#Holy hell I actually came up with something and posted it
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Bad Batch Tattoo HC
Okay, I admit that this is me fully self indulging in my need to make every character that hasn't shown skin on screen a heavily tattoed menace. Enjoy
Hunter
I refuse to be believe that he only has a face tattoo
This man is committed to the bad bitch lifestyle 100%
Otherwise he wouldn't had blacked out 50% of his face
For body tattoos I really like the idea that he kept it symmetrical with the rest of his body head to toe
We talking simplified, heavy, blacked out motives mirroring his anatomical insides
Hunter got balls and I tip my hat at that
For the right side of his body I think he has some well placed tattos in an "etching style", basically what would be considered medieval motives but make them star wars.
You can't convince me that Hunter hadn't had a (jedi)knight/Mandolorian warrior obsession phase when he was a kid. Enticed by the noble ideals of knighthood and the honourable ways of living of his donors culture, he had always wished to be more than just a soldier
I think symbols of traditional weapons and Mandolorian incography
Hunter does pretty good in sessions but likes/needs to take a lot of breaks to avoid severe sensory overloads
Doesn't bring snacks but sips away liters of soda during and directly after getting a tattoo
Aftercare 7/10 in the first month after that his tattoos are on their own
Please sir put some sunscreen on your face and some lotion on your body at least once a week
Crosshair
Equally committed to the bad bitch lifestyle as Hunter but prefers finer lines
I picture Crosshair as someone who uses tattoos as an emotional outlet
Being a certainly a rather reserved individual who keeps emotions and feelings in check and exclusively to himself, he expresses everything freely by etching it into his skin.
Crosshairs body is littered in a mix of Ignorant and cyber tribal. Lots and lots of words, small and big symbols that hold all kinds of meanings to him. Reminders of certain situation in his life, reassurances, impressions of feelings he had, you name it.
Likes to cover them up since they're basically his deepest inside spilled out all over his skin.
Likes to look at and appreciate them whenever he's alone. Could stare at them for hours on end, lost in reminiscing each one of them and what meaning they hold.
Definitely takes care of them the most out of the batch. He wants them looking as nice as possible for as long as possible. Basically his way of taking care of himself emotionally too.
Sits really well in sessions since size and complexity of the motives are rather manageable
He keeps himself distracted by toying with his toothpick or studying the wall art in the studio, already planing his next tattoo.
Always treats himself with with space McDonald's and a nap afterwards.
Tech
Boy looks like a soft polite nugget from the outside but he is packing heat
Loves heavy black work and cyber motives. Tattooed his thighs/legs himself. Also tattooed Crosshairs eye and Hunters left body side since getting a tattoo done this big gets tricky scheduling with a studio between missions.
Knows what he's doing.
For his own motives he has a good mixture of scientific based ones. Star maps, equations, visualized audio track of his favourite sound recording you name it.
Also has some well placed ones for aesthetic reasons. Serves him as creative outlet
Wants hand tattoos really bad but hesitates since he could be 'out of service' for a few days due to swelling.
Tech keeps his tattoes in rather good condition but since he doesn't hold as much emotional attachment to them as Crosshair he restricts himself to basic care.
Sits like a champ. It's all or nothing with him when it comes to tattooing so strap in. Brings snacks and soda to the session and likes to keep himself occupied on his holopad during it.
Wrecker
As much as I would like this big boy to be coverd in ink from head to toe he's the lightest tattooed member of the Batch.
Doesn't like needles, sucks at aftercare and needs Tech to constantly disrupt him from scratching his tattoos in the itchy stage.
He still has a few, most of them rather small and one big chest one, an explosive hazard warning, to testify his love for blowing things up.
Tech did all of them because there is no Tattoo artist in the whole galaxy patient enough to put up with his squeamish butt.
Due to his reckless behaviour and with that corresponding obtainance of injures some if his tattoos got a bit roughed up.
They still look pretty and surprisingly good giving the environment they have to obtain themselves in. Strong and resilient as there owner
Sits bad in sessions, even though he has a good pain tolerance. Ignores all kinds of aftercare and still somehow manages to get them not infected. Please sir, your skin is begging for some moisturizer.
#the bad batch#the bad batch headcanons#tbb crosshair#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#tbb tech#tbb headcanons#star wars#Eyes writes#Holy hell I actually came up with something and posted it
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snitches the cat and his favorite bat
I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.
EDIT
The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!
Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.
Word count is 1053.
Tumblr reference
masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics
“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”
“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”
Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.
Wait, what?
“You fucked this up.”
His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?
He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.
“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.
The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”
He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.
“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.
Uh- what now?
Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!
‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.
He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!
The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.
“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!
“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”
Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!
The window burst in.
Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-
Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.
Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-
He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.
“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”
Danny loved him.
The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.
Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.
Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.
“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”
“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.
The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”
“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”
Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.
“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.
“Not that fugly thing.”
Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.
“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”
“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.
That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.
“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.
He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.
Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?
“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”
The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”
Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”
That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”
Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!
Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”
“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.
Robin and Danny both growled that time.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
✦ damnation [ the vizier's vassal ]
– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.
– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper.
– Note: Please enjoy this post! Hopefully everything is okay, since I just copy and pasted from the quiz and skimmed.
– Pages: 42
– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!
The Diviner | The Vizier's Vassal | The Raven Retainer
Feathers. Colorful feathers tickled your nose. A woven shawl sat on your shoulders with vibrant colors and macaw feathers along the clip that held it in place above your collarbone. As your vision readjusted to the scenery, you could make out an old desert city stretching out as far as the eye could see, until it met over the horizon with the starry night sky. It was nothing like the court you were in moments ago. Instantly everything came flashing back to you, the trial, the judges, your punishment. This was your punishment. “Holy shit.”
“Is something wrong?”
You looked to the side, surprised to see a servant placing a tray beside you. You were on a balcony, a beautiful grand spacious terrace where the arches were decorated with ivy and walls of flowers while pillars of flames provided light and there was a large water fountain in the center. You were laying on the edge of that fountain, when you pushed yourself up and looked around. That’s when you noticed your clothes had changed too. Somehow your simple change of clothes from before had become easy-to-move-in loose trousers and a simple tunic, but with the colorful shawl over your shoulders that resembled wings. “What? What the hell?”
“Is there something wrong with the food?”
Food? You looked down at the tray the servant had brought, surprised to see a plate of kofta with a chalice of water. The delicious smell wafted in the air, making your mouth water and stomach grumble. How long has it been since you ate? Probably well before you were arrested. If you got food, you were expecting cold slop, not this scrumptious meal that was cooked to perfection. Instantly you snatched it up, assuring the servant, “No, no, forget it! This is fine, uh, thanks…!”
“Very well.” They bowed their head to you, “Please, enjoy the meal, vassal.”
Vassal? You stopped mid-bite, about to ask them about it and where you were, but they had already taken off. Well, you weren’t complaining. You had thought you were going to die, or end up in some horrible hell. This place was actually quite nice. You could feel the breeze of the cool desert air and smell the flora growing on this terrace, you heard the city below with the crackling of fire from the pillars and the running water beside you, not to mention you were eating the best food you ever tasted! If this was hell, then being banished might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you!
“You! Jamil’s vassal!”
There it was again. What the hell did they mean by vassal? Your cheeks were stuffed with food you had shoveled into your mouth, as you slowly and awkwardly turned around to face whoever called you. Who was Jamil? You had no idea. A little annoyed that your dinner was interrupted, you eyed the approaching stranger up and down before swallowing your food and muttering, “What do you want?”
Appearing offended at your response, the young man stomped up to you, closer so you could see him better in the dim lighting. He looks a little young, if you had to guess, you’d say the guy was no younger than eighteen. Sharp blue eyes and long thick black hair styled into a single braid, not to mention he wasn’t smiling. This was no servant judging by the expensive looking blue garbs he wore and the gold on his bronze ears that complimented his handsome face. It had to be someone of high standing. When he was right in front of you, he frowned down at you and placed his hands on his hips, “Where is Jamil? And where is my cousin?”
You lowered your plate of food, squinting incredulously at this stranger. Who did he think he was? Jamil? Cousin? “Your cousin…? Jamil…? How should I know?”
“You should know. As the vizier’s only vassal, you should know where Jamil is. That is your job, to serve him. Or is he slithering about in places he shouldn’t be?” As his blue eyes bore down at you, he continued his tirade, “You haven’t bowed your head or greeted me as everyone does, by saying, good day, Prince Jaseer. And you’re here slacking off while everyone else in the palace is dutifully working.”
“I’m on a lunch break.” You mumbled in reply, tempted to snap. Wait… had he said prince…? A beautiful royal in blue wearing gold, with long black hair, who is spirited and no-nonsense, like a princess in a fantasy tale. A princess that lived in a palace just like this one, where there was a vizier and sultan–– oh fuck. How was that possible? This was like a stupid kid’s story you heard all the time! Before you could ponder on the topic, you were reminded of who was in front of you by him cleaning his throat. You immediately bowed your head sloppily, begrudgingly, as you recited the words he wanted to hear. “Good day, Prince Jaseer…”
At your less-than-satisfactory response, he crossed his arms over his chest and replied still with that frown, “If you can’t answer my question, then there’s no use talking to you. I’ll find someone who can tell me where my cousin and Jamil are. Let it be known, I have my eye on you and your master. My cousin may be fond of you both, but I am not.”
When you slowly lifted your head, you watched the prince storm away, likely to go find his cousin, whoever that was, and the vizier, this Jamil guy. As soon as he turned a corner, you scrunched your nose and scoffed, “Brat.”
Wait… that meant this was a story. It was all too similar to a story that began much like: it begins on a dark night, where a dark man waits with a dark purpose. If this was that story then what were you…? Apparently working for the vizier, wearing a shawl of rainbows, and feathers… oh my god, you were the fucking parrot. As you resumed your eating you busied your mind with processing these thoughts. “At least the tax collector can’t find me here.”
All you knew was that you were in the role of his parrot, his pet. What a stupid role to end up in! In this version you hoped you were at least some sort of glorified servant! At least you weren’t dead, this was much better than that. You knew the tale of Aladdin by heart, it was a very popular story growing up. You had even envied the protagonist, a thief, for ending up with a genie and winning the love of the princess. Turns out that princess, or prince in this case, was not all that. Well, they always say to never meet your heroes. But, there was one thing that was bound to be great, no matter how much this story would change. The magic lamp that held the genie. You wanted it. Maybe if you stuck around this vizier long enough, you could take it for yourself whenever the opportunity presented itself. You had the advantage, you knew exactly what was going to happen. That genie could grant any of your wishes! It could take you home if you wanted. You could make all those judges rue the day they banished you! You could rule this world and yours! You could bathe in an endless amount of gold and cash! The possibilities were endless!
As you finished your meal, another figure came into view. The figure of a guard, like the ones you’ve been watching patrol and march around, approached you nervously. Only when he noticed you glance at him and nod your head, did he begin speaking, “G-Good evening, vassal. The candidates, they’re ready for the vizier, he’ll be here any moment. You are the only one he trusts, everyone knows this, won’t you put in a kind word for me? I fear he’s in a foul mood, his venture to the cave in the desert didn’t end well again.”
Candidates? Vizier? Cave in the desert? After a few seconds of the guard waiting in anticipation, you were able to connect the dots. This must’ve been a specific rendition of the story where the vizier found the Cave of Wonders in the desert but instead of using a magic machine he created to find the diamond in the rough that could enter the cave, he used his power behind the scenes and in the dark to search through prisoners and criminals and send those he thought might be worthy to die trying to enter the mystic cave. This vizier, Jamil, would no doubt be growing frustrated since he’s likely been keeping at this for so long without finding a single person that can successfully enter the cave. Jumping off your seat on the fountain after finishing your last bite of food, you looked over to the guard and smiled, “Alright, let’s go. We can’t leave the master waiting, can we?”
“Of course! Allow me to lead the way.” So you followed the meek little guard, and as you trailed after him you thought about what would happen and what would you do. The guard had said that it was a fact that the vizier trusted only you, or rather, the person who you’ve replaced. The prince didn’t notice you were not the vassal, and neither did this guard or any of the other servants, so it was likely that no one would notice unless you slipped up, not even the Vizier Jamil. Hopefully.
You watched as the pristine halls of the palace became dark and dim the deeper you went. As the smooth walls became rugged stone lit only by lamps of fire, and the lush green plants and overpriced furniture and decorations became absent. There were also, noticeably, less people. It felt like you and the guard were the only ones as you followed them deeper into what you guessed was a dungeon where you heard chains rattling and the echoing screams of those held captive. Before you could enter the room, the guard turned to you and pleaded,
“Please, stay here. I’m sure seeing you will give the vizier a bit of peace. He should be here any second now. I will go ahead and be sure everything is in order.”
Before you could even protest, the guard scurried ahead to the end of the hall and not too long after, you detected footfall behind you. When you turned around, you saw what you presumed had to be the Vizier Jamil. The vizier looked sort of imposing as he appeared from the dimly lit halls, and with the flames on the wall you could just make out his appearance. A thin figure clothed in red and black robes decorated with gold, holding a golden staff that ended in the shape of a cobra’s head. Long thin hair as black as night coiled down his brown shoulders like snakes in multiple small braids and loose strands decorated with gold, and instantly his sharp gray eyes painted with eyeshadow darted over to you upon noticing your staring. He looked irked, but since you supposedly had a good relationship with him, maybe you could poke and prod without worrying about suffering any consequences. From what you recalled, the vizier’s parrot in the tales was a loud-mouthed creature with a bad temper.
“Welcome back, oh great vizier. So, how did it go?”
“Not a word.” The vizier hissed, sending you a glare. Yet it wasn’t threatening, it felt more… annoyed. Like when your friend was pestering you, except without the light-heartedness. At least he didn’t snap, he did have the power to command you to be put to death. Yet all he did was give you a look before his frown instantly morphed into a stoic expression in the blink of an eye, so fast that it sent you reeling.
Jamil wasted no time in walking forward, not bothering with greetings as he entered the first room of the dungeon that was dingy and dirty. Inside was the guard from before, nervously standing off to the side just across from a line of prisoners in shackles with their heads hanging low, and more guards behind them. These prisoners reminded you of yourself, but less. Now you’re free of any shackles, you’re wearing fine clothes and eating food made by the best chefs while living in the luxurious palace. To avoid being at the center of attention, you stood off to the side, leaning against a corner. Listening in could give more insight.
You watched intently, curiously, as Jamil approached the line of prisoners, scanning them all with those sharp eyes as he walked by them slowly. The men and women in rags and chains tensed when he stepped near, but kept their eyes glued to the ground. Whether it was out of respect or fear, you weren’t sure, but you watched as some of them squirmed in place or nervously glanced at him. After a minute of going down the line of a dozen or so prisoners, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face the guard who guided you. On his face was obvious disappointment.
“You bring me the rough, but never a diamond.” That cold stare of his remained on the anxious guard, never looking away even as he commanded the others, “Take them away.”
You purse your lips and shake your head, watching as the other guards forcefully dragged the prisoners down another hall, to a fate unknown. Poor suckers. You could hear them pleading, begging the vizier for mercy from whatever end they knew awaited them. In one rendition of the story, when the princess snuck out of the palace and gave apples to poor children, apples she had no money on her to pay for, she nearly lost her hand as punishment. It was likely that these prisoners were about to lose much more than a single hand.
The meek guard sent you a pleading look as they whispered frantically, “You said you would put in a kind word for me…!”
Turning your attention to them, you scoffed, “I never said that. I said I would follow you.”
“You…!” At your shrug, he directed his sights towards the vizier who was walking away, his back toward him as he seemed to be prepared to follow the guards and prisoners going elsewhere within the dungeon. “Please, my vizier.” The vizier stopped, and the words were caught in the guard’s throat until he finally forced them out with wavering uncertainty, making it sound more like a question than a statement. “... Perhaps this diamond in the rough does not exist…?”
For a moment he paused but didn’t turn around, and quietly replied, “They’re out there.” A response with unwavering certainty.
“But we’ve searched for months!” It appears that the guard was showing signs of frustration as well. Who knows how many prisoners they’ve interrogated and how many criminals they’ve captured in these months, all in an attempt to satisfy the vizier’s wish of finding a diamond in the rough. “I do not understand what could possibly be in that cave that could help a… a man as great as you. You are already second only to the sultan!”
“Second? Uh-oh.” You exclaimed, bracing yourself for what was to come and ignoring the guard’s growing irritation towards you. In the tale, yes the vizier worked for the sultan, he was the sultan’s most trusted advisor. But, behind the vizier’s facade of charm and loyalty, there was only a burning hate for the sultan who believed in him. The vizier wished to be the most powerful man in the kingdom, second to no one. So to be told he was second, straight to his face, would be like a slap. You watched as Jamil turned to the guard with a deep frown, and you could only whistle, “Who’s in trouble now~?”
Jamil turned to face him fully, staring at the guard beneath him with such a disdainful gaze before questioning firmly, “Do you believe second is enough?”
Without hesitation, they nodded, the answer to them was obvious. “Yes. You were not born to be sultan, you are not of royal lineage. His Majesty, Kalim Al-Asim, was born to be sultan.”
Kalim Al-Asim. So that was the sultan’s name. The mere mention of him was enough to tick off the vizier. He narrowed his eyes and began to speak in a quiet murmur, “Do you know that I’ve served him my entire life? From the day I was born, they dictated that I was a servant to him and they chained my entire existence so it depended on him.” Slowly he stepped forward, inching closer with every word he spat like venom. “You have no idea of the things I’ve been forced to do for him. The sacrifices I’ve made and blood that’s stained my hands, the bodies I’ve buried and times I’ve watched him be praised for his minimal efforts I can easily best.” The closer he got, the more frightened the guard appeared until he was right in front of them. “Everyone will one day learn that I am not worthy of a mere second place, I am supposed to be first. That’s why I need the lamp, and I no longer need you––!”
Right before your eyes, you watched as Jamil swiftly struck him with the bottom of his staff and he fell backwards into a well. A seemingly bottomless well, because you heard his scream growing distant until an unsettling silence lingered. You covered your mouth in shock, but Jamil paid you no mind. It’s as if he’s done a dozen times before, as if you had witnessed all of them before.
After a moment, he sighed and lowered his staff, regaining his composure to cover up for the anger that slipped through in that moment. Again, in a flash, he had a stoic expression as he turned to gaze at you in the corner, when he beckoned you closer with a motion of his finger. “Come here, my vassal. It’s time for a meeting with that irritating sultan.”
Now you were on your way to meet the sultan. Kalim. You hoped he wasn’t anything like Jamil. This vizier was to be feared, but at least he didn’t seem to mind you. So you probably won’t be pushed down a well anytime soon. As you followed him when he began walking, he questioned abruptly,
“What did you do while I was gone?”
This wasn’t good. You weren’t here for that long before he returned, and you got the feeling that Jamil was a particularly observant fellow judging by how he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “That royal brat confronted me while I was eating. They’re so annoying.”
