them underneath your thighs to hide them from Fett’s watchful gaze, although you feared it was too late. You were dumbfounded. You still couldn’t believe you were actually here , that the man of your dreams was standing shirtless in front of you - clad in nothing but a towel - and had brought up his family , and was now calling you ‘feisty.’ Was Boba Fett actually flirting with you?

He took another step forward and dropped the towel.

Oh.

You supposed he was doing more than just flirting now.

Blinding heat instantly pooled in your cunt, and you gasped from deep in your chest. You couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been expecting this level of boldness - ‘more like sluttiness,’ the whimsical voice in the back of your head chided before you shoved it back down into the recesses of your mind - from Boba Fett. Trembling, you unconsciously scooted away from him on the bunk, your eyes glued to his waist.

He was huge .

Not that you had any personal experience to work with, but you’d watched enough holoporn on the ‘Net to know that Boba Fett was packing . He was eight inches at least, thick and veiny, already half-hard. Kark , even his balls were perfect - tight and plump, sitting there nestled in a patch of dark, wiry hair. He gauged your clearly shocked reaction smugly, looking you up and down with a barely perceptible smirk ghosting his features. He was amused by your wide eyes, the hang of your jaw, your tensed limbs.

“ Hmm . You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” There was laughter in his voice, and - oh, stars - blatant arousal. His cock had twitched as he’d said ‘virgin,’ and your pussy throbbed in reply. Part of you wanted to grab him by the wrists and pull him down on top of you, beg him to satisfy the growing ache between your legs as soon as possible, but instead you could only let out a torrent of stutters.

“W-...w-why would I lie to you about that? That’s the reason I’m here, i-isn’t it? I w-wanted you to be my first…” You answered faintly. Your tongue felt heavy, your throat tight. It felt as if every molecule of heat in your body was collecting in your cunt, and you hoped the growing damp patch in your panties wouldn’t soak through your dress, let alone into the cot.

“It wouldn't be the first time a beautiful woman has tried to lie her way into my bed.” His lascivious grin grew broader, and it struck you then just how white and straight his teeth were. You felt dizzy, and your eyelids fluttered. Taking a shuddering breath, you closed your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. ‘This is what you wanted. You’ve come so far. Don’t let your nerves turn you back now.’

“Not going to get shy on me now, are you, girly?” You opened your eyes when you felt a warm, calloused hand come down on your shoulder, and you had to stifle a surprised yelp. Boba Fett was standing directly over you, looking down on you as if he were a god watching his flock from above. His stiffening cock was level with your nose, and your mouth watered. It was so close that you felt as if you would go cross-eyed if you continued to look at it. You wondered if he expected you to take him in your hand, stroke him, pleasure him with your tongue, but Fett shoved you back by your shoulders, and you landed unceremoniously back on the pillow, shifting your eyes downwards to the foot of the bed. Fett now balanced there, one knee resting on the edge of the cot, exposing himself unabashedly to you. He observed you broodily, his lips slightly pursed, and you wondered if he was expecting you to try and make a run for it, and what he would do if you did. You had the mental image of a completely nude Boba Fett chasing you down the boarding ramp of the Slave I, blaster in hand, penis flopping as he ran, and a hysterical giggle rose to your lips, which Fett silenced with a stern shush.

“Go on, girl, lay down. Let me help you feel good...” The bounty hunter purred, climbing on the bed to fully kneel before you, reaching out and placing his large hands on either side of your hips, rucking the shimmersilk dress up to rest above your belly button. You breathed heavily through your nose, in and out, hyper-aware of the feeling of Fett’s rough palms on your skin, the warmth radiating through him coming across more like fire licking up your pelvis to your ribcage. You wondered if he could tell just how badly you were shaking under his hands, if he could feel how hot you were for him already; if he did notice, he kept it to himself - he seemed solely focused on that spot between your legs, the junction of your sex that felt almost numb with how turned on you were. It didn’t even register to you at first that you were almost naked in front of a man for the very first time, that maybe you should be embarrassed - stars, he didn’t even know your name, hadn’t even expressed a passing interest in learning it - until you heard the low, animal growl emanating from Fett’s throat, and saw just how greedily he was admiring your soaked panties.

“Already wet, are you? Good. That’ll make it easier on you.”

You groaned at his words and covered your face with sweating, trembling hands, your core tensing as you felt your underwear being pulled down around your knees, then your ankles, and finally being harshly yanked off entirely. An arm nudged your knees even further apart, and you gasped, the ship’s cool air bathing your spread pussy lips, the wetness gathered there making it feel even colder. There was a brief pause, and a hand encircled your wrist, pulling your hands away from your eyes. You blinked to see Fett looming over you, the ghost of a smile upon his lips, and he settled to lie between your legs as he made sure you were making direct eye contact with him. You could feel his hot breath on your core, and your head swam. You had Boba Fett between your legs, about to pleasure you with his mouth. It was like something out of your most secret fantasies, but this was real .

“Keep your hands away from your face, vaar’ika . I want you to watch me taste you. I don’t get to eat unspoiled fruit very often, you know.”

He buried his face between your legs without another word.

Oh, stars above.

You’d never felt anything like this before, and struggled to keep from fainting back against the pillow. His tongue was hot against your cunt, licking warm stripes up and down, lapping up the juices that had collected between your folds as if it were the most delicious nectar he’d ever tasted. Fett hummed against you and the vibrations traveled up your spine like a shock, and you twisted your fists in the blankets, biting your lip to keep from crying out already. His lips latched onto your swollen clit at last and he suckled on the engorged bud hungrily, and you finally allowed yourself to moan. Fett gave a deep rumble in return that you didn’t immediately recognize as laughter due to the fact that his face was nestled against your sex. He was laughing at your reactions to his ministrations, and your face and chest only flushed hotter. Fett’s arms came up for a moment to loop around your thighs, dragging you downwards and causing you to emit a strangled whine, before he settled your legs over his broad shoulders. The change of position - you were practically sitting on his face now - prompted another rush of arousal to flood your needy cunt. Boba Fett groaned appreciatively as his tongue probed inside of you, its tip curled, licking at the opening of your sex. You gasped deeply and arched your back, and Fett grumbled, holding you down as you began to squirm underneath him, digging your heels into his shoulder blades. He turned his mouth back to your clitoris, flickering his tongue methodically back and forth, up and down, swirling circles around the sensitive bud until you began to pant and whimper in earnest. You were so wet that you could hear him eating you out, obscene slurping sounds interspaced with pleased grunts, his nose pressed into your vulva, his hips grinding into the corner of the cot beneath him in an effort to bring himself some pleasure.

All it took to send you over the edge was an unexpected nip of his teeth to the hood of your clit, and your vision went white. You let out a choked sob, your hips bucking off the cot and your fingers threading through Fett’s tight curls, holding him in place as you rode out your orgasm on his face.

You weren’t sure how long it lasted, but the waves of your climax finally began to ebb, and you released your hold on Fett’s hair, quivering helplessly in the aftershocks of your first-ever assisted orgasm. Fett released his iron grip on your thighs and raised his head to look at you, and you couldn’t help but let out an overwhelmed squeak at what you saw.

His chin and mouth were glistening with your arousal, shiny in the light, and your breath stuttered as you watched him slowly lick his lips, his tongue circling to gather every last bit of your cum that had coated his features. It was one of the hottest things you had ever seen in your life - the Boba Fett now sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of you, wiping the rest of your cum from his mouth with the back of one hand and absent-mindedly stroking his cock with the other, observing you with an almost bored expression. His cheeks were ruddy with arousal, the rosy head of his length weeping pre-cum, his dark pupils blown. But despite everything he had just put you through with his mouth alone, he wasn’t even breathing heavily, hadn’t broken a sweat. He looked zen, if anything.

“...Can I kiss you? Please?” You asked breathlessly, your chest still heaving, leaning back on your elbows on the cot in front of him. The question took him by surprise at first, his eyebrows raising, the scars sprinkled across his features distorting with the movement. And then he laughed , a genuine laugh, oddly musical and light coming from such an imposing figure, so much so that you could help but grin in response, your cheeks hurting from just how hard you were smiling at this show of vulnerability on his part. Fett leaned forward and grabbed you by your biceps and hoisted you into his arms, bringing you to sit straddling one muscular thigh, his skin hot and firm under your pussy, and you felt yourself becoming aroused all over again at the press of his bare flesh against your center. Fett tapped your shoulder and gestured with a curt jerk of his head for you to lift your arms, and he yanked your dress above your head in one smooth movement, tossing it out of sight. You didn’t care if it got ruined, that it had cost you nearly a third of your weekly pay - all you cared about anymore was Boba Fett.

“I just made you cum and you’re asking if you can kiss me? You’re a strange one, girl. Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed a man before either.” Fett teased, cupping your chin in one hand, his face so close to yours that your foreheads were nearly touching.

He didn’t give you a chance to answer before he captured your mouth with his.

You could taste yourself on him, a musky, earthy tone, and you moaned as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, playfully darting at your own and biting at your lower lip. You had never understood when your friends had claimed to have seen fireworks when being kissed, but you could wholeheartedly say that you did now. It felt like the celebrations on Empire Day in the pit of your belly, full of bright sparks and incredible explosions of color.

Fett hefted one breast in his hand, absently flicking the nipple back and forth with his thumb and kneading the tender flesh as he lazily kissed you, mostly letting you take the reins in your experimentation. You kissed him deeply, your nose digging into his cheek as you turned your head for a different angle against his mouth. You could have kissed Boba Fett forever, your arms around his neck, your chest flush with his, your nude body pliant in his lap, his cock pressed against your thigh. You eventually came up for air, breathing hard, dropping your hands to rest your palms on his brawny chest, searching his face for any sign of what the bounty hunter might be thinking. He simply stared back at you, any and all contemplations he may have had hidden behind a deathly still visage. You thought Fett must be an incredibly adept sabacc player, with that kind of self-control over his expressions.

“So, this is where you fuck me now, right?” You breathed, and Fett narrowed his eyes, scoffing as if you’d just asked him if Ewoks could speak Basic. He placed his hands on your hips, gripping the flesh there so roughly that you involuntarily let out a hiss of discomfort.

“Oh no… you’re not nearly ready to take me, not yet. You’re still too tight. Do you want to enjoy this or not?” You’d thought you were getting somewhere; you’d thought that maybe you were actually beginning to see a softer side of Boba Fett, but the annoyance in his voice was palpable. Your face burned with shame. You knew he thought you were an idiot, blinded by lust, eager to use him as your personal fucktoy so you could tell your friends that you had lost your virginity to Boba Fett, and now he was angry with you. You were brought out of your thoughts by a slap to the meat of your ass, just sharp enough to make you yelp and refocus on Fett with widened eyes.

“ Answer me .”

You gulped and nodded your head rapidly in response, stammering despite your attempt to remain calm. “Y-yes… I want to enjoy this…”

Fett reached further around and patted your ass as if praising a beloved pet. “ Very good. Don’t question me again, and don’t go thinking you’re the one in control here. You’re only here because I took pity on you. I could just as quickly throw you off my ship, naked as the day you were born. Don’t think I haven’t done it before. Would you like that, princess , or do you want to continue with our little game?”

Fett reached between your bodies and pinched at your clit with his thumb and index finger, and you let out a little shriek of surprise, gripping his muscular shoulders. Despite his threats, the broody edge to his voice, his almost violent touches, you didn’t think you’d ever been so turned on in your life. The dangers that seemed to be around every corner concerning this encounter were exciting rather than frightening - even the image of having to make your way home in the nude, a walk of shame after having been cast out from Boba Fett’s company, felt like more of a thrill than anything else. You didn’t even care that he called you ‘princess’ in a clearly derogatory way; as he’d said himself, this was a game, and judging from the pre-cum dribbled down the side of his cock, he was just as willing to play as you were.

You raised your eyes to his, drawing your gaze away from his hand, where it was resting on your pubic mound, his thumb just barely grazing your clit. There was an almost mischievous glitter in Fett’s eyes as he waited for your reply, and the slightest pressure he was applying was killing you. In lieu of words, you simply grasped his wrist with a shaky hand and pressed his palm harder into your pussy. Fett let out a deep chuckle in response, and began rubbing your clit tortuously. Humming contentedly, you bucked your hips sloppily, attempting to work up a rhythm in time with Fett’s hand. Your pussy dragged back and forth along the hard expanse of his thigh, your arousal smearing over his skin, making for slicker traction with every push of your waist. Fett looped one strong arm around your middle, holding you steady as you rocked yourself on his leg. He continued to jerk your clit at a frantic pace, his entire hand settled over your dripping cunt, occasionally running his thumb up and down your slit to gather the juices there and spread them along your swollen bud before resuming his direct assault.

“You love riding my thigh like this, don’t you? Is this what you think about when you’re alone in bed at night, girly, with your pillow between your legs? Rutting your hot little cunt against me like a felinx in heat?” Fett goaded, and you let out a quiet moan in response, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes closed, focusing on the sensations building in your quim. He knew. You didn’t know how, but it was like he was aware of every single dirty fantasy you’d ever had about him. All you had told him is that you wanted to give yourself to him - nothing more, nothing less. Had he been contemplating what sparked your nocturnal emissions while he was showering earlier in the night? It was true, you thought of bringing yourself to climax this way often - daydreaming scenarios in which you were some faraway planet’s heroine, kidnapped for ransom by a ruthless Mandalorian bounty hunter, forced to grind against him like an animal for his pleasure, a blaster to your temple - but no reverie could ever compare to this.

The sweet, cresting wave of another orgasm had been building within you for quite some time, both at the urging of Fett’s deft fingers as well as the movements of your own undulating hips against his thigh, when he suddenly took his hand away and stilled your movements with a painful squeeze of your hip, and you cried out pathetically. You’d been so close . Fett clucked his tongue at your begging, and his hand slowly went back to its place between your legs, his fingers crawling further down than before, and you automatically tensed.

“I’m going to fuck you with my fingers now, vaar’ika . If you really want to take my cock, I need to open you up more.” Fett warned, circling his thumb over your clit and poking at your entrance with his index and middle fingers. Your breath hitched at the probing, the muscles of your groin bracing for yet another sensation you had never experienced, but you nodded desperately. You were ready for this.

Fett dragged the digits up and down your slit, back and forth, collecting your wetness, and then dipped them into you slowly, gently. You emitted a whooping gasp at the intrusion, bucking your hips against his fingers as they slipped deeper into your cunt. Fett’s fingers were blunt and thick, and you already felt stretched out deep inside - you wouldn’t call the feeling painful, but your inner muscles fluttered wildly, pushing back against this unknown invasion, and you had to concentrate on keeping your breathing even in an effort to get yourself to relax. Fett stilled his movements as he sensed your muscles contracting uncomfortably around him, and waited for your breathless nod of consent for him to resume. He began gingerly pumping in and out of you, listening for little moans and whimpers on your part to know it was alright to move faster. As his pace increased, he continued rubbing your clit with his thumb, and the unfamiliar pressure of his fingers inside you quickly gave over to a pleasurable massaging sensation that had you groaning aloud. You began to experimentally wriggle your hips against his motions, seeing what felt good, and dug your nails into Fett’s arms as the shifting of your weight back and forth helped guide his probing fingers to a spot deep inside you, one you’d never been able to reach by your own hands. Fett sensed the change in your movements against him, the stutter of your hips against his digits, the sudden gush of wetness dripping onto his palm, and knew he’d found what he was looking for. He curled his fingers up towards himself inside you, pushing in hard against the soft, spongy patch and pulled your cunt back and forth rapidly, reveling in the way you cried out and clutched at him. The sweet pressure within your groin was building rapidly, becoming more intense than anything you’d felt in the past.

“I… I think I’m going to…” You stammered weakly, your words punctuated with little whines and squeals of pleasure. You attempted to continue your warning with the words ‘to cum ,’ but you could only let out a loud moan instead, letting the bounty hunter jerk your pussy whichever way he wished. Your face burned, your ears zoning in on the loud squelching noises coming from your cunt as his fingers worked faster and faster, his arm pumping rapidly with the exertion.

Fett answered you with a teasing snarl, completely unbothered by your pleading. “ Oh? What’s that? You’re going to cum on my fingers, hmm? If this is enough to make you fall to pieces, just wait until I’ve got my cock in you, girl…”

That did it. His words, and the insistent, constant press of his fingers against that unbearably sensitive spot deep inside of you, sent you crashing over the edge. You let out a strangled scream, burying your face in the crook of Fett’s neck, scrabbling at his back with your nails as your orgasm devastatingly washed over you. Fett swore loudly as you let yourself go on his fingers, although he showed no signs of slowing, and your face burned with the realization of what was happening. You could feel the buildup of pressure gradually releasing from your cunt, could feel yourself gushing onto his hand and thigh and onto the cot beneath, but in that moment you were beyond caring - every nerve-ending in your body was in ecstasy.

It felt like hours had gone by before you finally felt him remove his fingers from within you with a soft wet noise, followed by another dribble of fluid from your core, and let out a choked sob at the sudden emptiness. Boba shifted to rise from the cot and you clumsily slipped off his lap and back onto the blankets, cringing uncomfortably at the wetness beneath you. It was once you were seated and had regained control of your breathing and heart rate that you were aware of just how drenched everything was. The cot was soaked, your ass settled in the center of a large damp patch, the inside of your thighs coated with your own juices. You turned to look at Fett, and your jaw dropped when you saw just how much of your slick was glazing his stomach, his thighs, the arm he had coaxed your orgasm from you with. And he was grinning .

“You squirted all over me, girl.” To your disbelief, Fett sounded impressed, and the self-congratulatory smirk on his face reflected it. He was curiously inspecting his dripping fingers, rubbing them together, then stuck them in his mouth like a child with a sucker, his eyes boring into you darkly. He pulled the digits free with a noisy pop after a long moment and looked down at his hand, a whispered “ So sweet …” emanating from his lips. You didn’t know whether he’d intended for you to hear him, but the object of your affection speaking in that way, about you - about your arousal - had you feeling weak. You’d never squirted before in your life, and Boba Fett had drawn it out of you within mere minutes. You wanted to repay him for the pleasure he’d given you - twice over, now.

“I… I want you in my mouth, Boba.”

He gave a start at your use of his name - it was the first time during this encounter that you had said it aloud, and you didn’t think he’d been expecting you to at all. His cock twitched openly and a bead of pre-cum leaked from the slit at his head, dribbling onto the blanket to join your own mess, and when he spoke, his voice was even rougher, lower, full of flagrant excitement. You expected him to forcefully grab you by your hair and shove your mouth onto him, fuck your skull with wanton abandon, but instead Fett regarded you silently, stroking himself with languid pumps, swirling his thumb across the tip of his cock to spread his arousal down his shaft.

“I’ll have to teach you. How to suck a man’s cock. Do you want that? Do you really want to suck my cock ?” He rose from the edge of the cot, standing before you as you crawled on your hands and knees towards him. You nodded fervently, not in the least ashamed that you were literally begging for this man’s cock; you no longer cared, you just wanted your lips around him. You’d never given a blowjob before, but you wanted to taste him like he had tasted you. Fett watched you and held himself out straight, one fist gripping the base of his thick member, as you sat yourself before him.

“Open,” Fett ordered brusquely, and you obediently followed his command, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. This seemed to amuse the bounty hunter, and he smirked, a low rumble of laughter emanating from deep within his broad chest. He jerked himself a few more times as he stood over you, then took another step and laid his heavy cock directly on your tongue. You were surprised at the taste of him - you weren’t sure what exactly you had been expecting, but he tasted of soap, and clean skin, and some sort of minty cologne you’d assumed he’d applied in the ‘fresher, with a hint of salt that intrigued you. It was a distinctly Boba taste, although you didn’t think you’d ever be able to explain what you meant to another living being. As you experimentally wrapped your lips around his girth, careful not to scrape the sensitive skin with your teeth, Fett let out a soft groan, and you felt him reach out to pat your hair. “Yes, that it’s… good girl. ”

You paused like that for a long moment, focusing on the heat of him in your mouth to distract from the fact that your jaw was already tiring a bit, then dipped your head to take more of him into your mouth, hesitantly suckling on his glans and attempting take him further down your throat before reflexively retching and pulling back. Your face burned with embarrassment as you wiped spittle from the corner of your mouth, and you looked back up at Fett hesitantly, expecting to be reprimanded for this novice’s folly. Instead, he was smirking, and you got the strong sense that he was impressed that he’d made you gag so soon.

“Go slow, girl. No need to choke yourself. ...Or is my cock too much for that pretty mouth of yours to handle? Here, I’ll show you...” Fett cooed smugly, and he reached out to take your wrist in his large hand, helping you wrap your fingers around his cock. He was throbbing under your touch, and you felt your cunt heating up all over again at the sensation, fresh wetness gathering between your thighs. Fett tapped the underside of your chin once your hand was secured around him, and you opened your mouth, taking him on your tongue of your own accord. He was so heavy, you couldn’t help but let out a groan at the weight of him, and Fett let out a hiss at the feeling your vibrations made against his length. He put one hand on the back of your head, pushing you forward at an excruciatingly slow pace, allowing you to gradually become accustomed to his presence in your mouth without further triggering your gag reflex.

“No teeth , girly… careful, careful… now suck . Gentle . Use your tongue to massage my cock… there you go, that’s it…” Fett coached as you gingerly swirled your tongue around his head, making sure to pay extra attention to the prominent vein running along the underside of him - maybe you’d never actually done this before, but you liked to think you had an idea of what to do based on all the dirty holovids you watched. You just couldn’t believe you were actually trying all of this out on Boba Fett himself. He was too girthy for you to swallow him to the hilt, so you shyly brought one hand up to rest shakily on his thick thigh, the skin still damp from your juices, and knead the flesh there, and a jolt went through your pussy as Fett emitted a purr at your ministrations. You reached your other hand out to cup his balls, heavy and hard in your hand, and the bounty hunter’s cock twitched violently in your mouth as you massaged them, almost making you gag again. He groaned under his breath every time you squeezed and rolled his sac, and you relished the feeling of his length spasming against your tongue, the salty sweet taste of his pre-cum filling your mouth. Stars, he was delicious. You wished you could see yourself, on your knees, sucking Boba Fett’s cock, and reprimanded yourself for not having the foresight to bring your holocam, strategically place it somewhere in the room to record tonight’s tryst so you could watch it over and over again.

You were just building up a rhythm - digging your nails into Fett’s thigh, occasionally tugging at his balls, and slurping greedily on his cock, when he ended it. With a growled moan, Fett grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him, his short nails scratching at your scalp in a way that sent shivers up your spine. He left with your mouth with an audible pop , a string of drool leading from your lips to his glistening glans, which only broke when you placed a chaste kiss to it, grinning up at him. You felt drunk on his cock, if it were possible to be so - he hadn’t even been inside you yet, but you already found yourself yearning for his presence in your life, for this to be more than just a one night stand, a fantasy come to life. You didn’t think you’d ever not be able to envision the gorgeous creature standing in front of you the next time you saw the faceless entity who prowled after bounties featured on the nighttime HoloNews.

“But I wanted to make you cum …” You pouted as Fett wordlessly pushed you onto your back on the bed, walking forward on his knees until he was nestled between your spread legs. He pressed his arms into the cot on either side of your head, holding himself up above you, his face hovering above yours. You could feel his hot breath on your skin and wanted to place your hand on the back of his neck, draw his mouth to yours, but you found yourself frozen in place, staring up at him wide-eyed, your hands clasped to your breasts.

“No, vaar’ika. Not yet. I want to cum with that tight little virgin pussy of yours squeezing me.” Fett crooned sweetly, and you whined loudly at his words, bucking your hips up, trying in vain for your sopping core to make contact with his dangling cock, but he pulled away, rising to sit back between your knees, his member rosy and standing at attention, a clear drop of pre-cum beading at its tip. You laid beneath him, spread out and open, and Fett pushed your thighs apart even further, positioning himself at your entrance. He began rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb, pressing in slow circles, and you mewled appreciatively.

“I’m not going to lie to you. This will hurt.” Fett warned, leaning forward slightly and skimming the head of his cock up and down your slit. With every swipe, his heavy glans would catch on your swollen clit, and you had to stop yourself from grabbing him in your hand, keeping him positioned there so you could get off from the friction alone. You were so wet that you could hear the slick sound of his hardness passing through your folds, and that alone eradicated any doubt in your mind that this was what you wanted. You needed him inside of you more than anything else. It was time. There was no turning back. You didn’t care if it would be painful. Not anymore.

“Boba, please . I’m ready for this. I’ve always been ready. I want this… I want you .” You urged him, and he nodded curtly in acknowledgement. It was then that the realization hit you - in your rush to leave your flat earlier in the night, you’d forgotten perhaps one of the most important things. Your roommate always stored contraception in your shared ‘fresher, which you’d completely bypassed in your mad rush to get to the Paradise Atrium and find Boba Fett. Now you were here, about to do the deed with the man himself, without any sort of protection, and you’d only remembered at the last possible moment.

“ Wait . I’m… I’m not on anything. Do you… ?” You began, and cringed to yourself, fully expecting Fett to rise and demand you to get out of his sight for your stupidity, cast you out into the night like he threatened to do earlier. Instead, you were met with a huff and a shake of his curly head, and he patted your inner thigh. Again, he looked smug, almost proud of himself.

“I have an implant, girl. If I didn’t, I’d have bastards the galaxy over. You came all this way with nothing of your own? Hmm. Interesting . Now just relax… ” Boba replied, and you nodded, feeling faint. Of course he had an implant, why hadn’t you considered that? You supposed you ought to look into getting one too, but your thought was interrupted by something hard and hot and blunt poking at your folds, and you cast your eyes downward to watch as Fett spread your lips with the fingers of one hand, using his other to line up his cock with your hole.

He entered you slowly, with a gentle nudge, just the tip breaching your entrance, and you involuntarily cried out despite yourself. He was so big already. The stretch was unlike anything you’d felt, it was as if your opening was going to tear, and you silently reprimanded yourself for thinking his karking fingers alone had been too thick for you. Your hips canted upwards to try and escape the discomfort, and Fett laid a massive, warm hand flat against your belly, ceasing his movements as well as your own squirming, shushing you.

“Easy, little one, easy . I’ve only just started to enter you. This is nothing . Are you absolutely sure you can handle the rest of me? You’re allowed to change your mind if you don’t want this after all. I can still turn you loose…” Fett offered, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the skin of your tummy in a way that was shockingly comforting, coming from such a harsh character. The weight of his hand on your stomach was oddly grounding, and you closed your eyes, taking several deep breaths through your nose, and nodded for him to continue.

He slid into you further and it was like a rod of flame had been inserted up your cunt. You yelped, biting back a proper scream as you involuntarily hunched away from the invading presence. Fett held your hips down, preventing you from squirming away further, and immediately stopped his movements once more. He wasn’t even fully sheathed within you yet, but the pain was unbelievable. You didn’t imagine that it could hurt this much, especially with how wet you were. He was just so huge , you couldn’t fathom how the rest of him would fit inside of you. There were already tears of frustration filling your eyes at having to stop him again so soon, and you gazed upwards at the bounty hunter, who was looking down at you with a completely unreadable expression. Your hands were gripping his forearms and you could feel just how taut the muscles there were, how much self-control it was taking him to keep from pounding into you like a wild beast despite your discomfort, and you admired him for that. You wanted him deep inside you, you wanted him to finish the job, fully claim you at last - you wished he would just push forward with one savage thrust and break you open already.

“If you keep crying out like this and trying to move away from me, vaar’ika , we’ll be stuck here all night.” Fett said simply, looking down between your bodies at where you were partially joined. You followed his gaze as well, your eyes growing wider as you took notice of his hard length sitting between your legs, halfway vanished into your quivering pussy. You felt sweat gathering on your brow, underneath your breasts, and the sight brought a fresh wave of arousal flooding through your cunt. Fett obviously felt it, as he let out a soft groan and you felt the tip of his member twitch within you, and a delicious shiver of pleasure went up your spine. That sensation alone made you want to wiggle forward yourself, despite the pain, and impale yourself on him fully. You squeezed Fett’s arms and he raised his head to look into your eyes, his gaze boring into yours. The arousal in his eyes was intoxicating.

“Boba, I… I want you to move. Just do it, even if I scream or cry or try to get away. I give you my full permission. If… if I need you to stop, really stop, I’ll tap your shoulder three times. Is… is that okay?” You asked nervously, already feeling yourself begin to shake from the anticipation of what was coming. You wanted this more than anything , and now it was actually happening. You couldn’t have imagined you would actually be here even a few mere hours ago, underneath Boba Fett in the pilot’s quarters of the Slave I , about to lose your virginity to him. You expected to wake up in your own bed any moment, the night’s events having been just an incredibly vivid dream. Boba Fett didn’t answer your request with words. His eyes shifted to the side, almost imperceptibly, as he considered your proposition, and then, silently, he brought one hand up to rest on your flushed cheek. You took a shaky inhale as he gently craned his neck to place a kiss on your sweaty forehead, then dipped lower to capture your mouth in his.

In one smooth, hard motion, Boba Fett snapped his hips upward, forward, and claimed you for his own.

Your eyes flew open and you let out a muffled scream against his mouth, your feet kicking out briefly, your hips jerking, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. It felt as if you’d been torn open from the inside, like a blade had been thrust up into you, and the stretch was immense. You couldn’t fathom how the whole of him had fit. Your vaginal canal burned terribly, and you couldn’t help but let out several loud sobs at the overwhelming sensation of being filled so deeply. Fett broke his kiss and stared down at you, still buried to the hilt inside of you, unmoving.

“ Easy there, little one . Look at me. I’m inside of you, see? You’re no longer a virgin, at last. How do you feel? Do you want me to stop?” Fett hummed softly, brushing away the tears that streamed down your face with the pad of his thumb, his hips flush with yours. You could feel the dark patch of pubic hair at his groin against your vulva, and the sensation was somehow soothing. Your cunt involuntarily clenched around his member, gradually becoming used to the feeling of him as time dragged on, and you were surprised that you could feel his hardness, the ridges of his glans pressed into your inner walls, the veins on his cock against you. The pain was receding, little by little, as Fett remained motionless and let you get used to his presence. It occurred to you that he was waiting for you to give him permission to move, and your walls fluttered.

“No, no, please don’t pull out. Oh, kriff … it hurts , but it’s getting better. You’re so big . I feel so full. But… I just can’t believe…” You gasped, struggling for words. You swore you could feel Boba Fett in your guts, were shocked that you couldn’t see a bulge in your lower belly where his cock was nestled inside of you, that’s how big he felt. Fett let out an amused chuckle, cutting off your words by pressing a blunt finger to your lips.

“Well, you’d better start believing it… you’ve got a bounty hunter inside of you. Tell me when I can move, mesh’la . I’m getting restless.” Fett replied, and it was then that you noticed the sweat beading his forehead as well, the way his speech was coming in harsh pants, how his arms were shaking with need above you. He needed to move . You could feel your swollen cunt becoming hotter and hotter, your natural lubrication helping to ease the pinching burn that had settled deep within you, and you found you wanted him to move too. Your tears had dried for the most part, although you had a feeling he’d have you weeping again soon enough. You shakily moved your hands up to cup Fett’s sharp cheekbones, his eyes locking onto yours with the movement. The words that next left your lips, barely above a whisper, were ones that you never imagined you would find yourself saying to this man, but they resulted in an amorous growl that sent a thrill through your bloodstream and straight to your pussy.

“Fuck me, Boba.”

His first few thrusts shook your entire body, and you let out a grunting squeal for each one, your breasts jiggling from the force of them, although Fett still moved slowly. It wasn’t until you wrapped your legs around his calves, pulling him in closer, and settled your palms on the tense cheeks of his ass, urging him to pump into you harder, faster, that he began to really fuck you. With every thrust, your pain turned more and more into pleasure, a white-hot ball tightening within your belly until it felt as if liquid fire was seeping through every inch of your body. If this was what being fucked was like, you never wanted it to end.

“ Stars , princess… you’re so kriffing tight . The tightest little pussy I’ve ever fucked… you’re going to make me cum soon…” Fett groaned, and you let out a keening wail in response, focused only on the feeling of his cock massaging your walls, his glans bumping that same spongy spot inside you that his fingers had seemed to find immediately, the obscene slap of his thighs colliding with yours again and again and again. You could hear your own juices sloshing against his cock’s pounding, a squelching that only became louder and wetter as your movements continued.

Neither one of you lasted very long. Combined with Boba’s slow, deep strokes into your pussy, and his fingers dancing over your clit, helping you along towards yet another climax, you found yourself hoarsely shouting his name over and over again, your nails raking red slashes down his back in pure ecstasy. Fett lifted up your hips into his hands, arching your bottom off the cot, his angle becoming impossibly deeper, and you shrieked aloud. You wondered if the durasteel walls of the Slave I were soundproof, but found that you didn’t care. You didn’t care whether the entirety of Cloud City heard Boba Fett fucking you - you wanted them to. This was happening , you had manifested this for yourself through nothing but determination, and if the whole colony heard you being claimed by the galaxy’s most feared bounty hunter, so be it.