“Ah, Prince Jaseer?” Slowly he nodded, as if agreeing with your words. Phew. You were doing alright, fitting the role just fine it seemed. “Annoying would be putting it lightly. He’s just another entitled royal born with a golden spoon in his mouth, an ignorant person who knows nothing of how the real world works.”
“You’re telling me. The guy made me bow and recite a greeting like I was nothing but a pleb beneath him! Then he had the gall to say I was lazy! I was eating! Can’t a person like me eat in peace once in a while? I was starving!”
By now you were in a better part of the palace, where you were once again surrounded by riches. Upon hearing your response, Jamil replied without hesitation, “You are lazy when I’m not around.” At his remark, you stared at him incredulously as he continued with zero reservations, “You are uncaring, murderous, deceitful, aggressive, cunning, and annoying.”
Unable to help it, you snapped back in reply, beginning to rant and list off your fingers. “ME? Look in the mirror bud, you just basically described yourself! You’re cruel, immoral, narcissistic, power-hungry, sadistic, and secretly deranged! You're a two-faced, snake!” When you looked over to him, he still had that stoic expression but he rolled his eyes. Your jaw dropped. There was no way he just fucking––
“You used that insult, two-faced snake, two weeks ago.” Before you could add anything more to the growing pile of insults, he lightly tapped your forehead with the cobra head of his golden staff, appearing unbothered. “Come up with something else or get on my level, then you can talk back. For now, be quiet. We’re nearing where Kalim wanted to meet us. I don’t need to remind you to be on your best behavior around the sultan.”
Rubbing your forehead, you glared at him and mumbled, “Oh, I’ll come up with something shocking, you sorry sack of––ACK!” You coughed, bending over in pain as he quickly jabbed the end of his staff against your stomach to shut you up just before a silk curtain separating the halls from a room opened up.
“Jamil! Oh, and your vassal too! I’m so happy to see you guys! You’re just the ones I wanted to see!”
You had to squint just to look past the stranger’s bright beaming smile. It was a young man, just a bit shorter than Jamil, yet he was dressed in finer garbs than the vizier. The bright pearly-white smile matched some of his odd white strands of hair that poked out past the silk cloth messily tied around his head, the turban he must’ve usually wore to show his high status was off to the side beside a model of the entire city. The energy in his red eyes was just as bright as his smile, but even brighter than that was the gleaming golden accessories glittering over his tawny brown complexion. Golden rings and jewels over his fingers, gold buttons stitched onto his silk clothes, even the tiniest patterns on those silk garbs looked shiny enough to be real gold. So much gold––
Jamil wore a charming devilish smile, but once this Kalim looked away for a second, he quickly slapped your hand as soon as you lifted it, sending you a warning glare, as if saying, do not touch. You glared right back, but as soon as Kalim returned his attention to the two of you again, he pleaded, “I could really use your help, Jamil! You’re the person I can trust the most!”
“You have always placed your trust in me, and I’ve never failed to deliver.” He replied smoothly with a bow of his head. Damn, he was really good at lying. It was a teensy bit concerning.
“It’s all this suitor thing with Jaseem!” Kalim exclaimed, beginning to lay down his worries, “You know I promised I would take care of my cousin before his parents passed, I promised them to help him find a wife when he got older. And now, well, he’s older! I don’t remember it being nearly this hard when I had to marry.”
The vizier followed Kalim as he continued to rant and bemoan, stepping beside him as they stopped in front of various shelves of scrolls and books and tables of documents and knick-knacks. Meanwhile, you followed closely behind, reminding yourself not to input anything or risk gaining suspicion. Once Kalim was finished, only then did Jamil respond casually, “To be fair, your marriage didn’t last long due to… unfortunate circumstances. I’m afraid Prince Jaseer is different. He’s already met ten times the suitresses you ever did. Your standards are nowhere near as high as the prince’s.”
“Pfft…” You slapped your hand over your mouth, going quiet as both Jamil and Kalim looked over at you. Fuck, you were in trouble now, weren’t you?
Kalim blinked before joining in on the shameless laughter, lifting the mood substantially. “You’re right, I never had this problem. It honestly didn’t take a lot to impress me! Oh, have you eaten today? You should totally try these cheese and sauces on crackers! They’re my favorite snack right now! Here!”
You held up your hands in defense, “Wait, a minute. Actually, maybe–– mmph!” You nearly choked as he abruptly stuffed a handful of the crunchy saltines in your mouth, and he placed his other hand to pat your back so you couldn’t step away.
The sultan grinned as you were forced to swallow the food. That’s when he held up more, and urged, “It’s good, isn’t it? You should try more! Hey, you can even have dinner with me if you want! The more the merrier, right?” Before you could even input anything, Kalim shouted loud enough so the servants outside could hear him, “Keep the snacks coming! And make sure to have an extra seat for later! I’d like to eat dinner on the balcony tonight with Jamil’s vassal! Make sure to serve the best, most delicious dishes we have to offer!”
“Hah, you have such a kindness that extends to everyone, don’t you, Kalim? Even to the dense little attendants.”
You shot the vizier a glare at his not-so-subtle jab directed towards you. The only reason you didn’t say anything to his face was because you still had a mouthful of crackers that you could barely swallow without gagging.
Clearing his throat, his soft laughter stopped as he resumed his professional attitude and he was back to business. “Now then, allow me to divine a solution to this pesky problem. As well as take care of… the work you often leave in my care. As per usual.” When you glanced at him, the moment Kalim spun on his heel to catch up with the slowly moving vizier is when you noticed the dark haired man’s annoyance that flashed for a second. “However, I will be needing access to the restricted area of the library, to look at the ancient texts of laws and such. You understand, don’t you?”
“The restricted section? The one reserved only for me and other members of the royal family?” The young man tilted his head, appearing a bit apprehensive as he tapped his finger against his chin in thought. “I dunno, Jamil. Normally I’d let you, but I think that’s against the rules. There’s a lot of secrets hidden there.”
“It’s necessary for us to continue.” Lifting his golden staff, he nonchalantly examined its enchanting ruby red eyes before his fingers slid across the smooth golden surface and he turned it so the cobra head was gazing right at the sultan. A slight sly smile grew on his face as he hummed, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
You watched with intrigued, both fascinated and horrified as he pressed the end of his staff against the ground and leaned the cobra head forwards, causing the sultan to stiffen up and go oddly silent. That’s when you realized it was happening. Jamil was using his powers to hypnotize and manipulate the sultan, just like in the stories.
The sultan’s own red eyes mirrored the rubies of the staff, but quickly his smile dropped into a blank expression as held a staring contest with the cobra head. As if in a trance, he quietly repeated the words spoken to him. “––Everything will be fine…”
That smile on his face grew to a smirk as the vizier repeated his request, “Permission to use the restricted area of the library?”
“Yes, Jamil…” Kalim remained unblinking. His once bright eyes full of life were now… empty. It’s like they were covered with a mist. Slowly, robotically, he held up a blue diamond ring and spoke, “The key… Whatever you need will be fine.”
Instantly he snatched it up, tucking the ring away safely within his robes as he thanked, “You are most gracious, my liege. Now, run along and have fun, enjoy your dinner. Hm?”
“Yes…”
With a swish of his cloak, Jamil began to walk away and you trailed behind him as Kalim stayed in the room, mindlessly gazing out the window. As soon as you were past the curtains and saw no one else present, Jamil’s professionalism dropped and he rolled his eyes, wearing an annoyed frown. You spat out the crackers you couldn’t swallow, it left crumbs in your mouth and salt that burned the roof of your mouth but at least now you were able to speak your mind a little more freely. “I can’t take it! If he tried to stuff one more cracker in my face, I’m was gonna––!”
“Calm yourself, my vassal.” Jamil replied, his expression less refined and now just a resting bitch face. Turning to you, he stopped and instructed, “I will go scour that private area of the library to see what secrets it may hide. The key to our troubles may very well be hidden among those carefully guarded secrets. You will stay here.”
You gawked. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Pressing a pointed finger against your shoulder, he continued his instructions, “Keep that halfwitted idiot busy, stay for dinner as he wants. Have a little tea party with him if it amuses him. Afterwards, I expect to see you back within my tower. I’d prefer you not stay around Kalim for longer than necessary, especially because his ignorance may rub off on you. Or has it already?”
“Haha, yeah, sure, laugh it up. Very funny.” You scowled at his grin, watching as he turned to leave. “Have fun doing that lame boring reading! I’m gonna enjoy this time off eating until I can’t take another bite!” Once he was out of sight, you spat, “Jerk.” And promptly returned back inside beside the sultan.
When you found him, he was still gazing out the window with those empty eyes. The hypnotic technique continued to last for a few seconds even after Jamil took his leave. However, thankfully, after waving your hand in front of his face and lightly slapping his cheeks, he was beginning to regain consciousness. “Hey, you! Kalim–– er… sultan, wake up.”
Kalim blinked repetitively, the hazy mist in his gaze disappearing until his eyes were bright and red like polished rubies once again. As if awaking from a deep sleep, he groaned and pressed his cheek against your hand, not fully realizing what was happening until he blinked again and looked up at you. “What…? What happened? Ah, I’m sorry, I zoned out again…!” Despite realizing how close you two were, he made no effort to move. Was he that trusting or that stupid? “Where’s Jamil?”
“He’s busy. Had to go back to work, uh… sultan.” You were a little upset that he’d leave you with this odd little ruler, but you couldn’t complain too much when you’d get to have your fill of food.
“Ooooh, okay then! And please, you can just call me Kalim! Any friend of Jamil’s is a friend of mine.” He hummed, taking your hands as soon as you stepped away and lowered them away from his face. “I’m so happy to finally get to spend time with you! Jamil is always so hardworking and you are too! I mean, you’re always helping him, and he seems to trust you a lot and that’s saying something because he hardly trusts anyone! So I’ve never gotten to really talk this much to you until now! This is a little exciting, isn’t it? Come on!” Without warning, he began to tug you along, apparently forgetting the exchange from earlier. So he really didn’t remember that he had been hypnotized. As he dragged you along outside of the rooms and down the pristine extensive hallways, he continued, “I wanna know all about you! Our dinner should be ready by now! And what better way to get to know someone than over dinner? What kind of food do you like? What’s your favorite drink? Oh! And we can’t forget dessert!”
Suddenly you were out on the balcony where you first gained consciousness, it was still dark out. It all happened so quickly, in a flash you were seated on a long plush chaise lounge draped with numerous pillows and blankets. In a rush, the servants came out, setting out tables and trays filled to the brim with food until you were surrounded by mounds of food that all smelled so delectable. Before you could even think of something to say, Kalim was already piling food on your plate, making it so high that it resembled a small mountain.
“Eat as much as you want! Oh, try this! And this too! And you gotta have a little of this! Dinner is one of my favorite times of the day, because you get to relax with someone, whether it be family, a friend, or a complete stranger, and talk about anything!”
There was so much on your plate that you almost struggled to peek over it just to see the face of the sultan. Yeah you wanted food, but this was too much even for you… As the young man explained what dish was what, you glanced behind your shoulder at the servants transporting trays and pitchers. Your eyes narrowed, but you pretended to pay attention to the sultan by nodding at whatever he said, as you watched out of the corner of your eye. One servant carrying another silver tray, leaned forward to place it on the table, while his other arm was folded at his midsection. His body had been covering your view of the pitcher, but once he stepped back and began to walk away, you noticed the liquid fizzing for a moment and became an odd color before the solution dissolved to blend in with the beverage. That substance he slipped into the drink… was he trying to poison the sultan?
Your eyes followed the servant as he turned on his heel and began to retreat towards the kitchen. Narrowing your gaze, you interrupted Kalim while he was going on about some story of him having dinner with other royals, when you blurted out, “Hey, you.”
It went quiet, the sultan appeared confused and leaning over to get a better look at what you were glaring at while all the servants froze in their tracks.
“Yeah, you with the stupid face and red sash. I’m talking to you. What the hell were you slipping in that drink? You sure have guts to be doing that in front of me. Either that or you're brain-dead.”
Everyone tensed up at your implication, the guards nearby honing in on the servant with the red sash around their waist. Immediately they had them restrained, one of the head guards ripped off his sash to remove a suspicious vial with some liquid still left in it. Despite the servant’s panicked squirming in the hold of the soldiers, the head guard turned towards the sultan, holding up the vial and nodding in affirmation, “Your Majesty, it is poison…”
“Again?” Kalim sighed somberly, slowly gripping onto your sleeve.
Again? What the hell did he mean by again? How many times did this usually happen? As if on cue, the remaining servants rushed in to remove all the food that had been brought. Now, they would have to double check everything to make sure nothing else was poisoned. Without even being told, the armored men escorted away the frightened servant that had failed to harm the sultan. Instantly the area was cleared, save for extra guards further away but still close enough to watch.
After a few seconds, the realization of something appeared to dawn on the sultan’s face as he gripped your sleeve tighter and peered up at you with wide sparkling red eyes. “You… You saved me! I knew it! You are trustworthy! Wait, what am I talking about? Of course you’re trustworthy, Jamil trusts you, but this just confirms it! I might’ve been poisoned if you hadn’t said anything! You are a good person, just like I thought! You see, I’m a great judge of character so I knew that you were good from the moment I met you!”
You resisted the urge to laugh at his choice of words about you being a good person. At first you thought of letting it happen, but if the sultan were to die now, that would rush things along. Prince Jaseer would inherit the throne if he gets married quick enough, and then he would definitely get rid of you and Jamil. Then, you’d be poor and powerless on the streets, or worse, dead. So what did you do? Call out the servant, duh. “It’s nothing, really.”
Shaking his head in refusal, he continued to insist, “But it is something! Don’t be so modest. Everyone should know of what you did for me tonight! The whole kingdom deserves to know! You deserve a reward! If you need anything, just say it, and it's yours! Anything at all!”
You couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes as a semi-amused smile appeared on your face, “Don’t say that, I’m going to make you regret it.” You’d definitely rob him blind if you could. He would be such an easy target too, like stealing candy from a baby, if he wasn’t always being watched by a troop of guards twenty-four-seven.
For a moment he was quiet, his red eyes analyzing your smile with surprise before he broke out into the brightest beaming expression that nearly made you shriek from being blinded. “But I mean it! I really do!” As his hands gripped your arm a little tighter, he noticed your colorful shawl. Curious, he began to trace his fingers across the woven shapes, entranced by the colors as he murmured in awe, “Woah, I really like your shawl. The feathers are pretty, and I love the colors! I think I might want something styled like that.”
He was actually… strangely casual for a guy that was nearly poisoned. Then again, maybe it was a common thing for him. He was the most powerful man in the entire kingdom. “You like it that much?” You watched as he quickly nodded, to which you plucked one of the five long red feathers beside the clip of the shawl. Its red faded into blue, with one edge even tinted with the tiniest bit of yellow and green. “It’s the only thing keeping me from freezing right now, so I can only give you this. That way you can show it to your tailors or stylists or whatever you rich people have, and they know what you want.” It was totally not to distract him and get the sultan off your back so he’d let go of your arm.
Kalim’s eyes widened as he swiftly reached out and gingerly took the feather in his hands. Those eyes of his looked at the feather with wonder, as if it was worth more than rubies or gold. Turning his wonder-filled expression up at you, he looked so joyful as he leaned forward and spoke, “Thank you…! I love it!” Then, his expression flattened a bit to a more solemn look as he glanced down at the feather he held tightly and back to you. His voice got even quieter so as to not be heard by anyone that may be in the halls nearby. “Since I trust you… can I tell you a secret…?”
You deadpanned, turning your attention away to the scenery. “No.”
“Whew, okay, here it goes…” Focusing on the feather, he quickly forced out, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this before…! There. I said it!”
In that moment you stopped to squint at him, not believing a word he said. “Wait a second, you’re kidding, right? I mean, you’re sultan. You live in a giant palace, you have countless servants and soldiers, your kingdom is one of the most powerful and prosperous! Don’t lie to me, I bet you have people lining up to give you gifts everyday! Gifts of gold, jewels, all that fancy expensive stuff!”
“I’m not lying! All of that is true, but… this gift is special!” Kalim immediately replied, only gripping the feather tighter as he explained, “I think gifts given on the spot, out of the goodwill of your heart, are way more valuable. Yeah, I get a lot of gifts, and I’m thankful! But it’s not the same! I will treasure this feather because it’s from you, and your kindness!” Eventually his gaze traveled down to your shawl, he was shivering a bit from the cold desert winds. Looking back up at you, then your shawl, then you again, it’s as if he was trying to convey something. “I-It’s getting a little cold, aha… Can I…?”
Frowning, you flopped back onto the soft cushions, your fingers gripping the very edges of the shawl. “This is the one thing that’s mine. No, you can’t have it.”
“Haha, I wasn’t asking for it! Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be asking my tailors to make me one like yours so we can match! I meant I wanted to share it with you right now!” With zero hesitation, he flopped down beside you. He was close, so incredibly close, enough that you could feel his body warmth and he could probably feel yours. It did not help that when you tried to inch away, he took the initiative to snuggle closer, draping the ends of your shawl around himself as he continued to hold the feather you gifted him.
When he was right up against you and gazed up at you with those bright eyes and always happy smile, you scowled and muttered, “What’s with you? You got a problem, princey?”
Without missing a beat, he responded casually. “I’m not a prince, that would technically be my cousin! I’m a sultan! Although I was a prince before, but not anymore.”
“That’s not what I–– nevermind.” You tried to ignore him for your own good. You couldn’t exactly get away with hurting the sultan, no matter how much you wanted to take a swing. Well, it wasn’t all bad was it? This meant you were on his good side, right?
As you glanced back at him, you could feel him beside you. Shoulder-to-shoulder, as he gazed up at the stars, looking up at the endless night sky with twinkling eyes. “This is great! I rarely ever have company like this. I mean, I always have company but like–– company that I can just relax with, you know? Oh, look up there, at those stars––!”
At this point you weren’t really focused on the sultan or what he was saying. Actually, you were focused on something just past him, past the stone curved ends of the balcony where you could see the rest of the city and part of the palace. That's when you made out a figure, like a small ant against the vast backdrop, running fast. They moved quickly, jumping over obstacles and climbing walls like an acrobat, as if it came natural to them, all while avoiding the lights of torches and staying in the shadows. They were dressed in rags too, like a peasant. Like… a thief.
“––Anyways, that’s the story behind my favorite constellation! What about yours? Do you have a favorite?”
“OH MY GOD––” Your eyes widened as the realization struck. The thief, they were the protagonist! The protagonist was making their move!
The sultan appeared startled at your sudden exclamation, but his shock quickly turned to a smile as he laughed, “Did you like the story that much? I like it too! Let me think of another one to tell you about!”
Immediately pushing him away, you sat up and scrambled to get off the chair, “Welp, this is getting weird. And I have to go report back to Jamil! Damn, you know how it is, with work and all. You get it, don’t you? Yeah, of course you do!” Brushing yourself off, you bolted just as the sultan was sitting up and looking bewildered at your odd reaction. “Okay, I’m gonna go before you can say anything, m’kay, bye!”
“W-Wait!”