“Cum for me, girl. That’s it, let go… cum all over my cock, like you’ve always wanted to…” Fett urged you, his own voice shaking as he frantically worked your clit with his fingers, his thrusts becoming manic and sloppy. You could tell he was getting close - you could feel his cock twitching violently inside of you, preparing to shoot his load up into you. Your own orgasm hit you unexpectedly, just one expertly angled stroke from Fett’s length, a circular grind of his hips, and your vision instantly blacked out. You felt as if a thermal detonator had gone off in your pussy, and all sound seemed to go out of the room. Your mouth was gaping open, you knew you were screaming at the top of your lungs, but all you could hear was a high-pitched static noise, you were so far gone. You didn’t even hear Fett’s answering groan as he spilled his seed inside of you moments later, the clamping of your walls around his cock proving to be too much for him to withstand. The feeling of him emptying his balls within you was unlike anything you had ever felt before, and only served to bring your peak to a new height. You could feel him pulsating, your cunt milking him for all that it was worth, his hot spunk filling you up, marking you where no one else ever had before.

The next thing you remembered was lying in Boba Fett’s arms, weeping openly into the crook of his neck. You weren’t sure if you had momentarily passed out from the pleasure, but you had no memory of him flipping you over so that you were lying atop him, draped across his broad chest, his cock still sheathed within you, a strong but pleasant ache settled deep between your thighs - a lingering effect of your lost virginity. Fett, despite all of his cultivated roughness, let you cry it out, one arm thrown lazily across your waist, his free hand cupping the back of your head. His fingers scratched at your scalp, and you could have sworn you heard him murmuring softly in a guttural tongue, possibly that Mando’a he occasionally spoke in - the idea that he may’ve been trying to comfort you in his own awkward way only made you cry harder. Your sobs finally ebbed away into sniffles and quiet hiccups after a short while, and Fett slowly rolled you off of him, his cock leaving you with a wet squelch that gave your oversensitive clit a jolt and left you feeling sore and empty. You laid on the bed and watched Boba Fett’s cum ooze out from between your legs and onto the blankets, stained pink from your breaking in, and you flushed as he rose and stood at the foot of the cot, cleaning both your arousals from his softening cock with a cloth he’d retrieved from a compartment hidden in the wall. You wished you could have kept his cum inside of you forever, in a way, although you supposed the bruises his mouth and fingers had left on your skin would serve as reminders as well. You still couldn’t believe the night events had really happened, after so long.

“Are you alright, girl? You came quite hard. I thought you were going to break my cock right off, the way you were clenching me. How do you feel, now that you’ve been properly fucked?” His tone was one of gentle teasing, and he glanced back over his shoulder at you, a smirk upon his pouty lips.

“That… that was incredible. I’m sorry, it’s just… I can’t believe I just got fucked by Boba Fett .” You replied, and hid your face in your hands, embarrassed as soon as the words had tumbled from your mouth. Fett, good-natured and relaxed after a satisfying fuck, snorted and shook his head. He sauntered past the cot on his way to the ‘fresher and patted your thigh as if to assure you that ‘ Yes, you sweet little fool, all of your wildest dreams have come true.’ He didn’t think he’d ever understand these beings who sought him out as part of their bizarre fantasies, but he didn’t care - it got him laid, and sometimes the temporary company was even enjoyable. This hopeless romantic of a virgin - well, former virgin - had been one of the better ones. As he took one last glance at you before the door slid shut, as you nodded off in his bed, Fett found himself feeling glad he hadn’t rejected your advances, as he’d originally been planning to do. It was a shame he couldn’t keep you around a while longer - you were easy to please, and so eager to learn - but there was business to be done tomorrow, and it was nothing that an innocent girl like you should be caught up in.

Not this time, anyway.

The first light of dawn was just beginning to emerge over the swirling mists of tibanna gas that enclosed Cloud City, and you were in a panic. You’d been awakened from your blissed out slumber by the incessant bleating of your comlink, buried within the confines of your purse, which lay in a heap along with your clothing on the durasteel floor of Boba Fett’s transport, the Slave I . Jumping up from the cot and wincing at the sharp sting radiating from between your legs, you’d rifled through your belongings until you’d uncovered the damn contraption. Pressing the button on the side, a scrawl of Aurebesh sprang into being, and your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. Dank farrik. Your roommate.

‘Where are you?’ The urgency of the message was clear, having been sent thrice over the past half hour. You’d be surprised if they hadn’t already raised the alarm, that the Wing Guard wasn’t already out combing the city for you. They’d begged you to be home by dawn, and by the sound of the traffic outside, it was more around the time of the typical morning commute, a full hour or so later.

You had to leave. Now .

There was no sign of Boba Fett.

You didn’t remember falling asleep after your tryst the previous night, but you had a vague memory of Fett waking you in the night and ordering you into the ‘fresher to urinate, and you’d been alone in the pilot’s quarters when the comm had begun chirping later on, fully waking you up. It didn’t look like anyone else had joined you on the cot overnight, and as you’d scrambled to scoop up your bag and don last night’s outfit - you were pretty sure your dress was inside out, but you found yourself beyond caring - and descend the ladder leading back into the cockpit area, you’d discovered where Fett had gone. He sat motionless in the pilot’s chair, fully armored and helmeted, studying a holo of what appeared to be the inner passageways of the Administrator’s Palace that was being projected from the ship’s dash, emanating a flickering, ghostly blue light in the early morning rays visible through the viewport. You stopped short across from the chair, and although Fett’s head didn’t turn even a hair, you knew he was watching you, wondering what you were doing.

“I have to go. I was supposed to be home by now and my roommate’s going to kill me.” You explained briefly, then dashed towards the ramp leading to the docking bay outside. You felt as if you had become part of a child's bedtime story, a maiden whose jewel-encrusted gown would disintegrate to rags, whose enchanted ship would transform back into a jogan fruit if she didn’t return home by the stroke of midnight. This was all over too soon. As you rushed down the platform, you wondered whether Fett would say anything or if that would be it, if he would just watch you run off into the sunrise and consider his work done. You’d made it just beyond the confines of the ship’s overhang when you heard the telltale sound of spurs from behind you, slow and methodical steps. You stumbled to a halt and turned back to face the Slave I. Boba Fett stood there motionlessly, observing you.

“Tell me, sarad’ika. Was it everything you've dreamed of?” The helmeted figure asked slyly, standing on the boarding ramp of his imposing, mottled ship, one hand resting casually on the overstuffed utility belt at his waist, the other dangling free at his side. You felt yourself flush at his question, knowing he was most likely grinning lecherously underneath his Mandalorian armor, but you still nodded, shifting your weight anxiously from one foot to the other. His gaze still penetrated your very soul from behind that black, T-shaped visor, made you feel so vulnerable.

“Yes. And more. I… I don’t know what to say, other than… thank you.” You softly replied. You wondered, foolishly, if he was expecting payment for his services. Did he consider his conquest of you to be a job of sorts? Your answer came with a sharp gesture of his hand, cutting a quick line across the morning air between the two of you.

“Then don’t say anything.” With a barely perceptible nod, Fett turned on his heel and began to make his way back into the confines of his ship. Something about watching him walk away from you made your heart hurt, although you doubted you would ever be able to explain why. You wondered whether you could make something more of this, something long-term and lasting, perhaps beyond your better judgement. You wanted to feel his mouth on yours again, and still felt his presence inside of you, the throb left behind by his considerable length filling you, and you already knew that you’d never want anyone else. You were addicted. You stepped forward, back towards the Slave I and its retreating owner, hopeful. If Rystáll Sant could do it, why couldn’t you?

“Boba, wait. ”

Fett’s form stilled, halfway up the ramp, and he turned to face you once more, the dented helmet cocked to one side, obviously intrigued as to what you had to say. You had a feeling he knew what was coming and your stomach somersaulted at the thought, but you heard the words leave your mouth anyway, heard the pining in your voice despite your best efforts to sound neutral, unattached.

“When can I see you again?”

‘ Fierfek, you stupid girl. Now he’ll think you’ve gone and fallen in love with him, just because he was your first fuck …’ Your mind swam, and you wished you could rewind time, seal your mouth shut, take back the words as soon as you had spoken them, until you saw that Fett was sauntering down the ramp towards you. You froze, every muscle in your body turning to ice, as he strode towards you, coming to a stop directly in front of you. He was close enough that you could have reached out and placed your hands on his chest, thrown your arms around his neck, but you found you didn’t have the courage.

“You can’t.” Fett answered you brusquely, emotionlessly, and you felt like he had slapped you across the face. You weren’t sure what exactly you’d been expecting when he’d approached you. The bounty hunter deftly reached out and cupped your chin between his index finger and thumb, pinching the skin in his grip and holding your gaze level with his. That visor was so dark, but you were so close you still could've sworn that you could see his face through the darkened T-shape, and that he was smiling . He released his grip and tapped the underside of your chin with his fingers, in an oddly playful manner. “Run along, little one. Go home. You don’t want to get into any more trouble now, do you?”

With that, he whirled back around, cape flapping on his shoulder, marching solemnly back into the blackness concealing the innards of the Slave I. The ramp closed behind him with an anticlimactic hiss , and Boba Fett was gone from your life, just as quickly as he had entered it.

Your ‘walk of shame’ back to your apartment felt more like a victory march, and when you walked into your living quarters, your roommate rushed towards you and demanded to know what had happened, where you had been, if you were okay. You only gave them a knowing smile. Maybe someday you’d share the story of your night with Boba Fett, but for now, you thought you’d let them try to put the pieces together on their own.

Later that evening, when Baron Calrissian announced the Imperial takeover of Cloud City and the evacuation orders were given, as you packed a bag full of necessities and boarded a transport out of the city and listened to the whispered rumors that Han Solo had been frozen in carbonite and abducted from the Administrator’s Palace by a mercenary wearing Mandalorian armor, you couldn’t help but smile.

‘Well, kriff. He’s actually done it.’ You thought smugly, grinning to yourself amidst a sea of panic. You hoped Boba Fett had been able to escape off-world with his bounty before the Wing Guard had sealed the docking bays, but you didn’t think you truly had anything to worry about. There was a reason why he was considered the best in the business.

Boba Fett had done it.

Right after he’d done you.

#boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x reader

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Faerie Circle

M Fae X GN Reader, 3,819 words

You were running from problems of your own design when fate plunged you into the capture of a Fae. But, despite this, he’s not as bad as he seems.

You fled, your feet pounding against the rocky, treacherous terrain. Behind you, you could hear angry voices. you were lucky the rocks provided a decent amount of cover. There was no way you could have kept ahead of them without their help. You scrambled over and through them like a mountain goat, huddling between them and behind them.

One of your feet landed on a particularly loose section of rocks and you skidded. Your leg twisted underneath you and you landed sideways in the dirt. Stinging scratches ran up your side. Blood leaked slowly from the scrapes.

“Fuck!” You stretched your limbs awkwardly. One of your ankles ached. Groaning, you struggled to push yourself back up. You’d definitely done something to it. The damn thing was refusing to completely support your weight. And you could hear the angry people approaching from behind you.

Frantic, you used your arms to heave yourself up and behind a large outcropping of stone. You huddled behind it. Blood still dripped from your side and you slapped your hand to it. You hoped you hadn’t smeared a trail of it along the ground.

The crowd moved closer and closer. You pressed your back to the stones, sucking in a sharp breath. Closer… closer… They were practically on top of you. There was a moment of hurried searching. You held as still as you could, trying to not breathe.

The noise of the crowd began to fade, heading away from you. You let out a slow breath of relief. They were gone. They hadn’t seen you. You were safe.

You stood up, stretching your legs out. Your ankle protested, both with a creak and with a sharp sting of pain. Stretching out your limbs, you glanced around, trying to get a picture of your surroundings.

There was moss on all sides of you, you realized. You could only just see it under the pale light of the moon. It was a circle of moss that you’d been sitting inside of. And, you realized with a slow, dawning horror, there was a smear of your blood in the middle of it.

Panic pierced through you like a spear. You scrambled free of your hiding place, ignoring the stinging pain of your ankle. Some distant part of your brain recognized that there was no way running would help. If you’d left your blood in a fairy circle, they would find you wherever you went. But it was the only thing you could think to do.

Your run was more of a desperate limp, but you started back down the way you’d come. If the villagers you’d stolen from caught you, it was better than getting taken by the Fae. Humans you could deal with. You didn’t know what you would do with a Fae.

“Goodness, in a bit of a hurry, aren’t we?” A light, amused voice carried from somewhere in front of you. You skidded to a stop, staring into darkness. You could just make out the figure of a person, standing on the trail, between the stones. “Running like the devil himself is after you! Or-” And you could hear the sharp-toothed smile in his voice, “-perhaps the Fae?”

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

He stepped forward and a shaft of moonlight illuminated his body. He was humanoid in shape, with deep brown skin and dark hair tied into a long, thin ponytail. From his forehead sprouted two thin antennae that twitched constantly in the moonlight. He had four arms that ended in hands with long, spindly fingers like insect legs. He seemed to be wearing some kind of cloak that trailed on the ground behind him.

“Don’t run,” the Fae said. He was grinning, his sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “You’ll only exhaust yourself. There’s no way you can run from me.”

It was a foolish thing to do, but as he spoke, the panic that had been pooling inside you overflowed. You turned on your heels and, ignoring the stitch in your side and the pain in your leg, you ran.

For about a foot. And then you slammed into something warm and solid.

Long, spindly fingers gripped your shoulders. You looked up into the sharp-featured face of the Fae. “Where are you going?” he said, voice light with amusement. “I did already tell you that you couldn’t run from me. His eyes were pitch black, no iris or sclera. The longer you looked up into them, the less tethered you felt to reality. Looking into them felt like falling into an endless night sky. “Leaving your blood in a Faerie circle? Why, that’s just an invitation! You were practically asking to be taken by one of us!”

You tried to pull away from him, but he kept his firm grip on your shoulders. “Now, now, none of that. I’m getting awfully tired of chasing you down.” The cloak he was wearing shifted and you realized that it wasn’t a cloak at all. It was an enormous set of butterfly wings, draped around his shoulders. They unfurled fully, a pale, lunar green with enormous purple eyespots.

“Hold on tight,” he said. “I’d hate to drop you.”

He didn’t exactly take off, because that would suggest he rose into the air. This was more like he abruptly jerked sideways and suddenly the ground underneath you was gone and you were falling through darkness. The Fae was holding onto you, all four arms holding you securely against him.

Like breaking through a cloud bank, the darkness faded, revealing a great meadow dotted with trees. Little, glimmering sprites danced around it, providing just enough light to make out the ground, even in the night.

Atop a hill was a large house, sort of like the manors you were used to stealing from. There was a great garden in front of it, illuminated by more of the little sprites.

The Fae came to a gentle landing. As soon as he touched the ground, a host of servants emerged from the house and the garden, looking at him curiously. Some of them were clearly Fae, but several others looked like completely normal humans, down to their worn faces and mussed hair.

The Fae dumped you on the ground. You rolled, stumbling awkwardly. “You,” he said, pointing to one of the servants. “Assist this one inside. You.” A sharp finger stabbed out at another servant. “Attend me.”

The servant he’d addressed first scrambled to you and helped you to your feet. The other servant nodded shakily and followed him inside.

You scrambled to your feet, pulling away from the other servant. “What the hell is going on?”

“Shh!” she said, pressing a finger to her lips. “Come on. Let’s go inside and I’ll fill you in.”

You didn’t end up going into the huge mansion. Instead, you went to a house off to one side. It was smaller, and significantly less ostentatious. While the mansion was illuminated grandly, this house was steeped in shadow.

It wasn’t as awful on the inside as you were expecting. It was small, but there was a cozy feel to it. Several servants slept together, in a large pile of cushions and blankets.

“Welcome to the servants of Luminar,” the person who’d led you in said. “I’m Cocoon.”

You stared at her. “That’s your name?”

“It’s a nickname.” She gave you a look as though you were a little slow. “Don’t give out your name to anyone. Even if you think you know them. Not a good idea. Never know what’s listening in.”

She gestured around the room at large. “You’ll be living here for a year and a day. Standard serving contract. How’d he get you?”

You blinked at her slowly, comprehension dawning. “I bled in a Faerie ring.”