Nope. Not waiting. You ran, not even sure how to reach the vizier because you had no idea where his main quarters were, so you disguised your lack of knowledge as questions such as looking for his extra robes or even where the vizier himself was currently at, demanding answers along the way from unsuspecting servants until they pointed you in the direction. You had to hurry, you had to point out the thief so Jamil could use him and lure him to the lamp. Once he got the lamp, you’d take over from there, you’d come up with a plan eventually. Just not right now, not when you were rushing to make it back to inform the advisor of the intruder as quickly as possible. You climbed the spiraling staircases to one of the towers where the vizier’s quarters were located.
As soon as you threw open the doors, you found him looking over a tome. However, as soon as you entered, he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow as you heaved for a breath while you slammed the door shut behind you and leaned your weight against the wooden surface. You exclaimed breathlessly, “Thief!! Thief in the palace!”
“Thief in the palace?” Jamil parroted, looking even more perplexed as he narrowed his eyes at you and you pointed to his open balcony that overlooked part of the city and part of the palace.
Stumbling over to the balcony, you leaned your weight on the stone edges, letting the cool desert air fan your face. Quietly you mumbled, “That’s what I said. Catch up, or are you deaf?” When Jamil joined you at the balcony, he stood straight and tall as his dark eyes gazed out into the night.
There, shrouded in the shadows, was the thief moving nimbly on rooftops and wooden pergolas covered in vines. They moved so quietly and effortlessly, going unnoticed even by the armored guards on patrol just below them. Finally, they disappeared into a hall, where there would only be servants cleaning and handling chores to keep the palace pristine. For once he finally appeared pleased, content, as he glanced at you and instructed, “Have the guards extend an invitation to our intruding guest. I will be escorting them to the cave. And you, my vassal?”
You? As much as you wanted to go, it wasn’t like you could go into the cave yourself. You also couldn’t reveal that you knew that this thief was the diamond in the rough that the vizier had spent months searching for. No matter how much you wanted that lamp now, you couldn’t risk changing the plot. It was probably better to stay here until the thief would come back with the lamp, genie, with riches and a new name. While they would be busy with wooing the prince, that would be your opportunity to strike. “I’ll stay, keep Prince Jaseer and Kalim off your back if they come asking.” When you noticed Jamil’s attention still on you, you clarified smoothly, “I don’t wanna watch another failure with the cave going up in smoke.”
“Quit being so pessimistic. This is the one.” He scolded, immediately turning to walk away. However, not before leaving another command to follow. “Go, make yourself useful and inform the guards immediately. I’ll be preparing to leave with the thief.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up and prepared yourself to rush down the steps and inform the guards. At the very least, you could get some well-earned rest once he left. “As you wish, your rottenness.” ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
“(Y/n)?”
Your peaceful slumber in the vizier’s quarters was disturbed. On the lounge on the balcony you lay, eyes groggily blinking open only to be met with a familiar face leaning over you. You blinked again for extra measure, your mind processing who you were seeing.
“Good morning!” Kalim smiled, his head just over yours. Out of instinct you jolted upright, accidentally hitting your forehead against his. “Ow! Ah–– you’re finally awake!” The young man cheered, ignoring the pain on his forehead as you hissed and rubbed your own head where it now hurt from the brunt of the impact.
Glaring at the sultan for waking you up from a pleasant sleep, you squinted at his bright expression while rubbing your eyes and the now sore spot on your skull. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even find me? How did you get in here? I locked the door before I fell asleep!”
“Oh, that? Well, when everyone found out I was looking for you, they told me that you were asleep in Jamil’s tower. Obviously I knew where that was, but when I came to find you, the door was locked! I know, I know, Jamil really likes his privacy, but I just wanted to see you and you wouldn’t open the door! So, I just had the guards use the backup key to open the door and I’ve been waiting here ever since!”
You sat up, taking a moment to process everything. If you weren’t already squinting because of your vision not yet adjusted to the brightness of the sun from the open balcony and grogginess from your own sleep, you would’ve been squinting even more to look at his smiling face incredulously. Rubbing your tired face, you sighed, “Let me get this straight. You couldn’t wait, so you had your people basically break into the vizier’s room and for what? Just to say good morning? How long were you waiting for me to wake up? Don’t tell me you were watching me sleep.” You scoffed somewhat sarcastically.
“I wasn’t watching you! Well… kinda. I just wanted to make sure you were okay! I do owe you.” You were kidding about that last part, so his response genuinely surprised you. Before you could even think up something to say, he stopped leaning over the long lounge chair you were on and stood up to show off a new article of clothing. A colorful woven shawl, similar to yours. “Look! Isn’t it great? They finished it while I was sleeping, and now we match! The tailors sprayed it with perfume too so it even smells like jasmine!”
Frowning as you watched him happily twirl and show off the shawl, the feather you gave him stuck to his headband, you muttered, “All I smell is bullsh––”
“Shhhh!” Appearing incredibly content with his new shawl, he continued to chatter on happily. “I love it so much! Tell me, is this the latest fashion trend in the city? It’s been a while since I’ve gone out.”
You replied gruffly, “I dunno, why don’t you stick your head out the window and check? I’m not your tailor. Why don’t you ask them? Or even ask to go out or something.”
At your words, his smile faltered the tiniest bit. It turned somewhat sad, but he continued to force that cheery expression as he averted his gaze downward albeit awkwardly. “I’d love to go out! But… I’m not really allowed. I’m sultan, remember? I’m only allowed to go out during special occasions, and I’ve never been allowed to just be with everyone else past the gates. My dad used to say it was dangerous, and even now the council says it’s not a good idea.”
Wait a moment… This could work well to your advantage. There was plenty of time before Jamil returned. It would serve as a good excuse to gain your bearing and at least a bit of knowledge on the environment past the high palace walls. Plus, you would get points with the sultan if you made him happy. Besides, being on Kalim’s good side, as annoying as he was, could work out in the end. Especially if things start to go south. It didn’t hurt to be trusted by both the first and second most powerful people in the entire kingdom. Damn you were a genius. You smiled somewhat slyly. “Who says you gotta ask?”
“H-Huh?” For once Kalim was caught off guard as you hopped up from your spot on the lounge. Once you got up, so did he. He followed you as you stepped over to open a cabinet of clothing. “You mean, go without asking? You really mean it?”
Kalim was sultan, he’d obviously be recognized without a disguise. But if you just covered his white hair and lower face and switched his riches to common rags, he’d be fine. Probably. Hopefully. Picking up a few handkerchiefs and scarves he could use, you pretended to reconsider, “I dunno… We’d have to sneak out and break the rules–– just kidding, let’s sneak out!” Holding up some cloaks and fabrics he could use as a hood to cover his signature white hair and to mask his lower face, your smile grew as you persuaded him further, “Come on, let’s just go for a midday stroll and snack. We’ll just let everyone think you’re spending time in the vizier’s chambers waiting for him to return or something. Just follow me, out the window, ‘round the garden, I’ll carry you over, and we’re gone.”
Those red eyes of his turned to the open balcony and view of the city on this hot summer’s day. He stood still, as if contemplating it. But it didn’t take much convincing, or that long to ponder over his decision, because like in a snap, he broke out into a grin and eagerly bobbed his head up and down. That’s when you knew you had him in the palm of your hand.
It took a bit of tip-toeing around, but eventually you managed to get Kalim past the gates with little to no trouble. You had a few coins you snatched from Jamil’s chambers safely secured within a pocket on the inside of your shawl, along with a few knives you tucked away in various parts of your outfit but those were mostly for a last resort. You didn’t plan to go too far because you didn’t know the layout of the city well, and plus you knew there was always the chance of thieves and pickpockets skulking about. The good thing was, that thief protagonist wouldn’t be here, they’d still be in the desert and the Cave of Wonders. All you were here for was a snack and to make the sultan happy, and happy sounded like an understatement.
The young man was practically glowing, vibrating with energy as he danced on his heels. Kalim fit in surprisingly well. Since he wasn’t tall, he didn’t stand out that much in the busy crowd. Not to mention the lack of silks and fancy garbs helped. It was a good idea you gave him that average quality material to wear. On his body he wore a casual old white tunic turned beige with age and loose-fitted orange pants, with that rainbow shawl he commissioned recently and a dark orange hood with a black cloth around his lower face to top it off. The only thing you could really see if you got close to his face, were those big red eyes just sparkling with life.
“Stop staring at me with those big old eyes.”
Immediately he closed his eyes. Although the black fabric concealed the lower portion of his face, you could just tell he was wearing some stupid grin by the slight crinkle appearing on the bridge of his nose and the mirth dancing in his tone. “Sorry, sorry! This is all just so exciting! What are we going to do now? Everything smells so good! Oh, what’s all that––”
When the sultan seemed set on some shady foreign merchants selling a variety of unlabeled goods, you grabbed the back of his collar, preventing him from dashing across the busy streets and being run over by carts hauling goods or being scammed for all the cash he had, or worse. “Hold on. When was the last time you actually went out? Like, as a normal person.”
“Oh, the last time was… the beginning of never, actually. This is my first time!” The sultan beamed.
Kalim was a merchant’s dream, like a sitting duck susceptible to astronomical prices and greedy exchanges. But more like a golden goose instead of a sitting duck. For now, the plan was to safeguard him. He already owed you for saving his life when calling out that assassin with the poison, but there had to be a definite connection. The sultan would be your plan B, should all else fail when attempting to acquire the lamp with the vizier Jamil. If Jamil were to go down, you would betray him in a heartbeat, and turn to Kalim. However, in order for Kalim to truly believe you, the trust had to be as solid as the gold that filled his palace.
“Of course it is. I should’ve guessed.” Resisting the urge to just drop him off at the gates and enjoy your freedom, you opted that the safest options would just be the food stalls and he would be entertained by all the happenings in the market.
And you had been right, but what you didn’t take into account was how talkative he might be. Even as he happily munched away on street food sold at various stalls and carts. “You know, it makes me sad that I can’t go out like this. This is the first time I can stand in the middle of the city, without people crowding and staring. People just walk past me as if I’m nothing–– do you know how crazy that is?”
He was sultan, and a prince before that, so he must’ve been accustomed to everyone bowing to him as he passed. All eyes would be on him, but here? Not a single person gave a passing glance.
Taking a bite of the skewed spiced meat and grilled vegetables you bought for yourself, you shrugged at his words before finally adding in your own two cents. “If you take away your title, you’re just a guy.”
“Just a guy…” He murmured quietly, like he never really considered the fact that without his name and his family’s wealth, he was practically a nobody. Taking a slow and concentrated bite of his own skewer, he allowed the taste to settle before looking down at it with a sense of wonder. “This is delicious! I’ve never had the privilege of just eating food without a taste tester. I might have to bring the man who made this back to the palace with me.”
“Don’t blow your own cover.”
“I won’t, I won’t! It’s just…” Kalim appeared to look down thoughtfully, taking another bite. As a sultan, he was probably so pampered and protected that he never once tasted street food or walked on a dirt road before. “Today, you’ve done something truly special for me, my friend. You gave me something worth more than gold or gems, you gave me a once in a lifetime experience! These days it’s hard to trust anyone around me.”
Pausing mid bite, you raised an eyebrow and listened attentively. Possible intel? This could be useful, good information to store in the back of your mind for a later time to utilize when it was most advantageous.
“All the servants are loyal for the most part, but that’s because there’s rules and payment involved. Sometimes, there’s one or two among them that have tried to harm me and my family.” He continued softly, almost seriously. This wasn’t like his usual cheery demeanor and loud tone. Right now his gaze was eerily calm and he spoke quietly, just loud enough so you could hear as you stood beside him. “For a while, I was okay with it. That’s how I grew up, it was my normal. But then I got older, my parents passed on, I got married for a little while but that didn’t last. Even some of my siblings, who I thought I could trust, turned against me just to get to the throne. It seems like everyone I love is either taken away from me or turns against me.”
In that moment, he turned to face you, gazing at you with those big red eyes.
Softly, he pleaded, “Promise me you won’t be like that? Taken away from me or turned against me–– I don’t think I could bear it. I can’t believe I never spoke to you properly sooner than I did! We could’ve been best friends by now!” His soft hands clutched yours, as he still awkwardly held the skewer between his thumb and pointer finger.
You began freaking out a bit when his hands moved up to your face, squishing your cheeks between his palms as he brought your face closer to his
“I mean, you make me so happy I could just kiss you! It wouldn’t be hard.”
There was no way you just accidentally snagged a sultan. How? You of all people! With the rotten personality and a heart so shriveled and three sizes too small that it could rival the Grinch’s own beating core. Oh this made things too easy. Kalim was now the ace hidden up your sleeve. If worse came to worse and the original plan had to be abandoned, well, certainly playing the role of the sultan’s favorite little lover wasn’t too bad. At least until you could obtain the lamp.
Certainly while the sultan was oblivious, he wasn’t dumb. However, he was most likely no expert when it came to love, as it appeared he wasn’t the most skilled at basic interactions from his cushy palace life. It couldn’t be that hard to keep him seduced, could it? Surely if he miraculously felt attracted to you, it was possible to keep him hooked for a while, until you had the wishes you desired.
All it took was a single kiss on his forehead, to see those ruby red eyes dazzle so brightly in the sunlight. Although his lower face was concealed by the fabric around his head, he was bound to be grinning ear-to-ear like an idiot. And wrapped around your pinky to have at your disposal. “Happy?”
Eagerly he nodded, taking a deep breath to hold so he wouldn’t squeal with joy. What a sucker. “So so happy, my dove!”
“My dove? Huh…” At the little nickname, you sigh and shrug, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes so as to not appear too cold toward his advances and words. “Then let’s go back now before they go looking for you. Oh, look over there, what a beautiful bracelet…” You casually remark, gesturing toward a stand across the road that sold a variety of jewelry. If you had to kiss up to a man, might as well make it all worth it by causing his pockets to hurt. But what was a bit of gold and jewelry to his pockets that ran so deep?
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
“What is that…?” The vizier demanded, glaring at you. When he returned, he was in a foul mood. It must’ve been because the story was progressing and that thief got trapped in the Cave of Wonders with the lamp, but he said nothing about it other than it’s gone. However, even when he was outraged by his recent failure, he still noticed the golden bands wrapped around your arms.
Seeing where his gaze was directed, you lifted your arm and showed off the golden bands speckled with white diamonds and decorated with swirls within the metal itself. “Oh, this? You like? The sultan gifted them to me.” You grinned, noticing his frown deepening. Using the opportunity, you flaunted. “I think that chump has taken a liking to me ever since I saved his skin.”
"So I heard of your heroic deed." If the vizier had laser vision, he’d be searing your bracelet into a puddle of molten metal liquid by how hard he was glaring. “Don’t lose sight of what we’re after. In the end, the lamp can provide enough wealth to put that tiny gaudy thing to shame.”
At his words dissing the rather expensive and delicately crafted accessory, your eyes widened as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Ohhhh, I see… You’re jealous! Ha! You’re mad! Stay mad!”
A scowl etched his way onto his features as he hissed, “You think I’m jealous…?!” Pausing, he collected himself. Or at least, he tried to. But it was probably difficult to do so with the reminder in the back of his mind that his victory was within his grasp, only to be fumbled. Taking a deep breath, he seethed, “No, I am not jealous. In fact, you’re doing me a favor by distracting that airhead and also that bratty prince in the process. So, continue. I encourage you, but remember who your efforts are for. Now, there has to be another way to find another person worthy to go into that cave…”
Scoffing, you readjusted the bracelet over your arm. Such a shiny thing that would’ve cost a small fortune back home. “Don’t worry, even though you’re a despicable serpent, you’re still my favorite.” Whether that was true or not, it was best to stay in his good graces. “I heard what happened from the few guards you took with you… it’ll be fine. The lamp is gotta still be there under all that sand.”
Ignoring your words, he still paused when he heard them, but he didn’t acknowledge them in the slightest. In fact, he only gave a command without so much as a glance in your direction. “Go get me my tome from that shelf.”
Offering a smile without the pretentiousness, you went over to the shelf and picked the heavy tome he required. Almost everyday he seemed to read from this thing. “Okay, master, I’ll get you the dark wizard daily so you can enchant yourself some bitches.”
Bringing his fingers to his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as if in annoyance. For a moment you thought he might snap, but instead he only muttered, “I already have one that talks day in and day out, endlessly bothering me to no end. I do not need another one of you.”
“Haha–– Wait, what?”
That cold expression didn’t change, until his eyes wandered down to your arm. And as he continued speaking slowly, he grabbed your wrist within his hand. He removed the golden bracelets Kalim had bought for you in the market. Those golden bands were eventually in his hands. At their brilliant shine, he scowled and tossed them aside. On your arms, he placed silver ones. Silver bands that curled around your arms like snakes, to replace the ones the sultan gifted you.
“What I mean is…” Using his golden staff, he extended it outward, using the cobra head on it like a hook to turn your head towards where he was seated, directing your gaze to his eyes. Those gray eyes were hypnotizing, this was what it must’ve felt like when Kalim was met face-to-face with the cobra head on his vizier’s staff. However, there was no magic being used at the moment. “You’re mine, not Kalim’s. Do you understand?”
You frown as he switches them, closely examining the shine of your new bracelet. “Gold is shinier than silver…”
He sighed, irked. “Then I’ll just make sure to take a gem, as big as your greed, from the treasury and have it engraved into one heavy necklace. Now––” Seeing you grin in content at his promise for another shiny treasure, he continued from where he left off. “You are mine. My vassal. Say it back to me. Yours.”
Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, clearly not in the mood for too many jokes or teasing. And for once, you were too stunned for words to blurt out anything. Besides, it wasn’t like you could when he was so close and staring at you so intensely.
“You… Yours?” You parrot awkwardly, wincing at the way it came out of your mouth. However, the young man still keeping you close with his staff seemed content with your response.
Those gray eyes remained focused on you. His eyes were thin and sharp, making it look like he wore eyeliner. As cruel and cold as he could be behind that calm and polite facade, there was a mysterious charm to him. It was as enticing as it was dangerous, and yet that was how you liked most things. Curse him for that.
It’s strange. You thought he would be more enraged about the lamp and the incident at the Cave of Wonders. However, he seemed almost calm as he gazed at you. And without his fancy garbs composed of so many layers that pooled around him, he didn’t look so intimidating. The black sleeveless shirt he wore was loose but intricately decorated, and his pants looked like flowing silk. There wasn’t even that headpiece over his hair, which made him look… normal. If that were even possible. It made you forget the fact that he was a villainous vizier, meant to eventually go mad with power and accidentally curse himself to an eternity of solitude and servitude when he finally wished to become an all-power genie. Maybe if you could steer him down that path, you could have him for yourself as a second wish-granter...
“Mine.” He confirmed, giving you a hard stare as he lowered his staff. With a hand, he guided your fingers to his long dark tresses. Most of it was loose, but some strands were in thin braids that extended all the way up to his scalp. When you delicately pinched one of the braids between your fingers, the braids tied so tightly made them look like little scales. Slowly you unravel them for him, he didn’t protest. In fact, he appeared almost relaxed. “I’ve let him take away many things from me. Too many things. And I’m not about to let him snatch you away too.”
“Eh, he’s annoying. Silly, but annoying. You on the other hand… my boss who’s a tall, dark, and sinister ugly man.”
His eyes watched your every movement, looking on idly as your fingers slowly untwined his braids. So casually you were touching a man who had committed unspeakable crimes, most of which you could not even begin the picture. What else had he done to defend the sultan when it was his duty? What had he done to climb the ranks and try to climb even higher to the most dangerous heights? How many souls had he sacrificed to the Cave of Wonders? How many assassins did he personally fend off? How did he punish and silence those that dare try to reveal his secrets and plans working behind the scenes without the royal family or others taking notice?
Jamil crossed his arms, indifferent to your insult. His gaze never once left your figure as he replied smoothly. “You’re a terrible liar… If I was as ugly as you claimed, you wouldn’t be staring at me like that or touching me. Now, sit down.” He was close–– too close when he added the next words in a way that left you puzzled as to what exactly he could’ve meant. “You’ll be rewarded for recognizing my greatness, before anyone else did. But for now.” He handed you a scroll. "Read, find something useful of the lamp or the cave."
Maybe the most unnerving thing about Jamil, was his mysterious allure. The sultan you knew was cheery and laidback, the prince was spirited and independent, and the thief you would learn about in due time. But the vizier? It seemed impossible to pinpoint anything to him. One moment he was stoic and silent, the next he could be taking your banter and come up with a witty reply, and the very next second he was enraged and permanently extinguishing a life. Yet he wasn’t wildly violent nor too charming that it felt like a mask. And yet, you couldn’t distinguish was was genuine emotion from him or just acts with different intentions behind them. And that was the most concerning part about the vizier–– did he truly like you or was this some elaborate facade?
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
The following day you were awoken by thumping. Staying up late to assist the vizier search through old scrolls and books, wasn’t the brightest idea. The night was a bit of a blur, as you had stayed up so late researching with him. It was a blur of printed text, bickerings and snide remarks, fingers running through hair, and intense gazes, among other things. As you awoke later in the morning to an uproar from outside and a shaking of the ground like an earthquake. Trumpets and bells served as your alarm, as you fell out of the desk you had slumped over last night, a blanket over your shoulder that you hadn’t placed.
Outside was quite a parade that could put all festivals to shame. White stallions carrying men with banners, camels carrying drummers whose sounds vibrated in the air, bands marching in the most vibrant uniforms, dancers in fine purples like pristine peacocks. It was like a traveling circus, zoo, and party all in one. And in your dazed state, the realization arrived suddenly––
“That’s the thief––!”
Instantly you ran to your own room, or rather, the old vassal’s room, to wash up and change as quickly as humanly possible. You knew this would happen eventually, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. The thief, now a princess, was here! Here, arriving with a genie masquerading as their most faithful trusted servant. The lamp, she had the lamp with her!
Once changed, you stepped back into the vizier’s tower. There was no one there, he even cleaned up after his research session, leaving no evidence behind of his plot with the Cave of Wonders. No book, scroll, or even a page was left. Damn, he was good. In your mind there’s no doubt he’s cleaned up after other plots and murders. What a slippery cretin.
Quickly departing from the tower, you made your way through the grand halls, past the guards and servants. Although most were entranced by the grand spectacle that princess, or rather a crook, managed to display through the streets of the city. To think all that splendor and so much more was just within reach. But just because the finish line was in sight, did not mean that it was safe. There were more ways to die here than the number of tales Scheherazade had to tell. While having the favor of the sultan and vizier was certainly both an ego boost and a benefit, it didn’t make you invincible. That could only truly happen when you finally had the lamp in hand.
As soon as you turned a corner, you heard laughter. Immediately, you got the wind knocked out of you and went flying. Literally. You went tumbling backwards, some type of fabric draping over your face and the weight of a body crashing into yours as you collapsed on your back in an awkward angle. You were milliseconds away from screaming bloody murder and ready to tear into whoever could be blamed, but you shut your mouth and clenched your teeth shut when you heard the familiar giggling.
The cloth, whatever it was that had been over your head and obscuring your vision, was removed. However, it wasn’t removed by a person, it moved on its own. That’s when you realized it wasn’t a piece of cloth, it was a piece of fabric, woven wool to be more specific. The wool that composed the magic flying carpet from the story. It moved like a sentient being as you blinked at it in shock, and it extended one of its tasseled yellow ends to dust you off.
“How in the hell…?”
“My dove! I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” He was gasping a bit from laughing so much on that magic carpet joy ride he must’ve just been on, the adrenaline still pumping through his system from flying within the palace’s high-ceiling rooms.
Yes, you simple-minded idiot, you hit me like a train at full speed! Is what you would’ve said if you could, but it wouldn’t do to say that aloud when others might hear and get the wrong impression. It would attract too much attention if someone was blatantly disrespectful to the sultan. “No, I’m fine––” Your backside would be aching for a whole day. God, if only there wasn't a need for formalities, you would–– “And thank you… carpet.” The thanks came out awkwardly, as you were unused to thanking carpets but it seemed like a rather harmless and curious thing.
“This contraption that the princess has brought is wonderful! You should try it!”
The sultan gestured to the carpet. For such a priceless magical item that was stuck in a cave for who knew how long, it was in shockingly good condition. It had vibrant blues, and yellow patterns and symbols etched onto its surface. Yeah, you were definitely gonna keep it once you were in charge.
“You know, I really think that my cousin Jaseer will love her! You have to meet her! And well…” He awkwardly scratched his cheek, looking somewhat sheepish as he mustered up the courage to speak the next words. His cheeks grew warm when he averted his gaze. Yet after a moment, his eyes shifted back to you. Such big innocent eyes, like the rarest of rubies. Usually you would try to admire the shine in such gems, but it was impossible to not take note of the obvious adoration within his gaze. “I was thinking, maybe you would like to join me later? We’ll be holding a banquet tonight, a party to celebrate our guests. But also, I wanted to spend time with you. What do you think? Is that alright?”
For a moment you thought about it, slightly distracted when the carpet’s tassels were brushing against your arm and it appeared to stand so close. Not that you blamed the thing. If you were trapped in the Cave of Wonders like it was for so long, you would’ve gone insane. Maybe the thing just craved company or attention. Maybe it craved freedom.
Kalim was providing the perfect excuse. You were the distraction, while Jamil could do whatever nefarious deeds he needed to complete in order for the plot to progress. However, it was already past the tipping point. Last night within those books, there was mention of the magic carpet within the Cave of Wonders. So chances are, the vizier already knows the princess is a fraud.
“Hm, sure. Why not?”
“Yes! Yes!” Quickly, he took your hands, clutching them tight. His energy was contagious apparently, because the carpet who had calmed down from the flight, received this burst of energy and was spinning around you too with great speed. “You won’t regret this! We’re going to have so much fun. And don’t worry about being overwhelmed by everyone, I know it can be a lot. So I’ll have an area set up just for us, away from the party guests, okay? That way, when we’re together and want to be alone, we can retreat there. Alright?”
Somehow with that invitation, while Jaseer and the princess whose name you’ve yet to learn, let alone care for, were likely learning about each other during the festivities and going off on their own romantic flight on the magic carpet, you were keeping the sultan distracted as the vizier had other matters to handle. Even when you were certainly not elegant or charming in even the slightest sense, appealing to the bubbly young man was surprisingly easy. Perhaps it was because he already was attracted to whatever he saw within you.
Forced to entertain his request for a dance when the music began, he pulled you back behind a curtain to avoid people seeing, much to your great relief. He had a great big smile as he spoke about various things from the happenings of his kingdom to his own personal matters.
“Do you care if I was married?” He asked a bit nervously, looking unsure if he should have even mentioned that to you. As far as you knew, the sultan was previously married, but nothing really came of the union. For whatever reason, he was single now with no children and his wife was no longer in the picture. Some creeping suspicion conjured up the possibility that Jamil had something to do with that.
“I do not care.” You answered honestly. Why was he even asking that like how a boy would shyly ask a girl he liked if they mind the fact that he dated somebody before? Talk about zero charm. Was the only reason he got married because of his status? Most likely. Even if he was filthy rich and powerful, maybe even elegant looking in a way, he wasn’t exactly marriage material. “Tell me anyway. Details. I want details.”
Surprised, he blinked at you. “Me? You wanna know about that? Well, it’s not very interesting… I would say it’s a long story, but it’s really not.” He chuckled a bit dryly, absentmindedly fiddling with the ends of the curtains where they had privacy on a balcony with a wonderful view of the port where the city met the waters. “I was young, an eighteen-year-old prince. Accidents happened to most of my siblings that were my age, so I was next in line. There’s a law that states that those next in line for the throne have to be married by a certain age. My father picked her when I couldn't decide. She was a princess from the north where apparently it’s all cold and snowy. A year or so after the wedding, my father and mother passed in an accident. Then, later on, she was gone too.”
These sort of details were never mentioned in any rendition of the story that you remembered. At least, none that you recalled. However, it had been a while since you read them, so it could just be your memory. And the fact that in those takes, the sultan was an old man. “Do you ever miss her?”
“Hm… sometimes. I thought I would miss her more, I feel like I should miss her a lot, but… I don’t.” He admitted quietly, lounging on his stomach so his arms were folded in front of him and his cheek was resting on his arm. “Over the years, I feel like I’ve lost track of all the accidents. My brother married into the royal family of a neighboring nation and urged them to wage war on our home, my sister attempted to bribe bodyguards to do her dirty work, aunts and uncles sent assassins.”
“Drama.” You hummed as you lay across from him, laying flat on your back instead of your stomach.
At your casual remark he almost laughed. Maybe that was his way of processing trauma, through humor and positivity. All this betrayal and hurt was certainly enough to drive someone mad. Maybe he wasn’t completely right in the head. “Okay, this is getting depressing, so I’ll stop. But you see why I like you? Why I trust you with my life? You’re so… so… real. It doesn’t feel like you sugarcoat things, and you’re so blunt! No one ever talks to me like that. You talk to me as if I’m just a guy, and nothing else.”
He remembered what you said that time in the market. “You are just a guy.” You repeat. And that’s all he would be. If you couldn’t get the lamp, and Jamil got his greedy hands around it first, well maybe it was worth wishing for the vizier to spare the poor sultan. Besides, he was likable. Annoying, but entertaining. “And you really shouldn’t.” Trust. He shouldn’t trust you.
“But I do!” He pushed himself up, until his head was right above yours. Those ruby red eyes gazing right down at you, his face so close to yours that his nose brushed against yours. Gold around his ears dangled, making small rings like wind chimes. Kalim peered at you so immensely, so focused, but it was a gentle tender gaze as he lowered his face closer to yours. “I trust you, so, so much…”
It only took a few moments for things to get out of hand. Oh, it was so easy, too easy. You were no tempest, but Kalim made it simple. Like toying with a doll. So after several minutes in, you hear the familiar voice of the vizier calling you, you immediately pull away and sit up. Panic was plastered over your face at the thought of being seen by that envious viper. When Kalim sat up with you, he looked much more dazed, like a lovestruck fool. To which you immediately pushed him down and hissed. “Shit! What’s he going to say if he finds me here with the sultan?”
Part of his white hair was messy, as the cloth he usually wore around his head fell off sometime ago. His short strands stuck out at some angles, and he didn’t bother recollecting his composure as he was still dizzy. “Lucky sultan?”
When he gave you a stupid grin, you pushed him aside. Luckily the spot was relatively hidden by curtains, pillows, and plush blankets and carpets. “Shut up…! Just, stay here.”
Quickly you smoothed down your appearance before exiting the area, entering the halls to search for the vizier that had called you. Apparently, the time to act was here. Mere moments ago, he had instructed his loyalest soldiers under his command to bring in the princess they had cornered.
So by the time you arrived at the vizier’s tower, there in the open window strapped to a chair atop an elevated surface of a table was the princess. Beautiful, sure. Especially when she wore such flashy garbs of pure white and purple. Cleverly she had wrapped a cloth around her head like a shayla, hiding her hair which could’ve been a key feature used to identify her, besides her face of course which she couldn’t exactly conceal under these circumstances. Her feet and wrists were bound tightly with rope, and if her chair tipped backwards she would meet a cold end in the salty waters of the sea right below.
There was a distinct hint of nervousness in her tone as she attempted to persuade the two guards that this had been a misunderstanding, that they must’ve had no idea who she was, you watched the pair of soldiers double-check the security of the ropes bounding her. While in walked the vizier. It seemed like he was busy while you were taking a… break. Now, if the princess was here, where was that cursed lamp? Your eyes scanned her figure, searching for pockets she might’ve had.
“We know who you are, Aliyyah.” The vizier spoke, sounding way too casual at the moment as he walked over to his tome situated on his desk. So that was the thief’s true name.
“Aliyyah…? I don’t know who that is–– I’m Princess Alya!”
Jamil interrupted her, as she looked increasingly anxious. “A princess from a kingdom which does not exist. And who arrived on a magic carpet told to only be obtainable from the Cave of Wonders.”
Carpet. That’s right. The carpet and the monkey the thief owned were still somewhere within the palace. There couldn’t be any loose-ends. Not when the lamp’s location was still unknown. It could be anywhere within the palace.
Silently stepping over to the door where two more guards were situated to look-out, you allowed the vizier and thief to continue their stand-off while you opened the door slightly to whisper to one of the additional guards. “Go to our guest’s quarters. There, you should find our visitor’s pet and that magical carpet. Do not let them leave the quarters. And do not go alone, bring multiple other soldiers if you have to, but this is to remain discreet. I don’t care what you do to the monkey, but I better not see so much as a loose piece of string on that carpet. Capeesh?”
Being the vizier’s vassal had its benefits. As they usually only ever responded to the vizier himself, but since you were known to be the wise young man’s trusted advisor, your words carried weight among the staff wielding weapons and wearing armor. So obediently, the soldier nodded and immediately went off to see that the task was done. Afterwhich, you closed the heavy wooden door shut to prevent any sound from escaping, and returned your attention back to the vizier and the thief.
“I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome.” His tone was no longer so casual. There was an icy coldness to it as he stalked closer, quickly growing tired of her adamant denial. “If I throw you off of that balcony, and you are who you say you are, you will die a watery death.”
If Jamil pushed one of his own guards into a well for even considering the action of refusing orders, well, pushing a thief turned princess off several floors into deep waters was something he wouldn’t hesitate doing. So you watched carefully as the severity of the situation was settling on the princess, as she struggled in her bonds and her seat. However, there was no lie or tricks that could get her out of this one.
“And if you survive, it can only be because of the lamp. Now…”
Waving off the pair of soldiers, they left, leaving only the thief, the vizier, and yourself. As the dark-haired sorcerer did the familiar movement of lifting the end of his spear so it was directly against her collarbone, the princess gulped and an ominous look came over the vizier’s face. When the princess glanced at you, you only grinned and wiggled your fingers like waving goodbye. However, when she turned to face you, that’s when your sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something sparkly in the cloth around her hair, right behind her neck. Slowly you walked closer.
“Where is the lamp?” Jamil demanded.
“Listen,” The young woman pleaded. She was young, about your age. And surely you knew that she would die a watery death, because now you knew where the lamp was. Whatever name she went by, or whoever she was, Princess Alya of a faraway nation or the thief Aliyyah, it wouldn’t matter. “I swear to you,” Her voice wavered with uncertainty. “I am––”
You bumped the tip of his staff, with enough pressure to tip her off the end just as you leaned forward to reach the cloth around her skull. Your grip was on the fabric, not her. So she went tumbling down multiple floors, plunging into dark brine. Her scream was cut off by the sound of a splash and the breaking of wood. The chair must’ve broken upon impact, but she went sinking down and down. The only thing preventing you from falling as well, was the curved cobra head Jamil had used like a hook around your back to secure you from falling. And in your hands, wrapped in the silk white cloth, lay what would’ve been her salvation, what was your salvation–– the lamp.
“This is convenient. Now it’s time for you to answer the same question I asked her.”
“What? Aren’t you going to pull me to safety?” You stared at him wide-eyed, as he practically dangled you above your doom. Yes, the lamp was in hand, but you couldn’t rub it to summon the genie. Not when your fingers were gripping it tightly so it wouldn’t fall into the waters below and risk hitting the jagged rocks, while your other hand gripped the golden staff to avoid falling, your toes just barely on the edge. Even the slightest wrong move, would send you plummeting to those sharp stones and salty waters so far below. Could you survive that fall? Maybe, if you could avoid the rocks. Which seemed like a slim chance.
Ignoring your growing fear, he continued calmly, keeping a steady grip on his staff. A small tremble could unbalance you and make you fall. Or, he could be so cruel as to let you drop. But, you had the lamp, which might’ve been the only reason he held on. “I know who you are, criminal.”
Down below, there was no sign of the thief emerging. The only thing that came up to the surface of the waves was a purple sash from her garbs. Something about his words was enough to tell you that he didn’t mean the role you were playing, he meant you. You who were arrested and sent here as punishment, as your own personal hell, to die for your crimes. And here you were, just as those bastard judges wanted, on the very brink of death. Literally. “You know nothing about me––”
“I know everything about you. I know your crimes, your anger, your burning hatred for those who have wronged you. I know.” Gray eyes narrowed at you, but his hold was unwavering. You couldn’t save yourself, not in this position. You were at his mercy. Even when your heart felt like it was beating rapidly, and you were thinking a mile a minute of possible ways to get out of this situation only for each idea to end in failure. You heard his words he spoke bitterly, like they had a deeper meaning. But then he added, “I know you hide a knife in your shawl, a second in your pillowcase, and a third under your mattress because you never trusted me completely. It pains me to see you reduced to this.”
No, he knew nothing about you. The real you, even if he thought he did. He could never imagine what it was like, the things you had done. Even if he somehow discovered the truth, that you were not his trusted vessel but acted like them, you weren't them. “You–– You don’t know me!”
“A criminal from another world, sent into what was like a story. You thought you could trick me and everyone else. But you underestimate me. As soon as you opened your big mouth, I knew you were a fraud. What did you call me? A two-faced snake? Ironic.”
You had called him that, while playing a role to trick him this entire time. Just as the protagonist had tried, and look where she ended up because of that. Dead. Drowned by water and salt, with a body that would either become fish food or wash ashore as an unrecognizable corpse. How did he know? There was no possible way to know! You told no one! Trusted no one!
The air was a bitter cold. Moonlight shone on his face, letting you see the royal vizier’s cunning features and how he was grinning. He was grinning at your predicament, as he held your fate in his hands. Your arm was starting to feel numb from holding on for so long, but you couldn’t let go. There was no way you would let go of the lamp or of yourself, after everything and how far you got. When glory and sweet revenge on everyone was literally in the palm of your hand.
“But you leave yourself unguarded when you sleep.” That was the answer, you realized with horror. That was how he knew way more than he should! Jamil invaded your very mind, controlling it with this very cursed staff he held you from. “They wronged you, those above you. Underestimate you. We’re more alike than you would like to verbally admit.”
“Jamil, you––! Vile liar, son of a––”
“That’s sorcerer to you.” He corrected you.