She winced. “Oof. I made a really stupid contract. Anyway, your job now is to do whatever he wants. You’ll probably work in the house, cleaning. It’s what most of the human servants do. I’ll show you around tomorrow. For now, get some rest. We have to be up early in the morning.”

Obviously, you didn’t sleep well that night.

The next day was a blur of cleaning and learning the rules. Don’t tell anyone your name, don’t be insulting, don’t eat any Faerie fruits. You learned quickly to be as blank as possible, never giving any cause for insult to the Fae who showed up at the house.

Your master, Luminar, the one who had captured you, was rarely seen for the first month. You caught only glimpses of him while cleaning, or at the parties he threw every week. He was polite to all his servants, you noticed. He didn’t allow for any slacking off and he demanded good work, but he was always nicer than you were expecting. Scolding was always mild, and he never grew angry at any mistakes. He seemed fairly even-tempered, something you were rather grateful for.

The first two months went by quickly. You found yourself sinking into an easy routine. The rules had become almost engrained and you didn’t need to focus on following them as much anymore.

That was your first mistake.

It was at one of the revels that you made your second mistake. You, along with several other servants, were required to act as waiters and attendants throughout the night. It was always a difficulty to work with the Fae. They were mercurial and, if you weren’t unfailingly polite, they would take offense. The rules they used to determine courtesy were strange, and seemed to change on a whim. Mostly, you tried to remain neutral and didn’t interact with the guests unless you were requested to. Not talking seemed to help, and they mostly lost interest with someone who wouldn’t rise to their bait after a few minutes.

That didn’t mean that they ignored you entirely, though. One late night, as you were passing a group of Fae amidst a party, they drew their attention to you. “Mortal!” one of them jeered. “You poor thing! Wouldn’t you like to join the fun?”

They were holding a pale golden fruit in their hand. Faerie fruit. The sort that dulled mortal senses and increased suggestibility. Humans danced themselves to death under the effects of the fruit, or did terrible things to please their masters.

The Fae who had jeered at you abruptly pulled their hand back and threw. You lifted a hand, automatically trying to catch the fruit, but it was mushy and splattered apart the second it made contact with your hand.

The scent that came from its juice was syrup sweet and your mouth watered automatically. If you’d been even a little bit more on guard, you would have recognized the temptation and hurried away to wash it off. But you had grown complacent and, barely realizing what you were doing, you lifted a hand to your mouth and sucked some of the juice off.

You had about a second to realize your mistake before your mind fogged over. A lightness entered your head. You smiled, your eyes unfocusing until the scene in front of you was a blur of green and golden lights. Your thoughts drifted in and out, like you were dreaming.

“Come dance with us!” The sharp, grinning Fae extended a hand toward you with a laugh. You giggled back as you took their hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. Happy, content with the world. Everyone around you was so nice, so kind. They smiled and laughed with you as you danced, hands joined.

The world whirled around you, making the blurring affect even stronger. You were starting to feel dizzy, and the laughs were hurting you chest. Yet it was like being tickled. You couldn’t seem to stop. You didn’t want to stop. There was so much cheer around you. How could you stop and disappoint all your new friends?

“Little human!” one of the Fae called, and you stopped dancing to look at them. A new game, maybe? “Little human, come dance here, with me!”

You stepped forward, eager to comply. The Fae were dancing together, feet whirling over a bed of large, thick thorns. Their feet barely seemed to graze the points. They looked so beautiful, whirling and spinning, light as feathers. You stepped forward, moving to join them.

“What is going on here?” The voice was loud and thunderous, booming over the Fae. The dancing came to a stumbling stop. The looked so silly, all shocked and almost frightened. You giggled, shoulders shaking with the force of it. Distantly, you were aware that your stomach was starting to hurt.

Abruptly, you were spun around. Above you was your master, Luminar. He looked so pretty, all wreathed in light. You reached up absently, trailing your fingers along his cheek. “What have I told you about giving the mortal servants golden apples?” he snapped. He seemed angry. Why? Everything was so nice. So dreamy. “Come on. Use your legs.”

He was pulling you away. You were vaguely disappointed to be taken from the party, but you didn’t have the will to resist. You staggered inside, mostly supported by him, and allowed him to lead you up into a private room.

“Lie down.” You collapsed on the bed. The ceiling was twinkling with little lights.

“Stars!” you said, pointing eagerly at them. Luminar ignored you. He was toying with some little glass bottles in a drawer.

“Here. Drink.” He pressed something to your mouth. You obediently took a sip and choked. It was as salty as seawater and you struggled to spit it out. Still, some of it trickled down the back of your throat and even up your nose. As you coughed and spat, the fog in your head started to clear.

Abruptly, you didn’t see anything funny about the situation. Luminar was looking at you with his bright, pale green eyes, holding an empty vial. Your stomach muscles ached from laughing. The mix of salt water and Faerie fruit in your stomach churned uncomfortably.

“Better?” Luminar asked. You began to nod, then stopped.

“I- I’m going to-” Luminar lifted a bucket underneath your mouth and you retched into it.

Finally, you sagged back, gasping and groaning. Luminar lowered the bucket and looked down at you. There was something oddly kind in his gaze. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” you said quietly. “I… Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I will leave you here to sleep it off.” With that, he stood and swept out of the room, long wings tailing behind him. You sagged back onto the bed. In your mind’s eye, you could still see the gentle expression Luminar had worn on his face.

You woke, muzzy and with a throbbing headache, to the sound of someone entering the room. Luminar was standing in the doorway, holding a tray of food.

“I imagined you were hungry,” he said. “How are you feeling this morning?”

You sat up slowly. “I have a headache,” you admitted quietly. “But other than that, I’m all right.”

Luminar nodded. “Good.” He set the tray on the bed next to you. “Eat. Drink. Restore yourself.”

You had expected him to leave the room, but he merely sat on the bed next to you and watched as you chewed on a chunk of bread. You kept glancing at him as you ate. He stared absently into the middle distance, apparently unperturbed.

“Thank you,” you finally said after you had finished the breakfast. “For everything.”

He nodded his head just a little. There was silence for a few moments. You sipped slowly at the sweet juice he’d brought you. It was some kind of refined nectar, one of the few Faerie foods that humans could safely consume.

“You think I am cruel, don’t you?” The question surprised you. You looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, and there was something sad in his eyes, like he was exhausted and worn down just by living.

“Er,” you said. The Fae could be easily offended, and being honest and saying yes could induce him to fly into a rage. But lying was a serious offense as well. Luminar caught sight of your expression and his lips twitched into a small smile.

“I know you do. I don’t blame you for it. Humans think poorly of Fae. But we are constrained by different rules than you. We must abide by certain terms, fulfill balances. Humans are far freer than we are.” He looked down at you, eyes glimmering. “I never wanted to hurt any of you.”

With that, he stood and left the room, leaving you more confused and uncertain than you had ever been.

Life went back to normal after that, or as normal as if could be in the service of Luminar. He seemed to keep you away from other Fae after that, getting you to work inside whenever he had large parties. And you saw him more often. He would enter rooms you were working in and occasionally spoke to you if he saw you attending your duties. The relationship became something almost like a friendship.

After about six months in his service, you had formed what seemed to be a tentative companionship. You would speak to each other casually when you came across him, and while he still gave you orders, they felt generally less pushy. It was easy, at times, to forget that you were technically his servant.

“I didn’t want to own servants,” he said eventually. You’d started having regular conversations every day or so.

“Then how come you do?” you asked, brushing dust off a lamp. Luminar fluttered his wings, eyes glittering from the light.

“Remember what I told you about the rules that constrain Fae?” he asked. You nodded. “There are laws of balance. Your blood in the circle obliged me to respond. Knowingly or not, you gave me a part of yourself. I need to strike a bargain with that. In some aspects, allowing humans to work for me is one of the better deals to be struck. There are far worse things Fae can do to humans.”

“Just because it’s not terrible doesn’t mean it’s good,” you said. Luminar smiled, chest lifting with gentle laughter.

“I know. And I am sorry. A year and a day. Half over now, and then you will be able to leave.” He swept out of the room. You stared after him, an odd longing tightening your stomach.

In some aspects, leaving wasn’t really what you wanted. You had been a thief, running form one place to another when you were found out, and you were always found out. Working with Luminar gave you a sense of purpose. And in six months, you would be forced out.

You started researching. Long nights were spent in the library of Luminar’s enormous manor, trying to see how humans lived in the realm of Faerie. Few books told you anything of value. Humans came to Faerie when brought by Fae and were removed again once their contracts were up. When unprotected by such a contract, Faerie was dangerous for humans.

“Researching the realm?” Luminar’s deep voice sounded behind you and you whipped around. Luminar was standing over you, expression soft with curiosity. “I expected you to be in the servant’s house.”

“I wanted to do some research,” you said. “Is that all right?”

Luminar nodded. “Certainly.” He sat down next to you, waving his hands toward the light so they brightened. “What are you looking for?”

Staring into his face made your stomach flutter. The sharp, attractive planes drew your eye. You found yourself staring at his full lips, wondering how they would feel against your own.

Luminar felt the same way, because suddenly he was leaning toward you and you were leaning toward him and his lips were against yours and you were kissing. It sent tingles of excitement through your body and you brought your hands up to press your faces closer together.

Abruptly, Luminar leaned back, breaking contact. He brought a hand up to his lips. “We can’t.” His voice was hushed and trembling. He jolted to his feet, sending the chair scraping backward. “You’ll be back in the human world soon. We can’t.” He turned and hurried from the room, wings fluttering with agitation.

You stared after him for a moment, then turned back to your book. Suddenly, there was a new motivation for your studying.

Every night for weeks, you spent time in the library, reading. Luminar never came in again, but when you did encounter him in the halls, you could see the longing expression on his face. You kept dreaming about him, his mouth on yours.

There was little in the way of solutions, though. All of the contracts seemed to be bargains or deals struck. You weren’t sure what kind of deal you could make with Luminar, and you had nothing to bargain with.

Months passed. You grew more and more frantic, trying to find something, anything you could use. And then, finally, one month before your contract was up, you found something.

A contract between a Fae and a human, one that would allow a human to stay in Faerie as long as they wanted. It was exactly what you needed. But Luminar would need to agree to it.

You found him in his room. He looked startled when you came in. “I did say it wouldn’t be good for us to see each other, didn’t I?” he said. “Coming to my room is bold, but I-”

“I found something,” you said. “A contract that we can have together. One that will let me stay here.”

Luminar blinked, then looked down at the page you were indicating. “A lifemate contract?” he said. A smile quirked his lips. “Are you proposing to me?”

“It’s not necessarily a marriage contract,” you said. “It’ll allow me to stay. And we’ll be connected. I don’t want to go back. You don’t want it either. So if we use this contract, we can stay together.”

Luminar extended a hand to you. “It will bind us together,” he said. “There will always be a connection after this, even if you decide not to physically be with me. Are you all right with that?”

You nodded. “You’re a good person. It’s easy to love you. I’d be glad to be connected with you.”

Luminar smiled. “Then I extend my own hand to you, my dear one, and I allow this contract to be formed. May our hearts be as one and may this vow bind us.”

You reached out, touching his hand with yours. “I take your hand and accept the contract. Our hearts will be one and we will be bound.”

You felt the magic pull, but it paled under the feeling of Luminar leaning into you and pressing a crushing kiss to your lips.

#exophilia #Fae #Fairy #Faerie #Fairy boyfriend #fae boyfriend #monster boyfriend #Luminar #moth fae

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savior-of-humanity · 4 years

Text

OKAY here are my Thoughts(tm) about The Ancient Gods part II

ALSO: MASSIVE FUCKING SPOILER WARNING FOR THE ANCIENT GODS PART 1 + 2. BE WARNED THIS IS LONG AS FUCK. TL;DR AT BOTTOM.

In terms of the gameplay: I really liked how it played! The combat encounters weren’t downright vicious like in the first DLC, but they still go out of their way to mix things up (i.e a hallway filled with explosive barrels + blood punch pick-ups + Pinkies, or the double-Marauder encounter that you could ACCIDENTALLY FUCKING BUFF JESUS CHRIST) so it was still fun all around.

The new enemies added - the Cyber-Baron/Armored Baron, Riot Zombie/Chaingunner, Screecher Zombie, Stone Imp, and Cursed Prowler - are...okay. I like the idea of new enemy variants based off pre-existing ones but they felt either really fucking frustrating to fight (particularly the Cursed Prowler and Chaingunner) or were very “simple”, I guess. The Stone Imps, in particular, are a variant of Imp that are very resistant to damage unless you use the full-auto mod for the shotgun, in which they drop even more shotgun ammo if they’re killed by that. Other than that they do a Sonic-style spin-dash and slam into you, which can actually knock you off a ledge. Screecher Zombies are basically just mobile hazards that if you accidentally hit, will act like temporary Buff Totems. Cursed Prowler is fucking awful: basically, if it hits you with a projectile, you’ll be cursed with a debuff that keeps you from double-jumping and dashing that also drains your health over time, and you HAVE to kill it with a blood punch in order to remove the curse. Chaingunners are basically just the Shield Zombie Soldiers, but they shoot faster and have an indestructable shield. And finally, the Cyber-Baron: It’s basically a Baron of Hell, but with indestructable armor that can only be destroyed by shooting it’s mace when it flashes green, or by shooting it with plasma. After the armor is gone you have to kill it as fast as you can before the armor is regenerated, repeat until it dies.

Summoner Ghosts and Blood Maykrs also make a return, which is cool.

The Hammer is cool to say the least. I was hoping to see some glory kills with it but considering that it’s primary use is to either clear out groups of small enemies or to stun larger ones like Barons, it makes sense that they’d omit glory kills from it. On top of that, Marauders now have a mechanic (for the entire game, not just the DLC) where when you shoot them as they flash green, they’ll become stunned (though the sound effects are rather corny and cartoonish, even for the game). Using the Hammer on a stunned Marauder will GREATLY extend that stun, which allows you to just fucking shit on them.

I also really liked the grapple-Hookshot points that you had to use to progress in a level. I’m still not really used to how you’re supposed to move in the opposite direction of the point to swing yourself, but the idea is intuitive, fun, and makes me wish it was in the base game and the previous DLC.

My biggest grievances with this DLC, however, is how it handled some of it’s characters, the story, and the new lore that was implemented in the codexes.

So first off: I want to say that while I still appreciate the DLC, that’s honestly only with the gameplay. The story, much less the lore, is fucking stupid to say the least.

To TL;DR the story: It is, quite honestly, bare-bones as fuck. We continue from where we directly left off from the Ancient Gods Part 1: Davoth/The Dark Lord is being summoned into existence and into his physical form, which for some reason looks exactly like Doomguy except with sick tats, glowing red eyes, and a weird implant in his chest. Doomguy, naturally, tries to spawncamp him and shoots him with his super-shotgun, but nothing happens as “no blood can be spilled in this holy place”. Davoth leaves, telling Doomguy that he’ll be waiting for him in the city of Immora, the capitol city at the very center of Hell.

Doomguy goes to Argent D’Nur. He murder-death-kills shit, as per usual. He goes into this big castle where a hologram of Valen is waiting for him. He tells him that he atones for his sins and gives him the Hammer since Doomguy lifted the curse from his son’s soul. He goes to the Torch of Kings and lights it, marking his journey to the giant crystalline spear that impales Argent D’Nur known as the World Spear. Cue cutscene of a bunch of different Argenta people/Night Sentinel seeing the light of the Torch of Kings from all over Argent D’Nur. Internguy tells him that it’s a day’s walk still from the World Spear, and conveniently a very fucking awesome looking Argenta dragon shows up and gives him a ride to the World Spear.

Doomguy gets to a lake that separates him from the World Spear. The Father says “He is worthy” and then a bridge rises out of the water. Doomguy crosses past some big ass Sentinel ghosts/guardians and into the World Spear. Turns out the inside of the World Spear is like some giant, fucked up ship made out of crystal, with weird figures lining the wall and all that: Internguy even says “This isn’t a crystal at all, this is a ship!” This does not get expanded upon whatsoever in neither dialogue or codexes. Doomguy grabs Convenient Power Crystal and leaves.

Doomguy arrives on Earth through a portal, which is looking substantially better than since its invasion. Internguy tells him that a Convenient Ancient Portal close by is the only way to Immora. Doomguy kills shit, arrives at portal, activates it with Convenient Power Crystal, and leaves.