That’s right–– in the story once the vizier gets a brief moment of victory, he uses his wishes to place himself atop the social hierarchy of power. First sultan, then a sorcerer, then a genie. Above a sultan: a sorcerer. But why was he skipping the sultan stage?
The vizier turned serious, stretching out his hand that did not hold the staff. He held out the palm of his thin hand, offering a twisted grin that made your stomach weave into knots. Speaking firmly, he offered a once in a lifetime deal. And it was either accept his deal, or die for the price of what was committed. “I told you, you are mine. I meant that. I plan to be something great, much greater than that simpleton. So, once I become the most powerful man in the world, you may take the title of sultan if it’s what you wish. All you have to do is hand me the lamp, my Treasured Vassal.”
#twst#twisted wonderland#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#kalim al asim#twst kalim#yandere kalim al asim#jamil viper#twst jamil#yandere jamil viper#Scarabia#damnation twst au
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
|| Payback!♡︎
Part two to this post!
|| pairing; Isagi Yoichi x GN! Reader
|| summary; after Isagi’s match against the U-20, social media had been blowing up with the possibility of Isagi having a partner. Seeing this, Isagi meets up with you to talk it out…
|| cw; FLUFF! fluff fluff fluff! Absolutely tooth-rotting! No warnings aside from some second hand embarrassment lol!
|| wc; 1.5k
|| note; since you guys liked the last one so much, here!! This is technically a part two, but can be read as a standalone fic. Enjoy <3
The distorted audio of a crowd roaring was played from your phone's speakers over and over again as your eyes stayed glued to the bright screen.
It was midnight. You couldn't sleep—not after what happened earlier in the day. It was still fresh in your mind…
…and the numerous recordings online certainly didn’t help.
First, it was only one that popped up on your feed, when your face still felt hot and you were still running your fingers along your lips in disbelief. Then you saw a close up video of Isagi running up to you in the stands and capturing your lips in his, after he mutters something inaudible.
“I came back to you, [Name],” the words he said to you before pecking your lips gently—a complete 180 from his persona on the field. It was almost unbelievable, how gentle he was despite scoring the winning goal against Japan's U-20, he didn’t let his excitement get the best of him. Or maybe he did—but did you really mind?
The second video came up just after you got home, and you almost dropped your keys while fumbling to unlock the door, just because of how flustered it made you that people actually saw that.
Then the third video came up. And the fourth. And the fifth. And the—holy shit, why was it still going!? It was well past sundown, you could feel your eyelids drooping after the excitement-filled day you’d just had, and yet, your heart was still hammering in your chest.
But despite the excitement, you also felt a familiar pit settle in the bottom of your stomach. You still hadn’t heard from Isagi, not after he was pried away from you in order to participate in an interview—
“Who was that, Isagi-kun?” The reporter asked, a girlish grin on her face as she giggled out her question. The camera panned to your general direction in the crowd, where you were still sat in silent disbelief.
“My partner,” Isagi replied, a goofy grin tugging at his lips—the ones he’d just kissed you with. His face was still flushed, and his breathing was still ragged, and he was sure his friends would give him hell for this later on—but right now? He didn’t care. He was on cloud nine.
“Partner?” She inquired, urging Isagi to continue. You couldn’t see her face, since the camera was trained on Isagi, but you could’ve sworn she’d have an eyebrow raised.
“I love them more than anything,” Isagi puffed out his chest, looking awfully proud, despite the fact that the two of you technically weren’t dating yet. But how could he not? He was so caught up in the moment he didn’t even think to ask you first…
—said interview was already saved in your camera roll, and you’d probably cherish it for the rest of your life.
A notification made your phone vibrate in your hand, and you only saw Isagi’s contact name for a split second before immediately opening it.
‘Can we meet up?’ Read a message from Isagi, one that somehow made your stomach drop and heart pound at the same time. You were quick to reply.
‘Of course. Right now?’
‘Sure. Park?’
That was all it took to send you racing out the door, almost tripping as you struggled to slip your shoes on.
The crisp, cool night air was like a slap to the face when you finally made it outside. You decided to just ignore it, instead focusing on speed-walking to the nearby park down the road—the one you and Isagi used to spend hours playing at when you were kids. It seemed awfully fitting.
Your breath fanned out in front of you, and the cold nipped at your exposed skin, but you still felt strangely warm. And very nervous, but still warm.
You couldn't afford to let your thoughts consume you, though you still had your fair share of ‘what ifs’ swimming around your mind. You wouldn't let yourself get freaked out before you saw Isagi.
The park was a small one–but it felt like home. A familiar, less intimidating warmth spread throughout your chest as soon as you stepped foot on the dirt ground.
“[Name]!!”
You turned around, a little startled at the sudden voice calling out to you. It reminded you a little of the first time you met, only this time a ball wasn't being flung at your face.
“Yoichi,” you greeted warmly, watching as the raven-haired male stopped to rest, panting slightly. “Did you run the whole way here?”
“Yeah,” he swallowed, sweat trickling down his forehead. “I didn't want you to wait.”
You opened your mouth to say something about him not having to worry, but suddenly, he clasped his hands in front of him, refusing to look you in the eye.
“I am so sorry! Please forgive me, [Name]!” He apologised, looking oh-so-ashamed despite being the Yoichi Isagi who somehow managed to capture the hearts of many during a single game. Including yours.
“...about what?” You questioned, wracking your brain for something he could possibly have to apologise for. You only turned up with blanks.
“Wh- I kissed you in front of a live audience! I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask for consent, or, or–” he stammered, holding his head in his hands. Ah. This was the Isagi you knew.
“Oh, that?” You replied flippantly, watching as his expression contorted under the little light the street lights provided. Still, despite the fact that you could barely see him, you thought he looked remarkably pretty. “I didn’t mind. Not one bit.”
You could’ve sworn you could see the faintest blush on his face as he turned away from you. With a tilt of the head, you asked:
“Sleepover?”
—
“Yeah, well, I know you like My Neighbour Totoro so why not try Spirited Away too? They have the same vibes. Kind of,” you muttered, fiddling with the tv remote as Isagi sprawled out on your bed next to you.
“…are you sure you even want to watch a movie?” He spoke up, shuffling a little in your peripheral vision. For a moment, you felt too nervous to look at him.
“What else is there to do?”
“Talk.”
The certainty in his voice made you press your lips into a thin line. You knew he’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to do—so if you told him you didn’t want to talk, you were sure he’d drop it.
But in all honesty, you really did want to talk with him. You wanted to have all kinds of conversations—happy, sad, nostalgic, exciting, dull—all until the end of your life.
It wasn’t too early to start now, was it?
“Okay,” you agreed, setting the tv remote down and turning to look at him. “About what?”
Isagi smiled at you—a gentle, warm smile that brought attention to the shine in his eyes he only seemed to have around you. And gosh, you thought, how didn’t you notice sooner?
“Us. Are we…a thing?” He pried, leaning forward a little bit, and you managed to catch the faintest glimpse of hope swirling around in those pretty blue eyes of his. How you hadn’t figured out you loved him sooner, you had no idea.
“Do you want to be?” You replied, leaning forward as well. Your noses were almost touching, and you found yourself smiling at the stupidly flustered look on his face.
The two of you stayed silent, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. You could see that Isagi was mulling it over, and by the steadily growing flush on his face, he liked what he was imagining.
You liked it, too. The idea of being with him. Isagi had always been exceptionally kind and passionate, and he always pushed you to do the things you’d always wanted to do. To be around someone like that your whole life? You could only imagine how wonderful it would be.
“Yes,” Isagi blurted out, looking just as surprised as you did as you were brought out of your daydream. You smiled at him, ignoring how warm your face felt.
“Yeah, yeah, I—I’ve loved you since we were kids. So…it’d really, really make me really happy if, um…” he stammered, and suddenly, he didn’t seem as intimidating as his opponents on the field made him out to be.
“Please let me be your boyfriend.”
Was it just you, or was it hot in here? Seriously, you had never felt so light. And warm. Were you sweating? You could’ve sworn you were sweating. But in the moment, Isagi just looked at you hopefully. You knew exactly what you wanted to say since the moment he first kissed you.
“Of course,” you answered, and after a few seconds of contemplation, placed a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose.
Isagi blinked, momentarily forgetting his initial joy at your words. “What was that?”
You only smiled. “Payback.”
|| note; ngl I did NOT know what to write for this. I also don't know how to write kiss scenes so this is all you guys are getting...
|| disclaimer; please don't repost, copy or translate my work without credit.
#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock#fanfic#x reader#blue lock x reader#lollie-bllk🫐#isagi x reader#isagi yoichi#yoichi isagi#bllk isagi#isagi x you#lollie fluff🫐
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
Interesting Alastor Insights
I think I may have figured out what was up Alastor’s ass in Dead Beat Dad. On one hand it may be a deeper issue that I am missing some context for, but I actually think it’s a little simpler then we think.
Even before Lucifer arrived, Alastor was clearly not happy about him coming over, and yes Alastor was 100% full of shit in the dad off song, BUT! Something note worthy is that he was not only being possessive of the Hotel (claiming to be its host and even greeting Lucifer as the master of the house does) but is also weirdly possessive of Charlie
And right down to the “fuck you” to Lucifer’s face it was projecting “get your feet off of my damn coffee table and get outta my house” energy. At first I was wondering what crawled up Alastor’s ass and died, and then Hell’s greatest Dad starts playing and..
“Who’s been faithful as a Nun? Who’s been here since day one?”
And it dawned on me and I was like “Alastor, why are you acting like your being replaced?” And Charlie is just as confused at Alastor’s behavior, like this came out of nowhere. Apparently Alastor was determined to show Lucifer who the Genie of this bottle is. But I didn’t believe it at first, I was like “nah it has to be something else” but then Mimzy gave some VARY interesting insight
When Mimzy first arrived, Alastor has a look that says (oh this is all I need right now) but he still seems happy to see her
Like holy shit, he happily reciprocates the hug, but that’s not to surprising if you know who Mimzy is if you have been fallowing Viv for a while
When she mentioned that he frequented the club (speakeasy)that she preformed in I was like “oh! They are drinking buddies!” Drinking Buddies are someone you generally only know the fun side of because you only hang out together at the bar, but Mimzy highlights a different side to their relationship
“Put on some Jazz, and pour a few fingers of Rye, and he becomes a kitten”
This gives me insight that while they were alive, she wasn’t just his drinking buddy and dance partner, she was his comfort zone. The way she phrased this sentence, made it sound like this was something she used to do for Alastor when they were alive, maybe she was a soothing presence as well as an entertaining one in Alastor’s life. But bar friends can sometimes be pretty high maintenance friends outside the bar, actually I think a lot of us have had something close to a friend like Mimzy in our lives. Apparently she is so bad that even Husk is concerned enough about Alastor to try and talk to him about her
“You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs something. That bitch is trouble, and who knows what demon she fucked with to come running to you this time”
Alastor’s response threw me for a loop
“It’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t worry Husker, who would cross me?”
So Alastor is not immune to having toxic friends? I always assumed he would just drop anyone who became to much trouble, this is an interesting surprise. And on top of that he’s…an enabler!? Huh…that is super interesting to know. Putting a pin in the rest of this interaction for another post because there is a lot to unpack with husk and alastor. Except for the being on a leash thing because it made me realize something.
What if the reason he felt upstaged by Lucifer was not because Lilith told him to keep him away (yeah I am subscribing to the Lilith theory, it’s to much to Be a coincidence) but because he is legitimately afraid of no longer being needed by Charlie? What if, if he isn’t needed by Charlie then he has to go back to wherever he was the last 7 years? Everyone assumes he is free because he acts as such, but is he? Like real question, what if he was a straight up gift to Charlie in a way? Even if it was a “look after my daughter” command I would still call that sending a gift.
And oh man, what if he was suppose to tell the whole truth to Charlie but gave the whole, “I am here for entertainment” speech instead.
And your probably thinking, Charlie wouldn’t tell him to leave. Yeah but does Alastor know that? And he probably thinks Lilith might call him back anyway if he is not needed but just hanging out. But as we have seen, he cant even except his own situation
I will unpack this whole encounter later, but for real I don’t even think he is that mad at husk, he was mad at the reminder that his soul doesn’t belong to him any more. Like look at his face, it’s the most upset we have ever seen him, and it’s so detailed. He looks enraged, but also hurt at the same time. He and Charlie are not friends, yet, but I think he does feel some what safe at the hotel and maybe that’s enough for now
I also think there is some stock in Alastor hating that Lucifer is a bad dad theory, because that contempt was so raw and he did calm the fuck down a little bit during the “more then anything” song
But those are my random insights of Alastor, there were more but this is already to long I just hope it’s coherent
439 notes
·
View notes
Text
I haven't read any STEVE/BUCKY FIC in the last five years or so (Endgame really burned me hard), BUT I can at least offer what I read up to that point! Most of my recs are from around when Captain America: The Winter Soldier first came out (some from before, so there's a few speculation fics) and then I was ready semi-regularly up through Inifinity War, so these may be a bit dated but also the fandom had some ABSOLUTE BANGER fics from that era! I mostly read from about 2014 to 2019 and I can't say how well many of these held up, but I know my tastes haven't changed that much, so there should hopefully be something for anyone interested here! Anyway, I think I'm finally Not As Mad As I Once Was enough to read fic again/celebrate the 10th anniversary of TWS, but also let's be clear. I will forever hold a grudge about what Marvel did with Steve and Bucky post-TWS, that was bullshit from start to finish. ESPECIALLY the finish, oh my god okay so I'm still Actually That Mad and-- NO, OKAY, HAVE SOME FIC RECS BEFORE I MELT DOWN AGAIN.
CAPTAIN AMERICA FIC RECS YOU'LL FIND HERE:
STEVE/BUCKY SHIP FICS
STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION
STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER
STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR
STEVE & BUCKY-CENTRIC FICS (WITH A LITTLE OF EVERYONE ELSE, TOO)
STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER
CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE/BUCKY FIC RECS: ✦ Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Take Me In by victoria_p (musesfool), steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff, reunion fic, 4.1k Bucky finds himself, and then he finds Steve. ✦ you got blood on your hands (and i know it’s mine) by nighimpossible, steve rogers/bucky barnes + natasha romanoff + brief mention of sam wilson/natasha romanoff, suicidal ideation, 2.9k Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming. ✦ take all you can carry by havisham, steve/bucky & cast, 2.4k Bucky Barnes reassembles himself to a reasonable degree and makes romantic overtures to one Steve Rogers. It’s happened before and will happen again. ✦ I’d Know That Face Anywhere by Shay081793, steve/bucky, NSFW, divergent timeline, 2.7k The 107th never got captured. Instead, Bucky Barnes is in the audience when that clown "Captain America" performs to rally the troops, and holy shit, that clown is Steve Rogers. ✦ and we are finally home by springsoldier (ladydaredevil), sam & bucky + steve/bucky + implied sam/natasha + implied bucky/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam's kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Capture the Flag by Shiny_n_new, steve/bucky + sam, dark au, 9.4k wip Bucky has always been willing to do Captain America’s dirty work. This was no different. Sometimes, the day isn’t won by high ideals or bravery or compassion. Sometimes, it’s won by monsters. ✦ Memories are Made of This by eleveninches, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, 13.2k Nearly a year after turning himself into SHIELD and the Avengers, Bucky struggles to find himself in the 21st century. Unfortunately, no one told him about the aliens.
✦ but hey, you’re all right by beardsley, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 5.5k Yes, this is the story where the Winter Soldier is a Russian mail-order bride. Everything goes about as well as you’d expect. ✦ I Left Myself in 1943 (Who the hell is Bucky?) by originalblue, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 21k You have a mission, but your mind is being split in two, and there's a man on the bridge, and you know him. You don't know why, but you know him. ✦ sam deserves better than these assholes by lazulisong, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + other marvel characters, 18k IM SORRY BUT SAM WILSON STARING IN BAFFLED WONDER AT STEVE AND BUCKY AND HOW WEIRD THEY ARE ABOUT EACH OTHER ✦ broken pieces (the rough edges remix) by legete, steve/bucky, 2.1k It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but sometimes Bucky prefers the nightmares that actually happened. ✦ Talk Dirty to Me by PeetaPan, steve/bucky, NSFW, wall sex, 2.5k Steve spends months tracking Bucky down, and when he eventually find him, it’s in a nightclub in Europe. ✦ the body adrift by Febricant, steve/bucky + sam, mildy nsfw, 4.2k Steve has no drawings of Bucky from before. Those are all gone, destroyed in the war or by his own hand; it wouldn’t do for anyone to see how easily the details came from memory, how often Bucky was in his thoughts. ✦ Tony Stark and the Illegal Cross-Country Road Trip from Hell by ActionAddiction, steve/bucky + tony + sam + clint + natasha + fury, 21.8k wip A stir-crazy genius, a secretly sentimental assassin, two soldiers lost in time, and an undercover archer without an identity zigzag across the continental United States in Fury’s stolen van. Or: How Bucky Met Steve (Again)
✦ Didn’t know I was lonely till I saw your face by gunboots, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha + sam + bruce + tony + xavier, 2.9k There are words on paper, actors in movies, and a grand story that fills a whole corner of a museum defined by history. There are words, there are pictures, there are movies, but they’re limited, fragmented. They can’t do justice to the sniper that Captain America trusted, the man that grew into a boy in the streets of Brooklyn with his best friend at his side. The man that could be James Buchanan Barnes leaves a legacy that is barely defined. The man that Steve Rogers says he is. ✦ the inaccuracy of historical wartime dramas by Mici (noharlembeat), steve/bucky + sam + natasha, 3k (or: Steve has feelings, and shouldn’t ever watch television) ✦ The Shape I’m In by radialarch, steve/bucky, 2.6k [AU where Bucky never fell.] They win the war. Steve and Bucky come home and deal with their feelings. ✦ дорогой by smilebackwards, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, canon divergence, 1.8k “Are you goddamn kidding me?” Fury asks when Steve shows up to the rendezvous point in Fredericksberg with the Winter Soldier. ✦ have you ever thought just maybe by Desdemon, steve/bucky + tony/pepper + other marvel characters, humor, 4.4k “JARVIS,” Tony called thoughtfully. “Yes, sir?” “Those young people are in love,” he said. ✦ Use Your Damn Words by wilddragonflying, steve/bucky, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.2k There’s murmuring, indistinct voices, all around him; all he catches, at first, are the occasional words. “—mated.” “—no difference—“ “—make him forget—“ That’s when Bucky starts fighting. ✦ It’s an Adequate Life, Bucky Barnes by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, it’s a wonderful life fusion, 10.2k This is a world without Bucky Barnes.