Doomguy arrives in front of a giant wall surrounding Immora. Davoth walks out, wearing a big ass power suit that looks like something straight out of Warhammer 40k. He’s surrounded by guards in cool red armor with cool spears that look very humanoid. He says some shit and a bunch of Hell-ships and demons and titans start showing up. But then surprise! A bunch of portals open up on Doomguy’s side like it’s fucking Infinity War/Endgame all over again and a fuckload of Sentinels start coming out, with mechs and dragons and spaceships. Valen is there. Doomguy and Valen stare at each other for like 5 seconds before Valen says “Let Hell tremble before our might!” or some shit like that. Doomguy fights, gets past the wall, fights some more inside the city. Again, the usual.

I also want to briefly point out that Immora is basically just a Maykr city but red, and that it’s apparently “Hell’s own technology.” Also, the red dudes in armor are actual enemies but the guns they have (the hell-razor from 2016) do piss-poor damage and they die if you so much as breathe on them.

Doomguy finally catches up to Davoth. Davoth monologues about how he’s going to get his revenge and that it��s inevitable, bla bla bla. Fight begins. It’s basically Marauder 2.0 but if he hits you and/or you shoot him at the wrong time he heals a fuckload of health. And also 5 different health bars. After you knock down 2 or 3 of his bars he stops the fight to monologue for some fucking reason? And then shits out a plot twist that surprise, he’s actually the real God, and that the Father betrayed/usurped his power, and that he will “unmake everything by his hand.” Fight resumes. Doomguy eventually beats him. Davoth asks him if he has anything to say before he strikes down his creator. Doomguy takes off his helmet, stabs Davoth in the heart, and says no in his stupid sexy voice. Davoth dies, his life-sphere emerges and then explodes. Doomguy suddenly becomes weak and falls over. The Father says “He created everything in his image, even you.” Doomguy passes out and wakes up to see 3 Seraphim seal him in a sarcophagus like the one from 2016. Fade to black, with the quote “May the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.” End game, roll credits.

If you hadn’t read any of the codexes while playing the DLC, the story probably makes little to no sense to you whatsoever. But honestly the codexes don’t expand upon things much and, if anything, just fucking make some aspects of the story even more stupid.

The World Spear is implied in the codex that it contains live Wraiths (“A live Wraith has not been seen in centuries, but rumors persist that some yet remain inside the World Spear itself.”), and while the figures in the World Spear could be Wraiths, absolutely nothing is said about them out of three Codexes related to the level, which honestly just makes me wonder the point of adding this stuff if you don’t even give a single sentence of why the interior of the World Spear is Like That.

The codex entries related to Earth are basically uninteresting as they’re pretty much just “humanity is rebuilding and views doomguy as a hero”. There is one about the Convenient Ancient Portal (Gate of Divum) but all it really says is that it was built and used by the Father to access Immora. Nothing about why it’s on Earth, or anything interesting like that.

However, the real bullshit comes in when we start to look at the codex entries related to Immora and Davoth.

So, Immora is the central - and oldest - city in Hell. It’s described as such: “Once a paradise at the dawn of creation, Immora now survives as a stronghold where the Dark Lord resides. Sustained now by the essence of Hell's victims, the people of Immora experience life eternal. Regular infusions of Hell energy have prevented them from transforming into the demons found outside the boundaries of the city. Ancient technology defends Immora from invaders, the high walls impenetrable to those who would bring harm to the last people of the first world.“

Yeah. So not only did Hell have high-tech technology all this time, but also the red guys in armor? Those are Immorans. Which is weird to me, because if Hell had this super advanced technology that’s also ancient, and thus around for a long time, why the hell are we only seeing it now?

Also, surprise! Turns out the Book of Seraphs is a complete fucking lie according to the very first codex entry related to Davoth! (”Our research shows that Maykr history and lore holds truths that are not consistent with passages found in the Hell Priest texts, revealing the true origins of Hell and all surrounding dimensions. This revelation would explain why Hell is the single dimension that connects to all others, and why it is the oldest in existence - the first world.”)

The real truth is that Davoth is the real Creator/God, and that Jekkad was the very first realm, not Urdak. He still sought immortality for his people, so he created the Maykrs to figure it out for him. They did, but decided it would be too dangerous to give Davoth that information, so they basically said “fuck you” and sealed Jekkad/Davoth while re-writing their own records to hide the truth. Obviously, this pissed off Davoth. So much so that he basically became super angry and emo and became the Dark Lord from all the vengeance and hatred (which also turned Jekkad into Hell.)

Another surprise! Turns out that Davoth had a hand in the creation of the fucking Doom Slayer! Because he wanted to get revenge against the Maykrs, he started to manipulate a bunch of people while he was trapped as a life sphere I guess. He started with the Khan Maykr, convincing her that there was a “chosen one” who would threaten her rule and thus making her paranoid as fuck. He then guided her into creating the Divinity Machine using a fragment of himself that had been sealed in Urdak. Then he manipulated Samur, by convincing him that “the Khan Maykr will lead us all to ruin.” He was then controlled and compelled to release a stranger from his prison (Doomguy) and empower him using the Divinity Machine.

As you can probably guess, he got his revenge since Doomguy would go on to utterly fuck Urdak/the Khan Maykr (as well as Samur), and ever since he knew that his “Beast” would come for him.

Listen. I don’t really mind the idea of Doomguy being used or even manipulated by different godly powers. Or even Davoth being the real God or whatever. But this new lore and story just feels... really sloppy and poorly executed, especially since it directly conflicts with the fucking base game. If he manipulated the Khan Maykr and wanted revenge against her, then why did he scream “NOOOOOO!” when Doomguy killed her?

And, if anything: Why the fuck does Davoth even look like Doomguy in the first place? Is it some form of mockery? Or did id just decide to fucking retcon the Doom Slayer being the same person as the Doomguy from Doom 1/2 with the Father’s line of “He created everything in his image -- even you.”

And, on top of that, the DLC just left more open questions than answers: what the fuck happened to Samur, since he isn’t even so much as mentioned beyond the codexes? Who is the Wretch, the being who had supposedly forged Doomguy’s armor back in 2016? What is the fate of Earth/Hell/Urdak/Argent D’Nur after the Slayer’s victory? What the fuck happened to the Demonic Crucible, the one from 2016? What about the ARC Carrier and the Fortress of Doom?

Finally, Valen, Internguy and the Father should’ve been far more involved in the story beyond just being either convenient voices telling you convenient stuff or (in the case of Valen) being a convenient guy to give you convenient weapon that also conveniently shows up with a giant army that doesn’t actually do anything but look cool in the skybox.

TL;DR The new lore and story of the DLC is basically garbage, and since I highly doubt id will change it I’m going to completely disregard it, write my own, and also take up Davoth as a muse because it seriously pissed me off that much.

#doom spoilers #doom eternal spoilers #the ancient gods spoilers #the ancient gods part 2 #tag part 2 #ooc #wow. um. this got long #doomguy #doom guy #doomslayer #doom slayer #the dark lord #davoth #doom eternal

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Stuck

Continued from Science.

Danny took a deep breath. Okay. He had a camera strapped to him, and his parents were probably watching him through it right now, trying to figure out how to ambush him. Yay.

He had to hand it to them, this was inspired. If Skulker were here, he'd take notes. Or maybe not. Despite Skulker's obvious personality flaws, he did have a sense of sportsmanship. Sometimes.

If he stayed here, they would find him sooner or later. He wouldn't be surprised if they put a tracker in here, too, somehow. So, he had to go someplace they couldn't, at least not right away. Then, he could figure out how to get rid of the thing.

The question was, up or down?

Down would be faster, and have less chance of getting hit, but the sewers and storm drains weren't pleasant, and Danny didn't like phasing through solid ground very much. He could never quite shake the concern that he'd get stuck.

But he also wouldn't have to deal with things like tracking missiles, like he would if he went up, above the clouds.

Down it was.

He dropped until he was level with the storm drain tunnels, and then shot sideways. Being directly below where he was last seen didn't strike him as particularly clever, even if the camera included a tracker.

Once he'd passed through enough walls to get to a secluded and reasonably clean juncture, Danny stopped. He felt around the collar again. It seemed to have fused to his suit, somehow. No, he realized, sticking fingers into the neck of his jumpsuit, it had fused to his skin through the jumpsuit, somehow.

Gross. Why did his parents build such gross things?

Okay. First, phasing.

Extending intangibility to the device worked fine, phasing it off of himself, less fine. It was the 'phase along' version of phase-proof, then.

Next on the list was body manipulation, and- nope. He made his body warp into all sorts of horrible noodly shapes, and the device just warped along with him, flowing and misting. The only part that didn't change and twist was the camera itself.

Fine. He'd cut it off, then. It would probably hurt a lot, but he could do it. He'd endured worse than the removal of the top layer of skin from his neck and a small portion of his chest.

He summoned a blade of ice to his hand, made a mirror of the same on the tunnel wall and carefully, very carefully, began to cut away at collar. It bled green, ectoplasm trickling down to his shoulder.

It repaired itself.

Brilliant. His parents had really gone all-out with this one. It was really stuck on him.

Normally, this is when he'd reach out for help, when he'd call Tucker, Sam, or Jazz, but he couldn't exactly do that when his parents could be watching and listening to his every move.

Could the camera bit heal itself, though?

Last item on the list: just smash the camera to bits.

Wait.

Actually, wasn't this sort of an opportunity, a blessing in disguise? His parents were looking for proof that he, that all ghosts, were evil. Obviously, he wasn't going to give them that, but maybe he could show them evidence of the opposite?

Maybe he could do what he had always hoped and change their minds?

Maybe.

He couldn't really do what he needed to here, though. The risk that his parents would find him, or, worse, any ghosts that he interacted with, was too great. He'd just have to hope that the camera continued to work, continued to broadcast in the Zone.

But he couldn't use the Fenton portal. If they saw him getting too close to Fentonworks... well, he somehow doubted that the results would be pretty.

That left him a few options.

There were a number of reoccurring natural portals around town. But, he didn't really want to compromise their positions, though. Ghosts used them to get around, and not just the ones who caused trouble. Besides, none of them were open right now. He have to wait 'til dawn if he wanted one of those.

There was always Vlad's portal, but, well, as much as he liked annoying Vlad, revealing to his parents that Vlad had a portal could lead to unpleasant consequences. He wasn't nearly that desperate.

Which left... one option, actually. Oh, he knew he was going to regret this in some way shape or form.

He turned to face the warehouse district and set off.

The warehouse district was bright with security lights and sparsely populated by late-night delivery-people and the odd security guard. Still, there were many shadows and, being able to turn invisible, Danny had no difficulty hiding.

Danny wondered how, and if, the camera functioned while he was invisible. Light would go through it, after all, and Danny didn't see in human colors while he was invisible. It would be good if it didn't work, if it didn't have some kind of ectoplasm detectors or sonar, but he couldn't know, so he couldn't risk it.

Which meant that he had to do this fast, before his parents showed up.

He made his way to the one completely dark building in the warehouse district: the abandoned packing plant.

Correction: the theoretically abandoned packing plant. It had specialized in cardboard containers, after all.

He phased through the walls (and how did the camera register that?) and his ghost sense went off. His eyes rapidly adjusted to the dark, and he rapped his knuckles against a wall. "Hello?" He called into the dark. "Boxy?" He paused. "I know you're here, I can feel you. You realize that, right?"

A mountain of boxes in the center of the room trembled and formed into an approximately humanoid shape, blue light streaming through the gaps. "IT IS I, THE FEARSOME BOX GHOST!"

"Wow!" said Danny. "You're really working on that entrance! Much better than last time."

"WHY HAS THE GHOST CHILD COME TO THE DOMAIN OF THE AMAZING BOX GHOST?"

"I need a favor," said Danny. "Well, a couple favors, actually."

This apparently startled the Box Ghost so much that he lost control of his boxes. His carefully constructed stack tumbled to the ground, the light fading. The Box Ghost himself flew out of the heap.

"A favor?! From me?"

"Well, yeah," said Danny. "You agreed that if I let you stay around, you wouldn't bother anybody and you'd help me with questions about ghost stuff."

"Yeeeeeees, the Box Ghost remembers," he said, tapping his fingers together. "But he did not think it would actually happen. Well, what have you come to ask the great," he raised his hands over his head and waggled his fingers, "BOX GHOST?"

"I need you to help me find a transient portal," said Danny. "My p- the Fentons put this, uh, camera-tracker thing on me, and I can't get it off." Danny made a face. "You'll probably want to lay low for a while, too, after this. Maybe relocate for a bit."

"Back to the Realms?" asked the Box Ghost, sagging.

"No, no, you can still stay, just... maybe not in this building for the next little bit. You remember the other one we checked out for you?"

"Oh, yeah, in the-"

"Don't say it!" Danny took a deep breath. "They could be listening," he said. "The hunters."

"Oh, right. The great BOX GHOST is aware of this."

"So, can you take me to a portal?"

"Yeah, that's easy. Come on," said the Box Ghost.

The portal was a bit of a tight fit, but Danny managed. Not having bones could be useful, on occasion.

He spun slowly around, orienting himself. He knew where he was. Good. Now that he was no longer stuck in Amity Park, his first order of business was to get to the Far Frozen. If anyone could help him get this off, they could.

To be continued on day 11: Doctor.

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2020

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

The Necessity of Love

So inspired by this post from @lord-diavolo-is-watching

Okay imagine this : the brothers had a hard time to adjust to the Devildom, so for their first night they all slept together in the living room and the brothers (everyone but Luci, Satan and maybe Mammon) asked if they shouldn't pray because that's what they usually do before going to sleep and Lucifer simply told them:

"Starting from today we don't pray anymore. Father has forsaken us."

Have a fic that literally no one but @ikemen-lover159 asked for :)

Summary: On their first night in the House of Lamentation, Lucifer gives it it’s namesake by lamenting on all the sins that brought them to the Devildom, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong.

Warnings: Angsty as hell because we don’t know what fluff is here, Satan being somewhat cruel, the boys in distress, questioning the problem of evil.

Words: 2722 because I couldn’t stop once I started please forgive me

I would like to note that for any religious folk reading this, I mean no offence by posing the problem of evil as a way to question God. I followed what seemed like a logical thought process for Lucifer in a time of great grief and pain for all the brothers. In no way is it meant to belittle beliefs of any nature but this fic’s intention is to show how belief might be questioned. I have tried to handle the topic sensitively and apologise if anyone feels it was handled wrong.

Since their very creation they had been taught to love. They had been taught to be patient, to be kind and to be devout. They had been taught the importance of purity, of chastity and charity. They were supposed to embody the traits that humanity would strive for in their quest for virtue, and they had worked for centuries to become all that He had intended them to be. Among the ranks of angels, there were few higher than them thanks to their devotion and adoration to Him and His cause.

The hypocrisy was stifling.

Lucifer had been created first, famed for his beauty and grace as he diligently served Him. He knew nothing other than the blind loyalty to the man who had breathed life into his lungs and raw power into his soul, not until he was taught compassion and love and everything good. He had been good. He’d been the best at being good! He had been chaste and pure and kind and ensured that his brothers were to. They shared no blood, but they were brothers none the less, created one by one and entrusted to one another to be guided down a virtuous path. They had all been good…hadn’t they?

It had been Him who had asked them to watch humanity, to give the lesser beings something to strive for as they grew into the world gifted to them. His adoration for them was clear so the Celestial Realm had followed suit. Lucifer had devoted himself whole heartedly to learning to love the strange little creatures far below, reaching up their hands as though virtue and grace was something they could snatch from the heavens. He had taught his brothers to do the same and they had spent endless stretches of time watching over the little ones when even He had seemed to grow bored of his creation. Belphegor and Lilith had taken his teachings to heart the most - Lilith perhaps a little too literally.

Lilith.

The agony her name brought was almost unbearable and his fist clenched of its own accord, nails scratching through the delicate fabric of the chair he had sat himself in by the fire. Her love for humanity had been so great it had led her to temptation. The rules were clear, to alter her lover’s lifespan was not an option but his sister was young and as it often did, youth had given way to impetuousness. Lucifer was no fool. He knew the likelihood of their love being accepted amongst the ranks of already sceptical angels, lesser and disobedient angles, was slim. He had thought he had more time to make Him and everyone else see reason, to craft an argument so well made it could be unshattered by any attempts to counter it. He had vetted the man, knew he was virtuous and good and deserving of the love of an angel. If only she hadn’t been so rash in attempting to save his life…

Lilith.