✦ and it starts just where the light exists by caughtinanocean, steve/bucky, mildly nsfw, 3.4k In which Bucky can’t admit the things he needs, but Steve knows them anyway, and Steve and Bucky are definitely a couple, even if they don’t know it. ✦ tango till they’re sore by sciencemyfiction, steve/bucky, nsfw, 4k Four shorts about Steve and Bucky, and romance, and sex, and dominance, and grief, and forgiveness. ✦ Permission by derekstilinski, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, 2.5k After Bucky’s captured by SHIELD, they put him in a holding cell, and strip him of everything but his clothes. He’s dirty, damaged, and Steve can’t just watch him like that, protocol or not. ✦ Milkshakes & Penguin Suits by TheLocket, steve/bucky, fluff, 2.9k At the latest Stark party, Steve and Bucky share a milkshake — and spend the evening together. ✦ Practical Mathematics by Grey_Bard, steve/bucky + steve/peggy + steve/peggy/bucky + tony, 1.7k After a hard shift saving the world, Stark - in his infinite wisdom - has decided to bond with Steve by talking about his favorite subject. Well, third favorite, after building things and smart-mouthing people. Steve is pretty sure none of his experiences really count. Tony is starting to wonder what Steve’s definition of “is” is. ✦ how happy must be angels thus employed by lanyon , steve/bucky + clint/coulson, mildly nsfw, humor, 2k It begins entirely accidentally. Clint walks in on Bucky and Steve in a compromising position and then Bucky escalates by tapping a private line between Clint and Phil. Also known as The One With The Cock-Blocking Competition (and it’s all fun and games until Phil and Steve find out.) ✦ Fate by grumpyowls, steve/bucky + peggy, 2.1k Bucky finds a drawing and it turns out to mean something more than he thought.
✦ One More Time by DevBasaa, steve/bucky, pre-serum, ~1k Steve’s clueless and Bucky’s not yet ready to acknowledge these feelings. But that doesn’t stop him from having them. Set before Bucky ships out, but after Steve receives his A1. ✦ Bucky and Bear by fromgoodbones, steve/bucky, fluffy, ~1k Steve gets Bucky a cat. ✦ Size Isn’t A Problem by bondboy68, steve/bucky, NSFW, 1.8k It’s the first time Bucky has seen Steve naked in some seventy-odd years, and things have definitely changed.
STEVE/BUCKY - PRE-THE WINTER SOLDIER SPECULATION:
✦ devil’s gonna follow me (wherever I go) by Lyaka, steve/bucky & natasha & cast, the winter soldier speculation, 63k The man who used to be Bucky Barnes lined up his shot. His finger twitched, only once, very precisely. Help me, the bullet sang. Ninety-eight floors below him, the bullet glanced off a vibranium shield with a musical ping. And Steve Rogers looked up. ✦ And it felt like a kiss by orphan_account, steve /bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k We can’t stop feeling Winter Soldier feelings. And neither can Bucky or Steve. ✦ testament by paxlux, steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier speculation fic, 10.6k His memory runs backwards in crooked bright flashes, hard as the noise flare of an assault rifle. ✦ persistence of memory by hollimichele, steve/bucky/natasha, NSFW, the winter soldier speculation, 11.5k It’s a nondescript sort of a Wednesday morning when the Winter Soldier walks into SHIELD headquarters, bold as brass, and announces his intention to surrender. ✦ To Be Modified As Necessary by ignipes, steve/bucky & bucky/natasha & clint/natasha & thor/jane & avengers, the winter soldier speculation, 5.9k They only need ten rules to ensure (relatively) peaceful cohabitation. ✦ lights at two dollars a strand by legete, steve/bucky + tony, the winter soldier speculation, 1.4k They don’t mean to decorate for Christmas. It just sorta…happens.
STEVE/BUCKY - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ Out of the Dead Land by orphan_account, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + nick fury + other marvel characters, nsfw in one scene at the end, 62.7k Someone is building machines that look and act like people. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes. ✦ this is a back alley by saintsideways, steve/bucky & natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 14.2k Here is the only thing you know: the body remembers. ✦ your blue-eyed boys by Feather (lalaietha), steve/bucky & cast, 123.3k Steve has no plan. Not because he hadn't tried to make one. He'd tried to make lots of plans. Plan, adapt, plan again, tried to think of every contingency. [post-Winter Soldier recovery fic] ✦ The man on the bridge by boopboop, steve/bucky & tony/pepper & clint/natasha & cast, 107.5k Steve Rogers turning up at Tony's door with an amnesiac assassin - who may or may not have some of Tony's personally designed hardware attached where his arm should be - well that's just far too interesting to turn away, even if Tony is trying to avoid all things S.H.I.E.L.D these days. ✦ Soft Spot for the Hell Raisin’ Boy by ifeelbetter, sam & bucky + steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, (some) humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier takes an interest in Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes wants to tell him how to be Steve Rogers’s best friend. ✦ Reconstruction Site by EmilianaDarling, steve/bucky + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 7.6k He is the Winter Soldier. He is James Buchanan Barnes. He’s not one and he’s not the other, and he’s not sure if that makes him anything worth saving. In which the Winter Soldier leads Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a wild goose chase through Eastern Europe so that he can learn more about the man who actually thinks he can be saved.
✦ hold me tight by hollimichele, bucky/steve + sam + natasha, nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 11.1k In the old days, before the war, Steve got cold at night. That was all it was, at first. ✦ A Bullet in the Barrel (of your best guy’s gun) by lc2l, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, canon divergence (sort of), violence, 6k You return to the concrete hole in the ground where the mission is not dead and not in the sewers and is looking at you. “Bucky,” says Rogers, Steve (deceased). ✦ Sleeperhold by Argyle, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.2k He’s hardwired to disappear. ✦ lost my fear of falling by ftmsteverogers, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, 1.8k “It’s been two weeks,” Natasha says, pressing a coffee cup into Steve’s hand. “How long are we going to do this?” Steve watches the steam curl into question marks above his cup. “I know he’s still in there,” he says, and that’s that. ✦ but the fires are coming by stitchingatthecircuitboard, steve/bucky + bucky & natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He does not remember, except that is better than being made to forget, again, and again, and again. He does not go to Brooklyn. ✦ we did not make ourselves by M_Leigh, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 25.1k It is like steel, the determination inside of you that tells you you will achieve this, that you will find him. Nothing will stop you. You are two sides of the same coin, you and he: he cannot escape you forever. Bucky runs. Steve follows. ✦ measured my life in cooking lessons by FoxGlade, steve/bucky + clint + avengers, fluff, the winter soldier spoilers, 4k He knocks on Clint’s door, sharp and loud, and half a minute later Clint is standing there in boxers and a baggy Army Rangers shirt. “Morning,” Steve says shortly, before Clint can say anything. “You up to teaching me how to make those French toasts? I think I need to talk.” Clint yawns and stretches. Something in his back makes a loud cracking sound and Steve winces. “Yeah, I’m up,” he mumbles, then squints. “This is going to be a long cooking lesson, isn’t it?” “I found Bucky sitting outside the tower on the street when I went out for a jog and he remembered me but I’m pretty sure that’s all he remembers.” Clint just waves a hand and heads for the kitchen, Steve shuffling in his wake.
✦ and we are finally home by lastembers, sam & bucky + steve/bucky + sam/natasha, 7.3k The Winter Soldier shows up in Sam’s kitchen, one morning. He deals with it. (Natasha helps. Steve would, if they let him.) ✦ Circling Back by chaya, steve/bucky + sam + natasha + tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 59.6k Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him. ✦ your favorite ghost by augustbird, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 21k It’s harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home. ✦ Green-Eyed Monster by storiesfortravellers, steve/bucky + steve & tony + steve & sam + bucky & natasha, humor, 1.9k The Winter Soldier has joined the team and is slowly recovering, but he goes into a jealous rage whenever he sees that Steve is close friends with Tony, Sam, or Natasha. Past Steve/Bucky. ✦ Castor and Pollux by StringTheori, howard stark & steve + steve/bucky, mild the winter soldier spoilers, 2.9k A fic where Howard is emotionally constipated, a terrible human being, catches someone doing something, and brushes off friendships because he can. ✦ Find My Way by Brenda, steve/bucky + oc pov, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.6k Well, someone had to write the post-Winter Soldier fic where Bucky gets a decent meal and some homemade apple pie, right?
✦ Parallel Constructions by freshbakedlady, steve/bucky + sam + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 13.6k In the absence of orders, the man wearing the face of Bucky Barnes must figure out who he will be. The answer, mostly, is “somebody Steve Rogers can love.” Nothing so easy should ever take this much work. ✦ five people bucky barnes never was. by rhllors, steve/bucky + bucky/natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.9k Five lives that never came to pass. ✦ no heart to recall by KiaraSayre, steve/bucky & sam & natasha & tony, the winter soldier spoilers, 15.3k He’s been in Steve Rogers’s company for less than twenty-four hours and he’s already losing sight of his mission. ✦ Bring Us Back a Souvenir by newredshoes, steve/bucky & sam & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.5k Even with all his hair hacked off, he doesn’t look like a Bucky, Sam thinks. Maybe as some sort of stupid joke, like naming your most vicious dog Sweetpea. Steve’s told him the stories, and he’s seen the old newsreels; he knows what this Barnes guy used to be like. But it’s not like knowing what to look for is going to magically make some spark rise to the top. This isn’t an excavation. ✦ i will be your ground by misprinting, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.7k A character study. The subject: Bucky’s hair. (Also, a Bucky comes in from the cold fic.) ✦ Debts by vestigialwords, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, ~1k Steve’s life is a collection of debts, and the balance does not work out in his favor. ✦ Five times Steve kissed Bucky by paragon, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 16.5k (+ once, finally, it was the other way around) ✦ Run Until the Road Runs Out by ignipes, steve/bucky + sam & bucky + natasha, the winter soldier spoilers, 5.2k Sam’s along for this ride because he’s not about to let Steve Rogers go it alone, but Steve’s not the only one who needs a friend.
✦ And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me by ifeelbetter, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 4.4k The Captain woke quickly and tested the chain before he saw the Soldier. All the tension in his body evaporated once he met the Soldier’s eyes and he slumped downward, back up against the wall. “Oh, thank god,” he said. He repeated it twice, quiet. Like a secret. ✦ Your Mind Rings by Amberly, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.2k You aren’t Bucky. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore, either, but you’re not Bucky ✦ tabula rasa by dance_at_bougival, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 10.3k Bucky Barnes screamed himself hoarse on that table and screamed falling off that train. He screamed when they programmed him and screamed and screamed until he isn’t Bucky Barnes anymore, not really. He is still screaming, a trapped rat running around a labyrinthine machine, clawing at the doors and running into dead ends. He has been screaming for seventy years. ✦ The Age’s Most Uncertain Hour by dewinter, steve/bucky + peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.8k Five times the Winter Soldier remembered (and then forgot). ✦ The Steven G. Rogers Guide to What You Missed the Last Few Years by what_alchemy, steve/bucky, humor, 5.1k Steve’s got the hang of this 21st century thing. ✦ All the First Times by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), steve/bucky + other marvel characters, the winter soldier spoilers, 9.6k Bucky starts over and finds new ways to survive. ✦ Me Against Your Memory (It’s a Two-Step Recovery Process) by thisiswhatthewatergaveme, steve/bucky + steve & natasha + steve & sam + natasha & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 56.5k wip The Soldier needs answers. It’s the only mission he has left. And the mission is all he has.
✦ Make It Up as We Go Along by hannahrhen, steve/bucky + natasha + sam, mildly nsfw, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.6k Steve’s a terrible liar when he opens his mouth. ✦ What’s in a name by Ark, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 3.4k Steve doesn’t resist. He is dipped back: a dance. “Bucky,” says Steve. The severely serene surface does not stir. “You will answer the questions I ask.” The Soldier’s voice is Bucky’s but the accent is all wrong. His face is Bucky’s, perfect, and all wrong. ✦ Drawn From Life by littlerhymes, steve/bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 2.5k “I remember,” Bucky says, but that’s not entirely true. Set after The Winter Soldier.
STEVE/BUCKY - POST-INFINITY WAR: ✦ Coming Back by Emotionallyunstabl, entire cast (some steve/bucky), infinity war spoilers, 1.9k Fixing Avengers: Infinity War. ✦ How ya been, Buck? by dvorahbee, steve/bucky, NSFW, infinity war spoilers, 2.3k A fix-it for Bucky and Steve’s reunion because I wasn’t too happy with that half-assed reunion we had. ✦ hold some dirt with those hands by magdaliny, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 3k It had sent him to his knees. ✦ To Never Have Loved At All by hitlikehammers, steve/bucky & cast, infinity war spoilers, 2.8k Steve will say they had work to do, and a universe to put to rights. They had people to find and hearts to unbreak. They had a mission. There was no time for any of them to mourn. Steve, as it turns out, says a lot of things that are mostly bullshit.
CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY GEN FIC RECS: ✦ This, You Protect by owlet, steve & bucky & everyone else, humor, 64.3k The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect ✦ By Choice or By Habit by Sholio, steve & bucky & natasha & clint & tony, 6.4k He is useful. He holds onto that. He is useful and a useful tool will not be thrown away. (For illumynare’s request: How about something with Bucky realizing the Avengers actually think of him as a person? And off I went to the utterly shameless h/c place.) ✦ 5 (+1) Times Bucky Was Already a Supersoldier by chaya, steve & bucky, 1k Erskine made it plain for Steve - the serum makes you stronger, faster, harder to kill, and it amplifies your existing qualities. Barnes, though, didn’t get any such heads up. ✦ Thaw by danveresque, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 7.5k The Winter Soldier tries to find Bucky Barnes. ✦ Brothers In Arms by copperbadge, steve & bucky & sam & sam & tony & pepper & clint + background tony/pepper, 11.4k Bucky Barnes gets a tune-up, a new pet, and a home. ✦ You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter, bucky & avengers, fluff, 4.5k Bucky saved a tiny dinosaur and took her home to Avengers Tower and on the way remembered how to laugh and sleep in soft beds. ✦ Strawberries in Wintertime by Sholio, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & sharon, 3.2k Or, how Sam’s apartment turns into a hangout for superheroes, spies, and rogue assassins. ✦ This Lonely Hour Before Daybreak by cheesethesecond, steve & bucky + sam + natasha, 2.9k Steve knew there would be good days and bad days. That’s how this sort of thing worked. Except sometimes, the bad days go like this.
✦ Almond, Clavicle, Orchid by kvikindi, steve & bucky & sam & natasha, 4.5k You say, “I don’t know what I am.” “It’s okay not to know,” Steve tells you. His face is very careful. But you know. You know that it’s not okay. ✦ you can’t fly on dinosaurs, bucky by scorpionbythesea, steve & bucky & clint, humor, 1.2k Based off the tumblr post by embracingthemadness and the tag that followed: steve and bucky making up random stories from their past and convincing the other avengers that it actually happened (◡‿◡✿) #there’s no way you guys fought nazi dinosaurs ✦ Fly on the Wings of Love by Omnicat, steve & bucky & sam & natasha & tony & clint + some background pairings, domesticity, 13.2k The Wings: Bucky just wants to show his appreciation for everything Sam has done for Steve. Of course, Tony Stark’s middle name is ‘needlessly difficult’. The Love: Bucky tries to set Natasha up with Sam. He’s a bit late for that party, but he managed to find Steve’s shield and replace Sam’s wings: he’ll come up with something for her. ✦ Swap by sparkles_stars, steve & bucky + avengers, body swap, 1.2k Steve and Bucky switch bodies. Nothing of substance happens from that moment on. ✦ Escape by Sholio, steve & bucky, 2.4k Missing scene for Captain America: The First Avenger – freeing the prisoners was just the start of getting away. ✦ think of it as personality dialysis by KiaraSayre, bucky & darcy, humor, 1.4k “I strangled someone with a shoelace once,” Barnes says. “Does that count as expressing myself through clothes?” “Uh, no.”
✦ Name, Rank, and Serial Number by forthegreatergood, steve & bucky + other marvel characters, 1.5k A Nazi peeling off his skin and declaring himself beyond human doesn’t even get a rise out of him anymore, but Bucky doesn’t think he could stand it if Steve ripped off his face, too. ✦ The Dawn of That Last Great Day by ignipes, steve & bucky + avengers + minor pairing references, the winter soldier speculation fic, 13.8k The Winter Soldier has a mission: kill Captain America. ✦ All The Leaves Are Brown (And the sky is gray) by AvocadoLove, bucky & tony + some tony/pepper + very mildly implied steve/bucky, 17.4k The Winter Soldier's mission is nearly complete. Howard and Maria Stark are dead, leaving him to dispatch their four-year-old child. One quick twist of the neck is all it will take, but the Soldier finds he cannot do it. So instead of killing Tony Stark, the Winter Soldier takes him away to raise as his own.
CAPTAIN AMERICA: STEVE&BUCKY&CAST - POST-THE WINTER SOLDIER: ✦ so this is how it is by sciencemyfiction, steve & bucky & sam, the winter soldier spoilers, ptsd, 29.1k Following the events of the Winter Soldier film, Steve and Sam finally find Bucky, and work to get back to a good place. ✦ On Your Left by TravelingRoses, steve & bucky & natasha & sam & tony thor & fury peggy, the winter soldier spoilers, 12.9k Five times someone told Steve to give up looking for Bucky and two times someone didn’t. Alternately, five times someone smacked Steve on the head and said “Don’t do the thing” and he continued doing the thing and two times he listened so he could keep doing the thing. ✦ and i have fought (in flesh and blood) by ChristinasInferno, steve & bucky, the winter soldier spoilers, 1.1k “He is Bucky Barnes and his best friend is Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers is Captain America.” Bucky, post-Winter Soldier. ✦ The Care and Feeding of Traumatized Ex-Assassins by Sholio, steve & bucky + natasha + sam, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k Steve starts to notice someone’s been in his apartment while he’s not there. Set after Winter Soldier; spoilers. ✦ Glass of Milk by Lauralot, bucky & avengers, the winter soldier spoilers, 6.6k In which in the Winter Soldier is in the care of the Avengers. He has yet to regain his memories, but he has developed a fondness for dairy products.
#lumi.txt#marvel#captain america#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#fic recs#marvel fic recs#captain america fic recs#stucky fic recs
201 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Sonic Movie 3 trailer came out and it is awesome!
I know it came out a week or so ago and I might be late into talking about it but rest assured I watched it 30 minutes after it came out.
I decided to start talking about it now because I want to put in my two cents about a certain topic.
At some point in the trailer we get this image of Tom:
He’s screaming “Sonic!!” and then it immediately flashes to this image of Shadow:
There is also this interaction with Sonic and Shadow:
“What did you do?”
“What I had to.”
First of all, f🤬cking aura Shadow, holy sh💩t. That “what I had to” sent shivers to me timbers.
Second of all, why I’m making this post:
This has led people to believe that Shadow might harm Tom in some way or even killing him.
And I don’t think that is true.
Do I think that they might tussle around? Yeah. Do I think Shadow will straight up assassinate him? Hell no!
CONTINUE UNDER THE CUT ⬇️
Now, I have seen people believe it and draw it but more as like a “this is a cool alternative but I don’t actually think it would happen”, but then there are others who genuinely believe that Shadow is going to kill Tom.
While there is nothing wrong with believing that, it raises a problem for Shadow’s overall character.
We all know Shadow is just misunderstood. Especially from Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails. Keep in mind that they are working with the very people that killed Maria—a little girl, Shadow’s best friend, and they have no idea 😀
I feel like if Sonic finds out about it, then there will definitely be conversations yet to happen, and not very friendly ones.