He hissed, the sting in his chest to real to subdue and file away. There was not a moments peace from the grief and the pain he and he alone had to shoulder now. Her only crime had been to love another too much. How could obliteration be the fate she deserved for following His teachings? His crime was worse, he had known it the moment he had suggested it to his brothers, but again it had come from a place of love. He had loved Lilith so deeply the desire to save her had become a maddening need. His own survival had seemingly depended on it, or so it felt like. His brothers had loved him enough to walk right behind him, standing tall as they leapt into the fray. When He had declared that they were all guilty of a grievous sin it had enraged him because…he’d never intended that. His love for his sister had driven him to a rebellion that placed his beloved brothers in just as much danger as she was in.

In the strangely still aftermath of it all he’d come to the conclusion it was his fault, lying on a cold, dirty floor as he waited for something to come and end his misery. When Lilith had began to fall he’d dived with her, his brothers continuing the fight in his stead as he plunged in a desperate attempt to save her. It was all he had ever wanted to do and things had spiralled so far beyond his control it was laughable. Only as she lay dying, his heartfelt goodbye pouring from him as he committed one last act of betrayal out of love for her, did he finally understand exactly how this would end. He had intended to take the blame, to suffer whatever punishment he must in exchange for the lives of his brothers, whose only real crime was to follow a flawed and imperfect angel like him. He still hadn’t seen it even then, the flaws in His Father so many humans were starting to see as they bickered about how best to honour Him.

He hadn’t expected to fly right into the middle of their execution.

He had returned to find them restrained but struggling, fire in their eyes and hope in their hearts. For him to return without Lilith crushed them. Beelzebub, the gentle giant beloved by every angel he had ever met, had gone limp so suddenly that those restraining him sagged to the floor under his sudden dead weight. Dazed at the loss of their sister the six of them had been entirely ready to accept punishment, to join her in returning to the nothingness they’d been created from. He knew differently, he knew she was alive and well now, and as an all-knowing Father Lucifer was sure that the powerful man before him knew it to. Watching Michael’s sword come swinging towards Mammon’s neck, the brother he had known and loved longest, had cleaved his heart in two – quite literally at that.

The bitter anger and betrayal he’d felt, the desperate need for vengeance, it swelled and burst out of him in a great shaft of light that flittered about angrily, the malevolence in it quite obvious. Once its humanoid figure had formed and the light had dimmed, the howl of rage the embodiment of his wrath let loose had shook his very bones. It had taken a lot to restrain Satan when he was first born, and Lucifer knew he had only made things worse by creating him. He honestly hadn’t meant to, but the rage had been too much. Mammon being put to death, his brother calmly taking it as though he deserved to pay for Lucifer’s crimes…it had been too much, and yet not enough. Not enough for their Father, who knew the grief was a greater punishment than death could ever be.

So, with one mighty shove He had pushed them all away.

The fall itself replayed in his head still and he doubted he would ever be granted peace from the memory. Shattering the barrier between the Celestial Realm and the human world had felt like crashing through ice, the shards cold and sharp as they sliced through his skin and the stinging wind did little to soothe the wounds. The cold had quickly become fire, Celestial grace unable to leave the Celestial Realm being dragged up and out through every pore in his body until it combusted and set ablaze the wings so many had fawned over. His brothers screams echoing in his ears, his bones popping like firecrackers as his entire form was diminished. Landing in the Devildom had quite honestly been painless compared to the rest of it all. The slap of cold, hard dirt on his back, stealing his air, was actually a welcome relief, since it meant he no longer had to Fall.

He wasn’t sure what had happened to the others or if they’d tell him their experience, given time to heal, but as his body slowly put itself back together he had been greeted by the animal that would become his familiar. The peacock had strutted regally towards him and pecked at the remaining feather and bone the impact hadn’t quite shed him of. He had stared aimlessly at the sky, letting the peacock preen him as new wings grew in. He had lay there thinking of all that had led him to this moment and reached the conclusion that something had to be flawed. So what was it? Was love flawed? Was humanity? Was it both?

It had been a few days since that moment and he still wasn’t sure of the answer. His brothers were all finally awake, Diavolo granting them power and healing their injuries like an old friend, welcoming them to the Devildom as though they were always meant to have fallen into the depths of its depravity. Their new home was lavish beyond anything they could have imagined and yet…it was too much. To spend all the millennia from the dawn of creation up until now revering the simple things, refuting greed and luxury, made it difficult to be thrust into a world where an opulent lifestyle was not only expected but required. They embodied different virtues now. Pride, greed, envy, wrath, gluttony and sloth. They had been warned of these seven deadly sins and tried their best to aid humans in avoiding them, and now…now they were them. It was all his fault.

Belphegor would happily blame humanity from now till the end of time he was sure, but their predicament to him seemed to stem from love. Lilith had loved a human, and he had loved Lilith, so he started a rebellion and their love for him meant his brothers had joined him on a one-way ride down to the Devildom. He had tried to use that same love since, praying for the forgiveness of his brothers. His Father had quite diligently ignored his pleas and though Lucifer was still undecided if it was love, humanity or both that was a flawed concept, he had reached a conclusion that was equally as harrowing as it was satisfying.

God did not love.

An all-loving Father would have offered a chance at forgiveness, wouldn’t he? An all-loving Father would not have been so cruel as to condemn them to a fate where they would have to endure their grief in a place too unfamiliar still to call home. Death would have been a mercy, so an all-loving Father would have granted them that surely? They were here because they had loved one another too much, and their Father had not loved them enough. It was decided then. Love was a flawed concept. His Father had been wrong to place such high value on such a tempting sin.

“Dammit all!” Leviathan’s howl of irritation and pain had his eyes lifting from the fire crackling in the hearth. Tears pricked at vivid orange eyes, his fingers desperately scratching at the scales that now coated various patches of skin. The digits came back bloody and Mammon’s eyes widened.

“Hey, hey! Stop it Levi, here, here let me see.” He gently forced his brother’s trembling hand away from the self-inflicted wounds. “Hang on, let me get something.” Mammon left in a hurry and Lucifer looked over each of his brothers in turn. The rooms were too lavish, and they weren’t used to sleeping so far apart from one another, so a compromise had been made and plush duvets had been bought down to the living room. Belphegor had yet to wake, his sleeping patterns completely irregular now his body was adjusting to the sloth in him. Satan was engrossed in a book about Devildom history, the only one who was seemingly keen to be down here. Asmodeus had turned his back on them all, huddled in his duvet and staring aimlessly at the bookshelf before him.

When Mammon returned with a bowl of water and a cloth, Levi couldn’t help the quiet sniffle that left him.

“Th-thanks.” He mumbled, trying desperately to keep it together. Beelzebub wasn’t even trying. Protectively wrapped around Belphegor as the latter snored softly, the grief and torment in his eyes was obvious as he watched his older brother hurting.

“The scales are really dry, maybe you should take a bath.” Mammon suggested quietly. His loud, boisterous personality was gone, replaced instead by something horribly timid. Lucifer felt another pang of guilt and anger. He had done this to them all.

“Maybe…maybe we should pray?” Asmodeus’s voice was equally as quiet, weak and uncertain. Lucifer clicked his tongue, his eyes moving back to the flames. He heard the rustle of Amso moving but couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He didn’t want to see any of them if he was honest, the brothers he’d failed. Satan’s quiet snort didn’t go unnoticed.

“Asmo-“

“We usually do before we go to sleep so what’s the harm?” Beelzebub demanded. He had had little patience for Satan since his appearance, convinced that he was the reason they had been tipped into the Devildom and stripped of any chance of re-joining his beloved sister, the final piece to the puzzle that was Beelzebub, Belphegor and Lilith.

“In case you haven’t noticed, he seems to be done listening to you.” Satan sneered.

“Like you would know, you weren’t even an angel! You don’t understand any of it!” Asmodeus protested, “Right Lucifer?” Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to answer. He had tried. He had prayed and prayed and prayed only to be ignored time and again. Their Father didn’t love them, he had abandoned them to this place. He had taught them all to love and gone back on his own word. Lucifer clenched his fist once more, the anger and grief roiling in his gut and making him feel oh so sick.

“All I’m saying is if your blessed Father was all-knowing he would have foreseen this happening, wouldn’t he? So, if he knew it was coming, and is all-loving, why wouldn’t he correct your course? Why not help you avoid this truly terrible fate?” the way he drawled each word really gave it time to sink in and the answering silence spoke volumes.

“He’s…got a point.” Mammon muttered uncomfortably.

“Of course I do, the sooner you accept it the faster you can start adjusting to life here. It might not be all bad. Did you know the Devildom has over 300 types of demon inhabit it?” Satan stated matter of factly.

“And now we do.” Beelzebub said softly. The silence that rang in his ears made Lucifer’s head spin. He pushed up from his chair, levelling each of his broken, beaten brothers with his calmest stare. They all knew better than to question the tears in his eyes or the slight waver in his voice.

"Starting from today we don't pray anymore. Father has forsaken us."

He quickly buried himself in his own bedding after that so they wouldn’t see how much it truly pained him to say it. He pretended not to hear Asmodeus cry himself to sleep. He pretended he couldn’t hear Mammon trying to calm a pained Levi begging him to take the scales away and give him his wings back. He pretended not to hear Beelzebub’s quite goodnight to Lilith, his solemn vow to look after Belphegor woven into the tender words that carried through the air. He pretended to ignore it all even though every bit of pain his brother’s oozed was soaked up by him like a sponge, adding to his own torment. He pretended not to feel Mammon’s hand on his shoulder to as he passed him to settle down to sleep to.

“Have we really been forsaken?” he asked him quietly. Lucifer swallowed thickly.

“Father has forsaken us…but we will not forsake each other.” It was all he could think to say to comfort his younger brother. He would forsake none of them. He would make them whole again as best he could. He hadn’t made a deal with Diavolo for nothing. Even if the world around them changed, even if he himself became unrecognisable to the people that once loved him, everything he would do from then on would always be in the name of family.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #the fall #angst #demon brothers

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pollyannisms · 3 years

Text

DISCORD HEADCANON DUMP

Ángela falls strictly into the Iceberg category, where promotion is off the table entirely because she is too valuable for the foundation where she is. Unless another version of her comes along, they would never find another person to do what she does with the same efficiency and fearlessness. It's like, how many forensic pathologists would be happy and willing to climb into the giant decomposing chest cavity of a potentially dangerous anomaly to get an insight on what it was that put them down? Not many besides Ángela, that's for sure!

Okay, this is more of a general headcanon than one which applies to a Ángela alone. Still, I'm of the firm opinion that any researcher/doctor/security officer/etc. Who fits the profile of a 'team-leader (i.e. has assistant workers, trains future workers as a part of an apprenticeship program, etc.) has the additional duty of monitoring the workers under them, in addition to whatever job they are expected to perform, and reporting any concerning/dissenting/anti-social/overly-cruel or generally problem behaviour to the Ethical Enforcers before it becomes a more significant issue for the foundation at large. And it's from these reports that things like mandatory psych evaluations, increased surveillance, etc., are often borne.

So, for example, let's say one of the forensic assistants under Ángela began vocally experiencing a higher degree of humanization of the individuals and anomalies they autopsy and expressing a great amount of guilt over it. Ángela would be obligated by her duty to report this to the ethics team, and they from there would schedule a psych evaluation for the individual in question, and advise Ángela to keep herself open if they need support in the mean time. From there though the ethics team and psych team would evaluate whether the employee was fit to continue their work or posed a danger to themselves, others or the foundation as a whole and consider taking steps from there.

A lot of the time when people in the foundation talk about O5 having ‘eyes’ everywhere, it’s in reference to these sorts of mandatory reporters.

Ángela is in charge of choosing her team members (aka. forensic assistants to help her move bodies around, take measurements, etc.), and I think she is VERY VERY picky about who she takes and doesn’t.

Though this is because she does a lot of the grosser, more gruesome and dangerous aspects of the job that no one else wants to do (and therefore gets pushed off onto her), and she doesn’t want to have anyone go with her, who she can’t rely on in a pinch and who can’t bear the emotional burden of her job. iii

Prompt: For researchers; What was their favorite SCP assigned to them and why? Do any stick out in their memory? Why? What did they do and what were they?

Ángela’s favourite SCP and also most heartbreaking assignment was SCP-8699 or The Living Dead. They were a humanoid anomaly that was inanimate most of the time but became animate during instances of a full moon. Which weird as it is, wasn’t their anomalous trait. It was the fact that they could not be killed by brute force, but could not regenerate themselves, actively decayed like a corpse but remained alive during full-moon periods, felt no pain and seemed to know nothing about itself other than that it existed, but seemed incapable of understanding that it should’ve been dead.

They were given to Ángela during an entirely separate SCP investigation and were undergoing an examination to create a link between said aforementioned SCP and themselves - but regained animation and sentience on the exam table. Causing Ángela’s crew to evacuate the lab and Ángela to retreat into the observation room to trigger the breach in progress alarm. Though, to Ángela’s surprise, rather than attempting to break into the observation room to try and kill her, they ripped off their EKG and hid under the exam table and seemed terrified, crying and shaking and trying to cover themselves.

Ángela, being Ángela and seeing this, turned on the speakers in the lab from the observation room and did her best to comfort the SCP, and directed them to some extra lab coats she kept in case of emergencies and talked with them, and between the jigs and the reels, managed to calm them down, explained they weren’t in trouble and that there had been a mistake, and played four games of tic-tac-toe before the security team finally got to the lab and secured 8699 and rescued Ángela.

Though on their way to move 8699, dawn broke, and they reverted to an inanimate corpse once again. Ángela, with backing from her superiors, decided warranted further observation, and thus the pattern was detected, and they were classified!

Sadly though, Ángela and her team had to classify them as Khonsu, and due to their natural decay, 8699 was fully neutralized within two years of their discovery. Much to the heartbreak of the time assigned to them, as they were lovable in their way. Like, they were this 2.3 metre tall emaciated, rotting corpse that wouldn’t look out of place in a horror movie, with the mental maturity of a child and this sunshiny disposition and an apparent inability to understand the situation they were in entirely. I mean, how can you not love a shy, gentle giant that tries to hide behind its researcher that’s half its size.

What Ángela remembers about them the most though was when she was ordered to carry out a complete autopsy of them during one of their periods on apparent inactivity, as they were functionally dead and therefore able to be conducted without the possibility of excessive pain or cruelty. Before the dissection, though, Ángela, with backing from the Ethics committee, chose to have a meeting with 8699 and told them everything she was going to have to do and stressed that they were allowed to say no to anything ‘too invasive’ and the ethics committee would make sure she wouldn’t have to do it. But they didn’t care, they just shook their head and shrugged it off, saying ‘No, it’s fine, I won’t feel it anyways and I trust you, you’ll put me back together again,’ to which Ángela was like

Something unintentionally uncovered by the 8699, though, was that Ángela seems to have anosmia because, even when 8699 was falling into goo and bones and ‘reeked to the high heavens,’ so much so that they had to give it an airtight containment chamber. Ángela was able to remain in close contact with them and even eat in their presence.

Prompt: What was the scariest or most traumatic moment that your character has had to live through and how did they respond to the trauma in that moment?

For Ángela, there are four options for this question. There was the moment she found her older brother’s dead body bloated and disfigured and unrecognizable as him if it wasn’t for the crucifix necklace he always wore, which left her, well, non-functioning. She disconnected from her peers and family, developed depression, mentally regressed in terms of maturity, and developed muteness for the better part of 3 years following. In her defense, what she saw was horrifying for a child, and she wasn’t given trauma or therapy in the aftermath to help her cope.

- there was the incident that triggered her abduction hiring by the Foundation, which left her incredibly rattled and nervous about resuming her work for months following (though, with help from available counselling and therapy, she moved past that trauma and was able to return to work)- there was the first-ever containment breach she was a part of

- where one of the patients she and her team were working on suddenly returned to life and sunk its teeth into her coworker’s throat—causing him to bleed out. She and her team members to have to leave him to it, which was the reason for her first promotion and was the incident that made it sink in that she wasn’t working for the government anymore and that the SCP Foundation was much more dangerous than she could have ever prepared for. Sometimes she still has nightmares about that assistant grasping at his neck desperately and trying to claw his way to the door to escape with them, only to be dragged back into the lab by the anomaly-infected corpse and the sound he made, oh god, the sound. Something between a wet rattle and a wheeze as he tried to cry for help despite his open wound.

And there was the lead up to 8699’s neutralization. See, before it’s death, it had requested Ángela visited them in the Foundation’s equivalent of a hospice center in Site 17, and she went. She used her vacation days and headed over, and things were going great! 8699 remembered Ángela and has perked up the moment it recognized her, and they chatted, about her team, the non-classified information about the site, how the flowers looked. The birds were coming home for spring, and things seemed, well, great, despite the ever-present vibe of forthcoming death.

Then something happened- she couldn’t tell you what, but something clicked in 8699, like the gravity of the situation finally dawned on them, and they asked her to get closer. Given their history of non-violence and friendliness, was obliged by Ángela, and they spilled everything they knew about themselves and how they came to be what they were, which took Ángela by surprise and left her shocked. Never before had they lied. They were forthright, almost childishly so, so it seemed so strange. Then they said they had to give her something and began hacking and coughing violently. They seized and sputtered and Ángela, being a smart cookie, tried backing up.

At this point, she was terrified. 8699 wasn’t acting like themselves. They didn’t seem like themselves, they were more erratic, agitated, and she didn’t know if they were going to try and attack her or not. But 8699, despite retching like it was trying to heave it’s organs through its mouth, grabbed her wrist and held her with a strength she couldn’t get out of. At that moment, her entire life flashed before her eyes. It was like every mistake she had ever made fit into one jigsaw puzzle, and she understood that she was going to die here with this SCP she underestimated. But, instead of attacking her, 8699 just produced this group of 6 polished gems and shoved them into her hand before letting go, and Ángie just fell to the ground.

She was in such a state of shock that it wasn’t until the security team put her into a quarantine that she understood what the fuck had even happened. Shortly after that, this apparent attack 8699 entered inactivity for the final time and never returned to an animated state.

Prompt: What is your character’s opinion on the armed guards buzzing around the facility? Are they intimidated by them? Do they enjoy them? Know them by name? Or do they pity them?

Regarding the guards, Ángela has divided emotions. On the one hand, she fears their guns but pities them as people. They’re often so young and unequipped to deal with these situations, promised this exciting, lucrative career, only to be treated as d-class with guns.

She, in equal measures, wants to hug them and tell them to run for the hills and mutter under their breath about their foolishness. But this is more so directed at what she sees in them that reminds her of her. In practice, she’s kind and a bit maternal to many of them - popping her head into the guard breakroom at the beginning of her shifts to say hi, before scampering off to do her thing and always remembering their names and birthdays.

EXCEPT in the case of the guards assigned to her. Those guys, good lord, she hates those guys. They always respond to her breach in progress alarms like five minutes late, they make scathing comments and insults, they think she can’t hear when she works late, take smoke breaks every ten minutes, even though she knows neither smoke. She loathes them, but she would never give them the satisfaction of knowing that, no, she chooses to kill them with kindness as ineffective as that is!

Prompt: What’re your character’s opinions on anomalies? Most notably sentient, however can apply to all. Broad, but here’s something’s to detail: - Are they evil? Are they “out to get us”? - Should they be contained, or let free, or neutralised? Where’s the line between “possible staff”, “must be contained”, and “must be neutralised”? - Should they have the same rights as standard humans? - What’re their opinions on free-roaming passive SCPs, or anomalous personnel? - Where did they come from? Was it a “someone” or “something” that created them all? Do they simply just exist? - Do they believe any SCP-001 proposals? If they do, which? If they don’t, why not?

-Ángela subscribes to the Gears school of thought regarding anomalies, their nature and their inherent maliciousness. In that, she doesn’t believe they’re a part of some ‘conspiracy’ against humanity, some pawn in an unfathomable being’s game of chess, etc. Ángela is of the opinion that they simply are. In the same way, animals simply are. They exist because they exist, and their nature is what it is.

She doesn’t believe that anomalies can choose to be the way they are and feels that expecting them to be different and conform to a human morality, behaviour, or culture is a waste of time applying human morality, behaviour, and culture to them.

- Ángela feels they (the anomalies) should be contained for both the safety of humanity AND the anomaly themselves in equal measure. See, the world is harsh, and humanity can be cruel, and while many anomalies can defend themselves against this fact of life, or at least blend in well enough with civilization to go unnoticed. Many can’t and need the protection, stability, steady supply of sustenance, etc. The facilities provide them.

Regarding the lines of neutralization, containment and staff treatment- it’s hard to say generally, as Ángie feels it should be handled on a case by case basis, which factors in all perspectives about the situation. From risk vs reward, the financial aspect, the human cost, the opinions and desires of the anomaly in question and whether or not it would cause undue suffering in the anomaly.

By and large, though, she thinks a lot more sentient, low-security risk anomalies (i.e. 073) should be given the option to seek a profession within the foundation and be allowed to strive for a semi-normal life with privileges such as forming relationships, having friendships, hanging out, taking sick/lazy days, etc. Because, while they are objects, they’re also people - and their anomaly shouldn’t invalidate their personhood. At least, not as far as she’s concerned.

- This is another case-by-case type of question. For humanoid and or sentient SCPs that have proven themselves to be the most baseline, minimal threat in Foundation Security and Staff safety - then yes. She feels they should be given civil liberties and human rights like any other person in the foundation. For anything beyond that, though? Hard pass. Though they should still be acknowledged as people, they should not be handed rights and liberties - ESPECIALLY In the case of entities that have proven themselves to be manipulative, repeat breachers, violent, etc. It’s playing with fire and, while certainly morally questionable, is a necessary evil.

- Ángela honestly doesn’t care that much. In some cases, it can take her back a bit (like coming into contact with a humanoid pigeon that is at least a head taller than her), but she’ll get used to it. This all being said, though, there are some free-range SCP’s Ángela can’t help but feel nervous in the presence of. She tries to bite back the feeling and deny its existence, but it does exist. Have faith that it does.

- In short, yes. To elaborate, though, Ángela believes every anomaly is made by something. Though whether that thing is another entity, nature itself, the universe, a paradox, rip in space-time, etc. Is all a matter of debate and a case by case basis.

- Ángela has an SCP-001 proposal of her own, and I’ll leave it at that! Haha

#headcanon tbt #~lore~

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captainkurosolaire · 4 years

Text

Beholder Meet Tranquility

Many locks and keys all remained on the Captain and his soul and spirit was restless, never unable to be revealed. The only reason the specification of this encounter was because of how much compassion was burning on the Captain’s desire and need to resolve his viewed and valued frienemy’s turmoil. Despite everything said previously in this one circumstance his claims about every pirate had been debunked here. His philosophy and realism all his books. They were dribble. This was the Captain’s omen of Heart of Evolution it was slowly dawning with transcending past the events of a cruelest Horizon. Every act of creation that surrounded and swarmed peacefully around the maddened mage felt strangely compassionate. It felt like they were soothing and quelling him of all things. When just a second ago that was required for him. “I made you a promise. I keep those… It’s what they would’ve wanted.“ A soft step came inbound to the fortified Lord before he muttered, sensational nervousness stuck in his throat, “Get..away...” This noble was forced into labor. Turned into artificial believed perfection and the philosophy to be Elite. Misperforming wasn’t an option. Losing wasn’t an excuse. The pressure of his race even was a factor in his growing. In a place dominated by a majority and forever viewed smaller and lesser by even more snooty and uppity. He felt no choice but to chose ignorance and thirst for power which welled from schools of knowledge even if it meant sacrificial portions to acquire it. In hopes it’d make him stand out and attain fame for his noble’s house. He was haunted with the philosophy of losing, fearful of it. And that made him forever hate even the mere notion of such a humanized and organic thing in general. It didn’t matter how large his mind was or how fast it processed. It wasn’t opened enough to accept. There was something truly pathetic and pitiful hiding behind such needless struggles, alone in solitude. Forever casting in the dark and only living on applying his value above the will of others. How could he be told or shown to find himself? When he didn’t know where to look. All the places he had once were sealed away and sold for the promise of power. He made a deal with a Devil that he freed and unleashed that these two opponents had dealt with the threat together believing it’d atone him. Now wasn’t that a fantasy but Captain just here had shown him the final answer to all this conflict in this overplayed war. “You never had the pleasure of knowing a defeat in battle. To be outclassed and be thrown off your perch, every-time someone came close you squashed them or you threw them into a situation where they wouldn’t even humor you. Though you were pleading for this. An equal who took you to the limits that you put onto yourself but as I’ve stated… We were for whatever reason contested to forever repeat our highs and lows and exchange in those. The shields, barriers, they showed your fondness of security so reliant on it. We’ve both always known it. Though I’m going to break you. I’m going to defeat you in one blow and when you lose here... The only fight for you remaining is within your veins. Shiro the reason I fought...” A fierce brightness that undertook this man roared his eye’s open and mouth for a shout. ”It was all for you.” Shiro attempted to recoil but his foot was entrapped by a root that began curling onto him. How could anything grow here... His entire mind and those words they came with such passion and an empathy, ears trying to flee by lowering and hunkering to try muffling out those words he felt during each strike and wound that was screaming at him it was so gut-wrenching it warmed even the coldest layers of Shiro’s spirit. This was the eye-opener aforementioned. Panic and sporadic action set in as Shiro lobbed together in his last ditch effort of infested consumption and to preserve his safe-space to do one more ultimatum attack everything channeled into one atomic cluster. His eyes looked up to notice the Seeker peacefully standing in the same position unmoved. The Dark Sun raised his hand into a finger-gun and cocked it before playfully pulling a trigger with his thumb latching down. “Bang.” This instantly made the cerebellum think it’d be a projectile launched at him or some sort of focused and concentrated aetherial attack the punishment for the over-thinkers. Kuro erupted into a fleeting chortle before falling back in a collapse succumbing to his injuries. Before even the confusion set in. The questionable ‘flighters’ like strand insects were his final attack all along. As they rushed into him they looked too docile and passive but when they entered and collected together they disappeared into the Keepers system entirely blowing up and illuminating anything foul ever showing signs of him branded by anything Voidal their puppet slave no more. It was an exorcised electrifying experience from the inside but none of it harmed that which wasn’t an unnatural organic or harmful energy.

A single purging swarm pried out from Shiro’s back as they were floated and engorged from the feast of corruption as their dazzling lights began fading from existence. Shiro’s entire body convulsed and shook while he stayed standing as there was some sort of dignity purposefully written in the technique to give even his rival that. Another compassionate mercy. After a moment in an aching slouch. His creaking body readjusted and his white pupils from the stasis returned to their brilliant aquamarines. He examined himself and identified what event transpired. He still was the one remaining in the winning position as there was no sign of alertness or awaking from the mangled heathen. A low kick to Kuro’s knee even to check if he had any reaction went unavailing. Only the tiniest string of strand fought on. He had all the options but no matter how he felt all them weren’t viable. If he struck a downed opponent he lost from words proven earlier. If he left him here he lost especially if he passed away into this absence of silence. Cause it didn’t change the fact any win he had ever done was often in-front of an audience. There was no delight in anything victorious here. He saw the chivalrous of nobility once again and was exhilarated with this sensation. <I lost.> <I lost.> <I lost...> This was losing in an unwinnable means. To be wrong about everything. To live believing in lies to the point you thought they were guaranteed facts. Nothing you couldn’t be stumped on or you couldn’t calculate or solve. That, yes, humanity isn’t perfect and it’s flawed by so many corners... but by every trinity is the boundless potential to at-least redefine what humanity means to one’s self a feeling of endless venture of a Fantasy that had no Final. It was proven by this scamp. A scoundrel had lost more times than count and had so many prisons on himself but still he was more free than anyone he had ever met before in any of those scrolls that collected dust in some library shelve. Greatness was subjective and had an equal color in every form and hadn’t any lines of disparity or discoloration from preventing anyone from attaining it. Shiro glossed over the battlefield before looking to the almost forgotten relic in fitting tune, he fought detestably during this for this lousy excuse of a material. A tinge of lunacy crossed him as it surely was still potently valuable but not to him, not anymore. As he’d wrapped the downed Seekers arms around the object in a nested cradle. Accepting his defeat and giving the spoil to the victor. “Thank you.” The Keeper scanned before getting up. He’d open up a portal directly in the outline of the carcass of the Captain that’d see him land right back onto the main decks of his ship. The cost of the Captain’s revelation brought to life and light many things even if he would be under the dark for the coming time in recovery. Judas returning up the gangplank would see a humanoid and bloody mess and banged up Captain plummet right between his soles right to the wood and leave a crater. “What the fuck, Captain?” “I told you to return in one piece not a blob of many! Ahoy, you there? Are you awake or alive!?” All the ambience faded as the tiny break in the sky sealed back up. Shiro on the other side put still a hint of mischievous grin on himself but one that was rare with dimples he finally understood it and now honestly saw what it meant to own a friend. Someone willingly prepared to keep their promises for your sake even if it’s by straightening you with a stern thrash it felt invigorating to be lessened that he wasn’t alone and now could thrive to figure out how to also begin a lazarus of himself like the Captain had granted and model shown it can be achieved since the many losses at the hands of the white suit. He knew exactly how to finish retaining and obtain himself the path of travel was paved in goblet lights. With it all said and done Shiro closed his lids and allowed the exhaustion to plummet and successfully fall in matching with his failure face-first. Accepting earnestly they were Forever Destined but perhaps they were supposed to be more than just advisories and rivals throughout their soul spans. They could be further on the same track and page as opposites and still yet fight together in the ground of their prides with it helping another keep lines of peace and allow them to further explore the limits of their boundless labyrinths of greatness residing in all humane hearts now they most importantly seen by their own-selves. Imperfections are the truth in obtaining perfection.

(Previous) - /References/ - ♫ ‘The Pull of the Tides’ ♫ - (Next Page)

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

That last bthb piece you wrote was just *chef's kiss* perfection, magnifique, I want more!!!

Thank you for the ask, I am so glad you liked it!

One Month Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: jealousy, forced sedation mention, fear of being drugged, pills (tylenol), low-grade fever, angry character, being kicked out, wound imagery, broken bones, infection

Hero paced as he waited for Supervillain to wake up again. He was mad, angry, even to the point of ferocity. That sick, slimey bastard had been captivating his girlfriend's attention for days. Not that he consciously did it, and that was the reason Hero inwardly chastised himself for those inappropriate feelings. It wasn't Supervillain's fault, but someone had to take the blame.

So he waited impatiently for the supervillain's eyes to open, so he would be conscious of the way he was changing Civilian. Not that they were major changes, or changes in appearance or personality- she was still breathtakingly gorgeous and so full of love and compassion, deeply imbedded in that grouchy attitude. In all honesty the only way she so-called "changed" was because her undivided attention was completely and utterly focused on one being the house that was not Hero.

Was he selfish? Absolutely. Was it wrong? Was it wrong to feel this way towards someone who saved the girl he cared so much about? Definitely, but it couldn't be stopped. Anger and rage were settled, and so now it was time for revenge.

Supervillain blinked open his eyes in the middle of one of Hero's passes in front of his bed. The hero bounded over, pressed his fist into the wall, and hovered over Supervillain's awakening figure.

Slowly, the sleep-filled eyes cleared and became more aware of their surroundings as the grogginess melted away. They looked around, green irises taking in every feature of the bedroom as if they had never viewed such a place before- which they had, each and every time Supervillain pushed through unconsciousness. But of course, he never remembered, for these brief moments of loopy consciousness didn't have absorbent qualities.

Soon, those same foresty eyes met Hero's face. He smiled, imagining the fear that Supervillain was feeling. Though, it wasn't for certain, the subtle clenches of his jaw signalized those emotions.

"How are you feeling bud?" Hero asked, assuming a kind tone. Supervillain gave a wobbly smile as he gaze fell downcast. Hero's heart, the last bits of sympathy for the man, dropped.

Supervillain obviously was in pain and the fact that he was laying on his backside probably did not help.

Hero picked Supervillain up, flipped him over, and dropped him roughly on the bed. Supervillain bounced one, coughing and groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Hero's arrogant smirk faded for a moment before upturning again. He traced his fingers over the festering wound and dug his fingers in.

Supervillain screamed, but Hero was quickly able to cover his mouth with his hand. He tried to ignore Supervillain's teeth and tongue as they desperately tried to remove the humanoid gag.

"This is for turning my girlfriend into your personal maid," Hero growled like he was the villain in the story, not Supervillain. Oh was this so wrong, but the unreleased rage overcame those thoughts of humane empathy.

Supervillain whimpered even louder as Hero's fingers met with the cracked bones. He kicked out with his legs, arms punching into the mattress.

"Yeah, how you like that huh?" Hero taunted, grabbing Supervillain's ear and pulling it down. Supervillain's whole head went with it and a loud crack echoed throughout the room. Supervillain quit writhing for a moment, stunned slightly.

Hero didn't care. He just kept on torturing Supervillain until a horrified voice interrupted him.

"What are you doing?!"

Hero spun around, meeting the gaze of his mortified girlfriend.

"What are you doing?!" She exclaimed again, crouching down to look in Supervillain's dull eyes. They were without any emotion as they blankly stared at Civilian.