I kinda think this might be an image of Sonic looking around the Ark. Maybe this is when he finds out? However, that is not something I can really prove:
One thing I will say: even though if we were in Shadow’s position and we might try to kill humanity too, I think we should all acknowledge that even though we can understand him it doesn’t mean we should agree with the path he has walked down on.
Anyway, Shadow = misunderstood. Got it. That is all a story for another time, I’m still here for something else.
I think we can all agree that Shadow has been through a lot, and I think some of the games do him justice for the way he makes up for his actions; finding out who is he is and honoring Maria’s wish, sacrificing himself and falling down to earth, going against Black Doom’s wishes, fighting Memphis, saving Sonic (multiple times), him and Team Dark, the Archie comics, and more.
We’re gonna ignore the Boom!Shadow for this one boys. He’s irrelevant. (lol)
While Shadow and Sonic aren’t friends or enemies, they’re by each others side to do the right thing. All Shadow wanted to do was the right thing and at the time he believed it was killing humanity.
I think what I’m trying to say is that Shadow has done some villainy sh💩t under the influence of what people showed him back to the accident of the Ark. However, he is not a bad guy and he doesn’t deserve to be the bad guy.
If they do this, if Shadow kills Tom, he will be an irredeemable monster to Sonic and even to me, and Shadow doesn’t deserve that treatment.
I don’t want to look at Movie!Shadow knowing that he killed an amazing character and the father to Sonic.
I also want to say, that when Sonic is talking to Shadow and asks him what he did, he sounds mad but he doesn’t sound mad enough to the point of Tom’s death kind of mad. Sonic would be f🤬cking furious. He would fr say “screw the power of friendship I’m about to END this B🐶TCH”.
I can’t say for certain that Tom isn’t going to die, but I really don’t think and want to believe that Shadow is going to be the one to kill Tom.
Like I said before, it’s tragic for what happened to him but we shouldn’t justify the path he’s walking on. Killing Tom is no excuse either.
I just don’t want to be disappointed. I have been looking forward for this movie for too long. I really just want Shadow to be the sweet little anti-hero he truly is.
While I’m here, I wanna circle back around to Tom screaming Sonic’s name. First of all, Tom is in a G.U.N uniform. Either he’s going in disguise or maybe the commander guy whose name I don’t care to remember gave him a position in the G.U.N forces.
In the first Sonic Movie, Maddie did say that there has been a Wachowski serving and protecting for 50 years. The same amount of time Shadow was in a coma. Maybe the commander recognizes Tom’s last name and offers him a position.
Maybe Sonic and co. find out about what they did to Maria and the Ark, and when confronting G.U.N, G.U.N decides to turn on them. Maybe that’s why Tom was screaming Sonic’s name, because he was about to get hurt. Remember, even though Sonic saved the world in the 1st movie, in the 2nd movie G.U.N still believed they would be a threat. Maybe G.U.N is using them in hopes they won’t find out about what happened 50 years ago. They’d be perfect against Shadow, they’re the same species! (Kinda…)
If G.U.N can’t defeat Shadow, maybe another powerful being can.
Anyway, those were my two cents.
Don’t take this post too personally please, if you wanna believe Shadow kills Tom, then by all means go off! I just wanted to show my perspective of things and how I see Shadow as a person.
Remember, opinions are opinions and we shouldn’t devalue anyone’s just because we don’t agree.
Take care! 🫶🏻
#sonic fandom#sonic movie 3#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#tom wachowski#knuckles the echidna#miles tails prower#maddie wachowski#maria robotnik#black doom#team dark#I’m nervy wervy srry#unsweetingtea: sonic
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
A message to all the assorted unscrupulous undead: Beware the Ides of March.
To everyone else: Grab your kukri blades, your bowie knives, your stakes, your bone saws, and whatever else you have on hand to appropriately accessorize with your new copy of The Vampyres.
The book is out! Loose! Running rampant and bloodstained through the terrains of eBook and paperback alike!
My beautiful little baby, toddling into the literary world to deliver havoc unto the dastardly bastards of the revenant realm. I’m so proud. (And so happy to feel the stress headache finally start to crack.)
Now that The Vampyres is out in the open, a brief FAQ under the cut:
Where can I get the eBook?
Check out the Universal Book Link (UBL) here:
It’ll show you all the places you can grab a virtual vampyre by the throat.
Where can I get the paperback?
For folks in ‘murrica, I’d say hit up Bookshop.org to go and grab it from your physical store of choice:
You can also just search The Vampyres C.R. Kane and see the waterfall of options. Not sure of the exact timeline, but it should be more widely available in the coming weeks. At least hereabouts:
Pictured: Places to potentially purchase a paperback.
Can I get it at my library?
If you ask for it, yes! You’ll need the ISBNs when filling out your library’s request form, so:
eBook ISBN: 9798218374594
Paperback ISBN: 9798218374587
What’s the status on that paperback cover business?
Current status is still ???
At least in the sense that I’m not sure what version of the book cover you might get at the moment. Original matte? Temporary glossy? Updated matte that’s here to stay? No idea at the moment. My self-publishing page shows the update’s confirmed, but the online stores are still using the first version as the preview image and I’m not sure when that gets swapped out. At least the books are all print-on-demand, so whatever you order, just know it’s not coming from some thrown-away backup heap. It’s fresh from the book oven press.
Anything else I need to know?
First, reviews are extremely welcome! I am running on negative budget when it comes to waving my little flag to announce that I Made a Scary Vampire Book, so I’m really relying on word-of-mouth if I want it to actually get its head above water. Leaving stars and comments wherever you can, be it in the online stores, the Goodreadses or Smashwordses or whatever else, would be a big help.
(Really though, I can and will dissolve into a puddle of relieved ego if I see so much as one (1) Nice Comment on Tumblr, my cesspool of choice.*)
*This is not hyperbole. I can count on one hand how many PROMOTION © ™ posts I’ve made on Twitter and have fingers left over. This novella is tailored to my fellow fiendish bookworms on here.
Second, to those coming by this stuff for the first time and don’t know what all this hoopla is about, a preview of my novella, The Vampyres, is available on my website. Give it a gander if you want to see under-appreciated classic supernatural bogeymen dropped into their own horror story.
Thirdly, lastly, vitally: thank you.
The Vampyres is a beautiful accident that came together out of an itch to rattle something out just for myself; a break from a bloated piece that had turned into a chore which burned me out and threw away the fun of scribbling. A lightweight read that saved me from being crushed by a cinderblock.
By the same token, the people on here have shouldered me up and out of the creative pit of thinking ‘This is all for nothing.’ For all that I talk of how much I’m powered by spite and the desire to Read a Specific Thing only to realize I Have to Write That Thing First, I’d be a liar if I said the kindness and excitement of the folks who’ve been reading my nonsense for (holy hell) TWO YEARS in the wake of the first big Dracula Daily surge didn’t have a major role in getting this thing done.
I did make The Vampyres for me. But it’s for you guys too. For everyone who saw one of my rambles or little fictions and spoke up to say, I love this! I was thinking this! I wanted this! Finally, finally!
When you crack open the cover for the first time, on a screen or in your hands, I want you to know I’m thinking Thank You at you. I hope you enjoy all the horrors inside.
Postscript:
If you want more info on other stuff I'm tinkering with, check out my website here:
#the vampyres#on its way to join the stab-a-thon#my writing#the vampyre#dracula#horror#holy shit here it is you guys
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
That Which I Cannot See
That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination
Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.
Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.
Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader
Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.
Word Count: 5.4k
A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.
Read on Ao3
-------------
So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*
“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in.
“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell?
I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.
What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.
“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send.
“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”
What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???
*ping*
The DM from the manager comes in.
On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.
Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.
“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”
“Alright??… spill bitch”
-------------
My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.
“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone.
I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.
My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face.
“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.
The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.
A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…
I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.
“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases.
“Thank you. How does what feel?”
“Your transformation.”
“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.
“Your true self.”
“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”
“What are you nervous about?”
“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”
“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”
“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”
“A lot can happen in just one night.”
Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.
“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”
I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.
“How does it feel?”
“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”
Vessel tilts his head.
“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.
“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.
“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”
I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.
“Touch, for example.”
His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.
“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.”
“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic.
The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?
Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.
“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.
“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone.
Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.
“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill.
“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet
“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.
“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.
I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us.
“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.
-------------
Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.
Well, I know what you want from me
You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception
Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave
Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?
Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?
Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.
Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails
I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.
You make me wish I could disappear
The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.
I dream in phosphorescence
Bleed through spaces
My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me.
His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind.
I’m transfixed as he sings to me.
My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre.
A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.
The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.
I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden
Our melody turns into harmonious wails.
Take me back to Edeeeennn
My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek.
“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played.
Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up
He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.
I need you to see me for what I have become
Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus.
My, my those eyes like fire
My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind.
His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.
I guess it goes to show does it not
That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it
His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.
No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence
Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.
We were tangled up like branches in a flood
What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out.
Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.
The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight
So give me the night, the night, the night…
-------------
We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers.
We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.
Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.
“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.
“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.
“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.
“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls.
Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.
“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.”
“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”
“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“I did. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.
“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body
“Yes.” I breathe..
“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.
“What do you want me to sing?”
“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves.
Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination
Tentatively, I recite the words.
Take a look and you’ll see
Into your imagination
There is no life I know
To compare with pure imagination
His voice joins mine.
Living there, you’ll be free
I stop, allowing him to finish the verse
If you truly wish to be
Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.
If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.
“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek.
“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.
“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.
“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me.
“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch.
“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim.
“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.
“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.
“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.
“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.
“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me.
“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.
“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.
“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.
“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.
“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”
I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak.
“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.
“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.
“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.
“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.
“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.
“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.
“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal.
“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones.
“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.
“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”
“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.
#my writing#my work#sleep token fanfic#sleep token fic#vessel fanfic#vessel smut#sleep token smut#vessel x reader#sleep token x reader#gildedneon writes
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something I would just like to get off my chest...
Literally I just want to talk my shit. This is just SOME of the shit I'm tired of seeing in my community.
I grew up in a extremely god-fearing Christian home. Most of my childhood years where spent in a church or with my nose stuck into a Bible. It was horrible. When I was 10, I was opened to the world of magic and slowly I realized that what I was reading could be true. I began to research as much as I could and now here we are. But anyways, as I began to expand my craft, I start to find myself with people who also practice!
My first experience with the shit talk in my community was from a witch who came from a long line of witches and claimed they were more powerful then me bc of that....I've never seen them practice or even attempt to practice....and their mother is a wiccan....ok yeah sure ☠️ like first off, literally I don't care, I don't care if your mother is a witch, I don't care that "you are the granddaughter of the witches they didn't burn" ☠️☠️ you can miss me with that. Second off, because they claimed to be a more powerful witch they said they could "mentor" me and teach me the "right ways" and when I said no they then told me I would never be powerful and that they would curse me....where's that curse at girlie???? I do not care for power. I do not care for control. I just want to find harmony with myself and the world.
The second experience I had, AND I KNOW EVERYONE. EVERYONE. HAD THIS HAPPEN TO THEM, was the "I've been practicing for x amount of years so....Im actually better then you" I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. I do not give a fuck how long you have been practicing. Here's a real question, why do you, a "experienced" witch, feel the need to invalidate new witches, when your practice is all your own? Are you really practicing if you feel the need to scare and fearmonger newer witches? Why not help them?I remember I was at such and loss starting out because no one would tell me, they would be like "how could you not know that?!?!" Or "I would NEVER make that mistake" it's ok to make mistakes, fuck man 8 years later and I still make mistakes. Also, Witchcraft communities have always been about communicating, when looking for where to began, young witches would TURN TO THEIR ELDERS. Why have we driven away from that? Idk I just feel like if you feel the need to invalidate newer witches, you aren't actually secure in your own practice. So are you really better then me? Or are you just worried I'll become more "powerful" then you?
And I know we've all gone through the "I have the most expensive herbs so my spells are way more powerful" just say you love capitalism ☠️☠️ LMFAOOO the witches I see on tiktok are like the over consumption final boss like holy shit. I literally get everything I need from the forest outside my house, I literally haven't bought anything for my practice in like months because I put my time and energy into what I create for my deities, spells, and rituals. And honestly, Ive had way better results because of it. You don't need all this big fancy stuff, just get started with what you have. Make it your own.
Instead of doing all this, mind your business, stay to YOUR craft, and if someone asks for help you can give them what you can. Literally just be a nice person Jesus fucking Christ. Just be a nice person. The entire reason I made this blog was for witches who needed someone to push them in the right direction. This post was me talking shit, if you feel called out....then consider this a sign to try to be better, there's always a chance to start again. And also, in no way am I bashing witches who come from a long line of witches, that shit is cool as hell, I'm just saying when you use it just to be cool and not practice, bc i hate to break it to you but if you don't practice like at all, not even attempt to start, then you aren't a witch my guy im sorry being born into a witch family doesn't automatically make you a witch, you have to carve that shit out for yourself. But anyways it's 1am I'm tired I honestly have no idea why I wrote this. Ok bye.
#witchcraft#hellenic deities#hellenic pagan#hellenic worship#hellenism#aphrodite#pagan#hekate#paganism#please dont come for me this is just my opinion#chaos shit talks
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
Holy Grail - drabble.
Summary: Henry develops a fixation for a certain part of his pregnant wife’s body…
Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC
Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, sexy talk, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.
WC: 635
A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!
Holy Grail - drabble.
"Whoa--"
"Henry, get out, I'm trying to get dry!" He quickly turned around as she grabbed the towel from the bed and clutched it to her chest.
"I'm sorry! I came in here to fetch Kal so I could give him his tea!" But the pooch was still fast asleep at the foot of their bed.
"Well you better get out of here before he wakes up, you know how protective of me he is at the moment."
"I know, the soppy git…"
"He's soppy?! You almost had a panic attack yesterday when you thought I ate shrimp! And he picked up following me into every room from you!"
"Yeah well at least I don't guard you when you're in the shower--"
"Well thank God for Kal, otherwise you'd be leering at me through the glass!"
"At least then I'd get a look at them! Come on, drop that towel, and lemme see if I can't tune in for the news and weather--"
"Out, now! I wanna get dry in peace."
"Then here, let me help…" Henry took a few steps forward only for her to dart under the bed so she could fetch something. "What the hell is the broom doing under there?!"
"I had to bring it up last night to squish a spider on the ceiling and now I'm going to use it to get rid of another pest."
"My lady may call me whatever she wishes. For she is beautiful, rich, and got huge… tracts of land!"
"That's it! I'm not enduring Monty Python quotes. You're banned from my presence the rest of the evening. Be gone!" She tried to jab with the broom only for him to dart out of the way.
"Aww come on, when was the last time we got to knock boots?"
"Last bloody night!"
"Then you should be warmed up by now!"
"God give me strength… anyway I thought you just wanted to cop a feel?"
"Well I'll take whatever I can get--"
"Yeah well by the time I'm finished with this broom, you'll be able to sweep the floor!"
"Charming, all I wanted was to enjoy the beauty of my pregnant wife! Honestly, it looks like you're holding up two ten-gallon hats--"
"God you belong on a bloody list… can't you go one night without being a pervert?"
"No, but I'll tell you what, you flash me lefty and I'll give you a hundred quid."
"A hundred quid?"
"Yeah, would you prefer cash or bank transfer?"
"Is that all you think I'm worth?!"
"Well, it's not like you're giving me a handful!"
"And how much would you pay for that? I was thinking of redoing the kitchen…"
"What? Why? I did a good job of the tiling!"
"Henry, two fell off just this morning!"
"Then let little Henry have a dance in your ballroom and I'll fix it for free!"
"Will you also disappear back downstairs?"
"God, you always want to get rid of me!"
"Yeah, cos you get on my sodding tits!"
"I bloody wish!" She looked up at the ceiling and prayed for guidance.
"Henry, give me one good reason why I should have sex with you tonight."
"I can do better than that, I can regale you with song."
"What?!" Henry cleared his throat.
"Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great. If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate!" She perched on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.
"I can't actually believe I'm having your child…"
"I can, especially after last night. Now get thee to bed, and let's go for round two--"
"Really? You're reciting Shakespeare now?"
"Well I thought that might do the trick--"
"Fat chance."
"Why not? I can leave the money on the bedside table--" she chucked a pillow at him.
To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.
@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @geralts-yenn @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira
#henry cavill#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill imagine
501 notes
·
View notes
Text
some post wad weekend thoughts...
i just wrote all this on the plane and haven't read it through so apologies for any mistakes
first of all, this weekend was incredible. i usually just kinda sit at home doing not much of anything, and this was a much needed break to actually have some fun. london in general always lifts my spirits but i suppose that danisnotonfire guy contributed a little as well.
guys i think i've met more people the past few days than i otherwise have in years. like. holy shit. i started listing people but i'm petrified i'll forget someone so i chickened out, sorry about that. but you all know who you are. i've met friends i've had for years, people i used to know but haven't spoken to in what feels like a decade, newer friends, and a frankly baffling amount of people i didn't know yet but who told me they've followed me for ages. like holy fuck you guys lmao what the hell??? and i mean did the reaction ever get old no of course it didn't. bad for my ego i'm sure but totally worth it. there's something very amusing and incredibly surreal about being chronically lame in most aspects of life and then suddenly finding yourself in an environment where you're kinda cool???? SO fucking fun oh my god, but also i do kinda feel like i've tricked you all? but hey i'll happily let you keep believing i'm cool, that is more than fine with me.
most importantly though everyone was SO lovely. like i said i don't think i've spoken to this many people in such a short amount of time in years and every single person i talked to was awesome. guys did you know phannies are kind of great... don't tell anyone but, lowkey... everyone is so funny and cool and absolutely insane but in a good way (shoutout everyone left at the gates until the very end, we should probably get some help).
and then lastly of course, mr howell himself. i talk about this a lot i feel like but fuck me that man was born to perform. whether you think he's actually funny or not, nobody can argue he doesn't absolutely thrive on a stage. he plays off the audience so well and he's so very obviously having the time of his fucking life. i'd already seen the show twice before this, and i didn't think anything would top the previous london show but man... the first night he came back out after the show having clearly been tearing up backstage, apologising for being an inconsistent absent parent, and i can't lie the "i had daddy issues and THEN i subscribed to dan howell" got me cause yeah no literally dude, you nailed it, exactly, well done. i think something about doing this show again, his magnum opus as he considers it, now after the dapg return was very special to him. he seems genuinely surprised that so many of us were ready to just jump back in like nothing happened, i don't think he was expecting so many people to still be waiting and it's... man. he comes off so grateful for us all and it's so fucking sweet. and then on the last night, i think that was my favourite, when the show ended and he got the standing ovation and people throwing him flowers.. he was so HAPPY. and clearly overwhelmed with emotion which, i gotta say, there is something honestly kinda funny about daniel howell standing in front of you trying not to cry. like no by all means dude go ahead, please, you've made me cry an endless amount of times it's only fair.
ugh. i'm proud of him or whatever. dick. and i'm proud of our ridiculous fucking community. i'm not sure what 14 year old nora would say if you'd told me i'd still be kicking it in the phandom a decade on, but at almost 25 (fml) i'm so so happy to be here still. you know, we get a bad rep, but i genuinely think as far as fanbases go we're pretty solid. and i love you all so much.
i believe i will have to rob a bank or something because the next time dan and/or phil do a tour i think i'll have to just show up at every date like i'm sorry but this was too good of a high we need to do it again immediately
anyway. back to work 💪
(by which i mean giffing dan and phil. i am still very much unemployed. fr though i'm two whole videos behind this has never happened i feel weird. who am i)
115 notes
·
View notes
Note
AEIWAM - Some details about whats going on with Komamura. IIRC canon said he was a werewolf, are you doing anything with him?