Hero felt that anger in his chest, but it was nullified by the horrific dawning of his deeds. He kicked a man when he was already down.

Never do that. That was the first rule in the Hero's Code, even before not engaging in any villainous parties or organizations unless otherwise stated by the Agency.

He broke the code.

But didn't he before? Taking in Supervillain?

Civilian stood up abruptly, grabbing the collar of Hero's shirt and pushing him back, fire in her eyes.

"Why would you do that?" She snarled, pushing him out the door and into the hallway. Hero was practically rendered helpless by shock and the reality of his wrongdoings.

"You-you," Hero tried to defend himself in the most futile manner. "He took you away from me!"

But still, his defenses were weak.

"How?" Civilian asked, thrusting both hands against Hero's chest. "How in the world did he take me away from you? He hasn't spoken a word to me! Or even actually looked at me."

"You have been coddling him for days," Hero replied, rushed.

Civilian gaped, throwing her hands in the air. "Okay Wicked Witch of the West-"

"Hey!"

Civilian smirked. "He saved my life and now I am trying to save his. I am sorry I haven't given you your required twenty-four hours of hugs and kisses."

Hero was silent, but a sudden pull on his shirt ended the split moment of awkward silence.

"What are you doing?" He asked, digging his heals into the ground, but Civilian grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the frontdoor.

"This is my house and I can't clearly trust you with my patient. Get." She pushed Hero out the door and slammed it in his face.

Hero slid down the door, hand trailing down the smooth material. Tears spiked at his eyes as he landed on the doorstep in a sobbing heap.

《~~》

Civilian walked over to the bed and checked on the wound. It was bleeding- just a small trickle of crimson liquid. He was unconscious again, head pressed into the downy pillow.

She refrained from rubbing his head like she would do for her boyfriend. Hero's actions were unjustifiable and utterly cruel, but that did not mean that she would betray him.

But still, tender loving care was the only way for him to actually heal.

She grabbed some numbing ointment and rubbed it around the reddened, tender skin surrounding the wound. Then she lathered the interior, avoiding the exposed ribs, and placed an icebag around the whole thing.

Supervillain didn't wake, his face remaimed placid and relaxed as he slept. Civilian with hands of professional talent, gently opened his mouth and placed a thermometer under his tongue. It beeped, reading a prime number of 101.9. It wasn't too bad, but likely wasn't fun either.

"Wake up," Civilian jostled Supervillain's shoulder until his green eyes broke open lethargically. He looked around, squinting, until they fell on Civilian's face.

"Get away," he growled, hugging himself protectively. His teeth bared, jaw clenched as he angrily stared Civilian down. She looked away, sighing.

"Listen," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you. Do you even recognize me?"

Supervillain observed Civilian for a while before nodded slowly. "You're Civilian," he mumbled.

"Mhm," Civilian hummed as she put a couple pills in his hands. He looked at them skeptically before throwing them half-way across the room.

Civilian frowned, looking at the discarded, white tablets. "You need those," she said.

"You're going to drug me," the supervillain accused, fear radiant in his gaze.

"It's tylenol," Civilian sighed, giving him a couple more. He stared at them, calculating, before shoving them into his mouth- not even bothering with water.

"Just don't hurt me when I'm out again, please," he begged before closing his eyes, asleep.

Civilian smiled. The pills truly were Tylenol, but he was just so exhausted and tired that he gave up. Poor guy.

Tentatively, she pulled the covers over his bare shoulders and went to the kitchen to make some soup.

#supervillain whumpee #civilian caretaker #injured supervillain #hero whumper #heros and villains #jealous hero #supervillain x civilian #hero x civilian #angsty romance #between civilian and hero that is

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jarienn972 · 4 years

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La Sirena - Chapter Two

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020

Chapter Two of my @cssns is now here! I used Chapter One to set up each character’s POV of how they were brought together so this chapter will officially focus on their actual introduction as shipwreck survivor Lt. Killian Jones regains consciousness, discovering that he’s traded imprisonment on a pirate ship for a deserted paradise with a beautiful woman as his sole companion.

I have to thank all of the admins and creators of this fun event that allows all of us to stretch our creativity and I especially want to extend thanks for @kmomof4 for her wonderful beta and cheerleading assistance and to @courtorderedcake for the incredible artwork she created for this story!

This story can also be found on ff.net and AO3. Tumblr Chapter One

Chapter Two - Encountering an Angel

Killian woke with a jolt, body arching upright until his throbbing head protested. He sucked in a deep breath as he settled back to the ground, clutching at the sharp pains crisscrossing his rib cage. He felt as though he'd breathed in pure fire. Had he passed through purgatory straight to the flame and brimstone of hell?

No, no - he wasn't dead. Was he?

Bits and pieces of memory flashed within his mind. A map… That cursed island… Pirates… Escaping an abandoned, sinking ship… Clinging desperately to a makeshift raft of wooden planks until he'd slipped off into the depths. And then a cascade of pure gold beckoning him to paradise… or something like that.

But would the hereafter be this painful?

Pull yourself together, Jones. Use your wits.

He was still near the sea. The gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the squawk of seagulls sounded nearby. A wafting of crisp, salty air filled his nostrils as did the earthy scents of sand and rock. There was a solid surface beneath him. He'd made his way to land somehow, but where?

But when he dared open his eyes, even the diffused sunlight filtering through the canopy of palm fronds swaying overhead assaulted his vision. Squinting and shading his gaze with his outstretched hand, he allowed his pupils a few moments to adjust before rolling himself onto his right side and propping on an elbow to survey his surroundings. He spied the shoreline from where he lay yet he was a fair distance from the water's edge, sheltered amongst a grove of date palms, cycads and a few gnarled low trees that had branches laden with what appeared to be olives. A craggy outcrop of rocks was a short distance away and the stone barrier seemed to extend all the way out towards the sea.

He couldn't remember stumbling or even crawling this far from the shore. He barely recalled reaching the beach. He'd been so weak that he couldn't possibly have made it this far without assistance… All of his senses instantly went on full alert as he realized he must not be alone on this idyllic looking isle. Someone else was here but were they friend or foe? What a ridiculous question, Jones… Why spare your life if they intended to harm you?

His memory brought back hazy images of a woman's soft face framed by a halo of pale blonde hair just as his eyes drew skyward to gaze upon that same angelic visage looming above. Clad in a full length, flowing gown that was only a few shades paler than her porcelain skin, she had arrived as stealthily as a ghost. She eyed him quizzically, as though she were as surprised to see him alert as he was startled by her arrival.

He initially recoiled, not from fear, but rather from her abrupt appearance. Now that he was able to see her features clearly, he was transfixed by her ethereal beauty. Only a being sent from the heavens could ever be so lovely. Why this angel would ever want to aid such a broken man as him was beyond his comprehension.

Awake since dawn, she'd left the human's side for only a short while to catch some breakfast and to collect sweet water from the cavern spring. The man would likely be parched when he awakened but unlike her, he couldn't survive by drinking from the saline seas.

After he'd collapsed on the beach yesterday beside her tentacled form, she'd immediately transformed back to her humanoid self to drag his unconscious body away from the shore before the tide set in. He was heavier on land than he'd been in the water but she managed to pull him beneath the safety of the trees. She'd done her best to clean his wounds while he slept but with little knowledge of human physiology, she wasn't sure what else she could do.

She had remained close to him throughout the night, continuing to tend to his injuries as needed and to provide needed warmth. Never in her long life had she been in such intimate proximity to a human but every ounce of her being was insisting that this was where she was meant to be. Despite her species having been bred to lure humans to their demise, here she was seeking to save one of them.

The debris that she'd found him amongst was proof that he'd survived a shipwreck but she wasn't quite sure how. In the treacherous waters that surrounded these islands, no ship that sailed too close to the siren's cove could resist their call. For him to have been found alive, floating into her placid bay, he must have some special power. No man was immune to the siren song, yet here he was.

His sleep had been restless, which she had anticipated and attributed to his injury. The jagged laceration at his temple appeared to be the most serious but she assumed he could have wounds not visible on the surface. She was also concerned about the amount of seawater he may have swallowed. He'd spewed a fair portion when she'd rescued him but more could be lingering within his lungs as he was without the benefit of transformative gills. It would certainly bear watching once he awakened.

As she returned to the sheltered thicket carrying a ceramic jar of potable water, she was surprised to find him alert and staring directly at her face. In deference to her understanding of human modesty, she'd donned a simple, breezy, off-white linen column gown. It was horribly itchy but she feared overt nudity might offend her companion so she'd suffer for his sake.

She dipped her free hand into the water jug and withdrew an ancient, hammered copper cup that she extended towards him. "Drink," she instructed, firmly, yet politely, but the command wasn't spoken in English.

He quirked an eyebrow suspiciously until he could see that the cup contained water. He then softened his features and accepted the offering, gulping the contents a little too quickly in an attempt to quench his thirst. It was the first he'd ingested in at least a day and he was ever so thankful that it didn't smell or taste as though it had been drawn from the bilge tanks. But there was something strange to her statement - he'd understood her although his weary mind couldn't fathom why.

"Who are you?" she queried in that same familiar, yet foreign tongue.

His military training kicked in as he stammered out his rank and full, legal name. "Lieutenant… Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones…" He paused for a breath before adding the rest of his title. "Of His Majesty's Royal Navy. At your service, m'lady."

"Ah, English," the woman replied with a giggle as she switched to his language. "You didn't appear to be Greek."

"Greek?" he repeated, brow furrowed in confusion. "Was that what you just spoke?"

"It was, and I am surprised that you seemed to understand."

"I learned Ancient Greek in the Naval Academy, just not the conversational form. You speak both Ancient Greek and the King's English?"

"I speak many tongues, but Greek is native to me."

"So, is that where I've landed?"

"No, not exactly," she responded cryptically. "These isles owe their heritage to Greece, but they've no allegiance to that land any longer."

"What do you call this land then?" he pressed, trying to gather more information as to how far off-course his imprisonment by the pirates had taken him.

"No name you would recognize from any map or chart. Officially, these islands exist only within the world of myth and legend."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," he sighed, rubbing his aching head as he shifted his position onto his back. "How did I get here? Have I crossed over into the ever after with you as the angel welcoming me?"

"No, you are still amongst the living, Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones. You are still very weak from nearly drowning out there in the bay so you should rest to regain your strength."

"Aye…," he replied without argument. "But first, Killian will suffice. I've no need for formalities. It's just habit…" He broke off his sentence there, squeezing his eyes closed as he thought of the question he absolutely needed to ask but feared the answer. "Did anyone else reach these shores?"

"No, only yourself."

"Oh," was his dejected response as he turned his head away from her gaze. Neither dared elaborate as unspoken words weighed heavy but after a few moments of tense silence, he at last spoke up. "In my malaise, it would seem I've forgotten to ask for your name, lass."

The question elicited an odd response from her. She remained quiet far longer than he expected, as though she had to think about her reply. "No one has asked me that question in a very long time… My given name was Erimetha, but for simplicity's sake, you are welcome to call me Emma."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Emma," he said with a weak, pained smile crossing his lips.

"You should get more rest," she insisted. "I can see the exhaustion in your eyes but I promise, I will be here when you wake."

"You'll have no protest from me," he answered sluggishly as he allowed sleep to claim him once again.

**********

A few more hours of deep slumber had been much needed, allowing Killian's battered body and troubled mind to relax and try to heal. As he began to stir, the crackle of flames perked his ears right before he noted the acrid scent of wood smoke mixing with the marine air. His eyes looked skyward where beyond the canopy of palm fronds and olive branches, the heavens were awash with pastel tones while the twilight sun began its descent below the horizon.

Another day passed.

More than a week now passed since he'd debarked his ship for that ill-fated expedition.

More than a week passed since he'd last seen his brother.

Was Liam even searching for him? Did he believe his younger brother had perished? Did he know he'd been captured?

He didn't even have the slightest idea where he was so how could he expect Liam to locate him?

His audible, defeated sigh drew Emma's attention from the fire she was stoking.

"You seem quite distressed," she noted, to his chagrin.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," he replied with clear irritation in his tone. "The events that have transpired over the course of this week have been rather overwhelming." He ignored the swell of nausea and the constant drumming within his skull to force himself into an upright, seated position. Muscles that hadn't been used since his escape from the pirate ship screamed in protest but he continued to push through all of the discomfort to look his alluring companion in the eye while she lowered herself to her knees.

She didn't wait for him to elaborate on whatever he'd endured, instead placing a woven reed basket onto the sand between them. "I thought you might be hungry," she said with an unassuming smile as she gave the basket a gentle push closer to him so he'd be able to inspect the contents. A quick glance downward revealed a bunch of bluish purple grapes, a few figs and a scattering of ripe green olives. "I have some freshly caught fish as well…"

"This is fine," he replied in a softened, more appreciative voice. "Best to take it easy so I don't lose my constitution, but thank you."

"I do believe you lost most of that constitution yesterday, but I absolutely understand," she chuckled, causing his cheeks to redden.

"Sorry about that… I really don't remember much after getting knocked off the ship's deck into the deep." He lowered his head with embarrassment. Vomiting in front of a beautiful woman was not generally the best first impression. He shyly reached for a handful of grapes, keeping his eyes averted as he popped one into his mouth, hopeful that the fruit would appease his growling stomach without further incident.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to further upset you," she replied as she slid further away from him. "It's been so long that I've clearly forgotten how to have a proper conversation…"

"You've no need to apologize," he retorted, extending his hand to grasp hers, staring into the melancholy of her emerald irises. "I am thankful for all you've done for this hapless sailor but is there no one else on this isle?"

"Not this far south. I chose this isolated isthmus long ago to escape others like me. It has been many years since I've had another creature to talk to who can actually talk back."

"You chose this isolation?" he repeated, incredulously.

"It was far preferable to what was expected of me…"

"Was it your family?" he pressed. "Were you unable to live up to what they required of you?" His curiosity was increasing with each inquiry, wondering if he might have more in common with this intriguing young woman. "Did you fall short of their expectations?"

"Not exactly," was her initial response, but she was caught unprepared by the introspective nature of his questioning. This human was proving he could be a kindred spirit in many ways but she wasn't ready to share. "Suffice it to say that I grew tired of their ideology and separated myself from their ways. It was best for all at the time."

He sensed there was so much more that she was holding back. His barrage of questions had opened a still-smarting wound and it was abundantly obvious that she wasn't ready to confide in him. Of course, if she had been alone on this shore for many years as she'd stated, it might be equally as long before he found rescue so there would be plenty of time to break down those walls. She'd saved his life. The least he could do in return was to help ease her troubles.

"You know, I'm a man who's spent a lifetime living in my brother's shadow, so if anyone understands what it is like to try to be something you're not, it would be me. Liam was always bigger, stronger, smarter… Graduated top of his class at the Naval Academy. Youngest ever Captain in His Majesty's Royal Navy. The bar was set pretty high and I was pushed to be just like him. I've never been good enough. I've worked hard to get where I am, but I'm not sure it's where I wanted to be… I took that stupid expedition into uncharted waters to prove that I was a leader and what happens? Pirates overtook us and most of my crew was slaughtered. The rest, myself included, were taken captive to be tortured and some were probably executed. Some leader I proved to be… I wish I'd never agreed to follow that cursed map!" He hung his head in shame, realizing that he shouldn't have unloaded so much baggage onto her. He didn't want her pity. "You must think I sound like a blabbering fool…"

"You sound like a man who's been trying to please his family rather than himself," she mused. "Perhaps fate brought you here to discover who you are?"

"You think this is the gods testing me?" he scoffed.

"If that is what you choose to believe."

"And you - were the gods testing you as well? Is that what caused our paths to cross here?"

"Perhaps more than you know," she replied cryptically as she pushed herself back up, brushing grains of loose sand from her gown as she stood. "It will be dark soon, but you will again be safe here for the evening. I shall leave the fruits here and you'll find the carafe of water there amongst the brush. Rest well, Killian."

"You as well, Emma."

He stared blankly at her departing silhouette as she strolled towards the flickering fire, the backlight of the flame giving her form an ethereal aura. Damn this woman! He might blame it on his concussion later but although he'd been coherent only a few scant hours, he was already entirely bewitched. He winced as his hand unconsciously rubbed the bruised and still raw skin adjacent to the gash at his forehead, momentarily speculating if this all might be some vivid hallucination or lucid dream.

Dream or not, he'd never experienced such a soulful connection with any person, yet alone any woman and it only solidified his desire to uncover her secrets. He'd gladly spend a lifetime trying.

#cssns #cssns20 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #la sirena #siren emma

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