Me: What IS Komamura's backstory? Me: *reads backstory and eventual canon fate of Komamura* Me: Hm. Me: That's thematically weird and depressing. Me: I'll just ignore that :)
---
So in An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy, there's ALL KINDS of animal-people and supernatural creatures of varying degrees of anthropomorphic states in the Soul Society! Wolf people! Yokai! Centaurs But Bad! Snake people (sneople)! Mothmen! Whatever the fuck The Philosopher Wax is! Hell, Zaraki Kenpachi was raised by eagles! More nonhuman persons than you can shake a stick at!
They just stay away from the humans because The Humans are TERRIBLE.
...Not as terrible as my immediate family though, The Young Wolf is willing to gamble. he has to leave his home suddenly, in the middle of the night, frightened and injured. Family feuds are bad enough, but a drought year for a large group of apex carnivores and great-grandmother dying and creating a power vacuum? I'm lucky I got out alive! He reasons, tightening the bandages and wincing.
It doesn't look so bad. he lies to himself, looking at his reflection in the where he had finally collapsed from exhaustion and blood loss the previous night and somehow woke up alive this morning. Great-Grandfather did me a favor, trying to bite me in half like that- a tail would just make it even harder to blend in with the humans!
...Clothes would help more though. He sighs.
One man's trash is another's treasure, and that has never been more true than in the case of wolves that want to live with humans. The Young Wolf nearly weeps with joy when he finds the dump- barely-rotted animal carcasses to eat! broken wood for a fire! and clothes! Big enough to fit him! Alright that's definitely a bloodstain with a big, sort of sword-slash-shaped hole in the middle, but nothing a dunk in the river won't solve!
...Or not. Well, at least being covered in mud is less suspicious than being covered in blood? How does this thing even go on anyway? The garment is so confusing, he almost doesn't hear the humans who came to dump something until they are nearly upon him, and realizing they'll panic if they see his face, he grabs a broken basket and jams it over his head.
"Hey!" one of the humans calls out, seeing the movement. "What're you?" An old man peers around the pile at him, curious.
The Young Wolf sputters- he's heard tales of humans before, but this is the first human he's ever actually seen- The stories tell of their strange dark eyes and flattened faces how their fur is so fine they're nearly bald all over, and this man fits the description perfectly. An old woman- he guesses this one is a Woman, because what little fur she has is longer- she appears behind him, equally curious, then smacks the man under the ear.
"You dummy!" She snaps. "That's a monk!"
"Big damn monk!" The man laughs- indeed, even though he's one of the smallest of his people and not even grown, The Young Wolf towers over him- but still, he extends his open hand. Like the stories say, his claws are blunt and pale and the pads of his paws are soft. "What's yer name, venerable?"
"He can't answer that, he's a monk!" the woman snaps, exasperated. "They got- whatchyamacallit- Vows of Silence!"
"Oh, right!" the old man laughs. "Well, wouldn't matter if you could talk anyhow- my Old Lady's deaf as a post and I'm dumb as a rock! Come on, this is no place for a holy man!" he waved.
"Our home is up this way- it isn't much, but it's better than sleeping in Garbage! You stay with us and I'll fix that ratty old robe right up!" She said, grabbing him by the hand-
-
Ba-San looks down at his hand- it feels strange in hers, but it's not the fine gray fur covering his fingers or the rough pads on his palm or the dark nails that taper to claws.
It's that the hand is bleeding, scraped and cut and one of his nails missing like it had been torn off in a fight.
Ba-San is so old that everyone has forgotten her name and they just call her Ba-San, even her husband (who is so old that everyone has forgotten his name and calls him Jii-san, even his wife), and she didn't get this ancient by being an idiot. She glances up at the broken basket she knows got thrown in here by her neighbor not a week ago and sees the large golden eyes inside, staring down at her.
She's also old enough to know what a frightened child looks like, no matter how tall or what species he is.
She makes a show of squinting at his hand. "Why, your nails are FILTHY! You can wash up at the well out back too." She pats his hand.
"Of course! That's right!" Jii-san laughs. "Like I said- I got gravel for brains! He can sleep in Sajin's bed- Sajin is our Boy, but he's long since left home. It'll be good to have a young person around again!" he says, taking the boy's other hand.
He follows, stumbling awkwardly in the badly-tied robe and like he's been injured, but if he leaves paw-prints behind him, they don't remark upon it. - After about a month, the boy has something to confess. And something to ask.
Ba-San and Jii-San have been kind to him- they let him into their home and fed him and Ba-San didn't fix his robe so much as make an entirely new one "appropriate for a Monk", and Jii-san found a pair of old work gloves for him "so you can do your Good Works without losing another nail". Ba-San always gives him her soup-bones "I don't have the teeth to chew them anymore" and Jii-san always moves over so they can both sleep in the sun-patch that appears in the middle of their home every afternoon.
He's tried to repay them how he can- he's tall enough to fix the holes in the roof of their one-room shack standing flat-footed on the floor, and he carries water from the well every day to wash the stone steps outside and re-painted the red gate out front and every morning he makes them breakfast to wake them up and every night he rubs their tired necks and shoulders.
"Mmm-rr." he tries at breakfast, and they both look up, but it's hard enough practicing human words in the woods behind the shack to the birds, let alone now, at the table with the two people he cares most about in the world.
"You say something, Venerable?" Jii-san asks. "Don't worry- I won't tattle to the abbot on you-" he teases.
"Shush!" Ba-san barks at him. "What is it?"
He sighs, and tries again, focusing on the sounds. "mMnoddamunk."
The two elders stare blankly at him.
"Ahm nodda munk." he tries again, enunciating better. "Ahm nodda yumn eethrr."
The two look at each other, then turn back to him and place a hand on each of his.
"...Sorta figur'd the first when you didn't recognize the shrine." Nods Jii-san. "-But that's alright. You take good care of us."
"...Sort of figured the second when I saw your hand on the day we met." Nods Ba-San. "-But that's alright. You're a good person, which is a very different thing than being a Good Human."
The Boy stares at them, stunned, then cringes, embarrassed. Of course! They're old, not stupid. "Aiyee- r-r-r MN! Aiyee LLied." he apologizes, stumbling over the difficult consonant in the middle, determined to conquer it.
"I didn't hear any lies, did you, Jii-san?" asks Ba-san.
"I didn't hear nothin' and my ears even work!" he grins, ears perking up.
The Boy sighs, still exasperated with their antics but mostly relieved.
...Then something Jii-san said caught up with him, and he frowns.
"Aiyee- Aye haffa..." Another tricky consonant. "Aye needa assk ssmmng." he changed tracks. L was enough of a battle for one day, Q and his frustrating wife U could wait.
"Whadday wanna know, Venerable?" Jii-san asked, and Ba-san frowned, turning her ear out behind their home, already suspecting his questions.
He held up two fingers and they nodded, waiting. He'd gotten very good at numbers and pointing already, and until today, that had carried the conversation. "sssHrrine?" he asked.
Jii-san frowned. "...what's your second question?"
"th-Therre'ss ah- Grrrave?" he pointed out behind the shrine, to where a stone stood, with what he now recognized as marks signifying a name carved into it. "wHo?"
Ba-San and Jii-san looked at each other, distraught for some time before Ba-San finally turned back to him, both hands on his.
"...Venerable," She finally spoke. "You had to run away from home in a hurry, didn't you?"
The boy nods.
"-And Jii-san and I were the first people you met that weren't you family, right?" She continues.
He nods again. She purses her lips, agitated.
"Jii-San." She finally speaks. "I think we ought to show him Sajin."
Jii-san sighs and nods, agreeing with her, and stands up. At the back of the house, there is a little cabinet with two boxes they never open, and something covered by a black cloth. Jii-san opens the cabinet and takes out the thing covered by the black cloth, pulling the cloth aside and bringing the thing to the table. It's a flat rectangle, and on it is a drawing of a very strange creature.
It's face is almost perfectly circular, and it's body covered in clothes, like how Humans dress, including a funny hat. What the boy can see of the creature is perfectly smooth and hairless and the same color as not-quite-ripe peaches. It has a long mane of straight dark gray hair growing from the top of its head, and a beard a bit like a billy-goat's
"This is Sajin," Says Jii-san, voice wavering a bit. "He wasn't our son- you can tell, we're not related by blood- but he was Our Boy. He took care of us, like you do now."
"He was Our Boy." nods Ba-San, on the verge of tears. "Then he was Our Man. And then he was Our Old Man, and then-" She stopped, and began to cry in earnest. "-And then he left home, and we buried his body out behind the shrine, and marked his grave, as Humans do."
The boy continued to stare at Sajin's portrait. "...Sajin." he whispered, and the name didn't fight him at all. "...Ihff- if Sajin iss Yumann-?" he looked up at his friends. "Whattrrre You?"
Ba-San beckons him and Jii-san back to the cabinet, and puts her hand on one of The Boxes They Never Open. Jii-San puts his hand on the other, and together, the open the lids just a tiny bit for The Boy to see inside.
He gasps and steps back in horror- the things in the boxes are very much like the skulls he's seen of his people before, but the noses are all smooshed like they didn't grow right, and the eyes are too large and- -And they're just the right size each to belong to Ba-San and Jii-San.
"We are Koma, Guardian Dogs, and this is our shrine." Says Jii-san, closing the lid on his box as Ba-san closed hers, and placing the drawing of Sajin back on the shelf above them. "We wear clothes and speak like humans because we once took Names, a very long time ago, and thus we are People and we act like People." He explained.
"Nnames?" the boy asks.
"A Name is... a sort of contract, that the humans made up." Says Ba-San, locking the cabinet back up. "Humans can live together in such huge packs and crowded cities because they have Rules- you're not allowed to kill other people except in self-defense. You're not allowed to take food someone else caught. Nobody is allowed to kill a child for any reason, things like that. If you take a Name, it's like saying- 'I am this Person! And I agree to abide by the rules of being a person!', and you have to follow the rules, but everyone else has to follow the rules for you too, because you have a Name. So Humans can live very close to each other, because they all have an understanding that nobody is going to violate those rules."
"It's not just humans that can take names- long ago, some wolves decided to take names, and those wolves became Dogs, that live with humans. They were our ancestors, and like our ancestors, we took Names, and we obeyed the rules, and for that, we were fed and allowed to sleep inside and given soup-bones and let to sleep in the sun-patch, but most of all, we were Loved." Said Jii-san.
"-And just the same, we Loved Sajin. He was Our Boy. And We were His Dogs." Said Ba-san, bursting into tears again. Jii-san held her, tears running down his face as well.
Ba-san cried into Jii-san's shoulder for a long time, and The Boy Who Was A Wolf That Wanted To Live Among The Humans sat in silence, thinking.
"...Cour-could Aye- take a nName?" He asks, slowly.
"You'd have to take two, and learn all the rules-" Nodded Jii-san. "But yes. Anyone who can talk can take a name. And you've been talking my tail off!" he wagged.
"Two?" the boy asked. He didn't need to use his fingers this time.
"Humans have two names- one is the name of that specific human, and one is the name of their family or the place they came from or what they did, as a sort of... Introduction. Humans are very big on introducing themselves and all their friends- though I suppose it makes sense, what with them having names to introduce themselves with."
"You can be a Komamura!" Jii-san said, wagging excitedly. "Ba-san and Jii-san are Koma, and we are your Ba-San and Jii-San, so you must be part of our family, so that makes you Mura, a relative- so you're a Koma-mura!" he nodded.
"Humans also give their children names of revered ancestors, to honor the ancestor, and protect the child." Added Ba-san. "You do Sajin's chores, you sleep in Sajin's bed, you take care of Sajin's Dogs... You must be Sajin!"
"That's your name, if you want it- Komamura Sajin!" Said Jii-san. The Boy stared at them for a long time, completely still, until they realized that, for the first time since they'd known him, the scarred nub on his backside was wagging too.
"Thank you." Said Sajin, tears streaming down his face too. --
Many months later, a Monk* leaves the little shrine to Ba-san and Jii-san at the edge of the dump. He leaves his home in no particular rush- if anything, he's lingering- in the middle of a bright morning, hale and with joy in his heart. He waves to his Ba-san and Jii-san as he heads down the road, promising to come back and visit.
"Look at that." says Ba-San. "Our Boy is leaving home again."
"I know," Says Jii-san. "-but this time it'll be alright."
--
#AEIWAM#An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy#Bleach#bleach fanfiction#sajin komamura#komamura#The Dog Does Not Die!#except for the dogs that are kind of already Dead#but they're alright#I promise
677 notes
·
View notes
Text
damnation (peek IV?)
Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Jamil Viper, Kalim Al-Asim.
Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.
Note: Got busy, planned to post this a while ago but what can I say? Plans change. Definitely will not have nearly as much time to write as I did a few weeks ago, but I’ll still try whenever I have a bit of time and some energy to do so. Anyways, like I mentioned in a few posts, I was not happy with how I originally wrote Scarabia, so I rewrote almost all of what I had, which was thankfully only like about ten pages. I’m a little more happier with how this is now. But again, things can always change, so the final result may look the same, a little different, or even completely different. Oh, and like mentioned in the previous notes for sneak-peeks, check the points in first post (heartslabyul, labeled “I”) for a bit of context to the situation and story if this is the first sneak-peek you’re seeing.
I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII
THE VIZIER
Feathers. Colorful feathers tickled your nose. A woven shawl sat on your shoulders with vibrant colors and macaw feathers along the clip that held it in place above your collarbone. As your vision readjusted to the scenery, you could make out an old desert city stretching out as far as the eye could see, until it met over the horizon with the starry night sky. It was nothing like the court you were in moments ago. Instantly everything came flashing back to you, the trial, the judges, your punishment. This was your punishment. “Holy shit.”
“Is something wrong?”
You looked to the side, surprised to see a servant placing a tray of food beside you. You were on a balcony, a beautiful grand spacious terrace where the arches were decorated with ivy and walls of flowers while pillars of flames provided light and there was a large water fountain in the center. You were laying on the edge of that fountain, when you pushed yourself up and looked around. That’s when you noticed your clothes had changed too. Somehow your simple change of clothes from before had become easy-to-move-in loose trousers and a simple tunic, but with the colorful shawl over your shoulders that resembled wings. “What? What the hell?”
“Is there something wrong with the food?”
Food? You looked down at the tray the servant had brought, surprised to see plates of kofta and falafels with a chalice of water. The delicious smell wafted in the air, making your mouth water and stomach grumble. How long has it been since you ate? Probably well before you were arrested. If you got food, you were expecting cold slop, not this scrumptious meal that was cooked to perfection. Instantly you snatched it up, assuring the servant, “No, no, forget it! This is fine, uh, thanks…!”
“Very well.” They bowed their head to you, “Please, enjoy the meal, vassal.”
Vassal? You stopped mid-bite, about to ask them about it and where you were, but they had already taken off. Well, you weren’t complaining. You had thought you were going to die, or end up in some horrible hell. This place was actually quite nice. You could feel the breeze of the cool desert air and smell the flora growing on this terrace, you heard the city below with the crackling of fire from the pillars and the running water beside you, not to mention you were eating the best food you ever tasted! If this was hell, then being banished might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you!
“You! Jamil’s vassal!”
There it was again. What the hell did they mean by vassal? Falafels stuffed in your mouth, you slowly and awkwardly turned around to face whoever called you. Who was Jamil? You had no idea. A little annoyed that your dinner was interrupted, you eyed the approaching stranger up and down before swallowing your food and muttering, “What do you want?”
Appearing offended at your response, the young man stomped up to you, closer so you could see him better in the dim lighting. He looks a little young, if you had to guess, you’d say the guy was no younger than eighteen. Sharp blue eyes and long thick black hair styled into a single braid, not to mention he wasn’t smiling. This was no servant judging by the expensive looking blue garbs he wore and the gold on his bronze ears that complimented his handsome face. It had to be someone of high standing. When he was right in front of you, he frowned down at you and placed his hands on his hips, “Where is Jamil? And where is my cousin?”
You lowered your plate of food, squinting at this stranger. Who did he think he was? Jamil? Cousin? “Your cousin…? Jamil…? How should I know?”
“You should know. As the vizier’s only vassal, you should know where Jamil is. That is your job, to serve him. Or is he slithering about in places he shouldn’t be?” As his blue eyes bore down at you, he continued his tirade, “You haven’t bowed your head or greeted me as everyone does, by saying, good day, Prince Jaseer. And you’re here slacking off while everyone else in the palace is working.”
“I’m on a lunch break.” You mumbled in reply, tempted to snap. Wait… had he said prince…? A beautiful royal in blue wearing gold, with long black hair, who is spirited and no-nonsense, like a princess in a fantasy tale. A princess that lived in a palace just like this one, where there was a vizier and sultan–– oh fuck. How was that possible? This was like a stupid kid’s story you heard all the time! Before you could ponder on the topic, you were reminded of who was in front of you by him cleaning his throat. You immediately bowed your head sloppily, begrudgingly, as you recited the words he wanted to hear. “Good day, Prince Jaseer…”
At your less-than-satisfactory response, he crossed his arms over his chest and replied still with that frown, “If you can’t answer my question, then there’s no use talking to you. I’ll find someone that can tell me where my cousin and Jamil are. Let it be known, I have my eye on you and your master. My cousin may be fond of you both, but I am not.”
When you slowly lifted your head, you watched the prince storm away, likely to go find his cousin, whoever that was, and the vizier, this Jamil guy. As soon as he turned a corner, you scrunched your nose and scoffed, “Brat.”
Wait… that meant this was a story. It was all too similar to a story that began much like: it begins on a dark night, where a dark man waits with a dark purpose. If this was that story then what were you…? Apparently working for the vizier, wearing a shawl of rainbows, and feathers… oh my god, you were the fucking parrot. As you resumed your eating you busied your mind with processing these thoughts. “At least the tax collector can’t find me here.”
All you knew was that you were in the role of his parrot, his pet. What a stupid role to end up in! In this version you hoped you were at least some sort of glorified servant! At least you weren’t dead, this was much better than that. You knew the tale of Aladdin by heart, it was a very popular story growing up. You had even envied the protagonist, a thief, for ending up with a genie and winning the love of the princess. Turns out that princess, or prince in this case, was not all that. Well, they always say to never meet your heroes. But, there was one thing that was bound to be great, no matter how much this story would change. The magic lamp that held the genie. You wanted it. Maybe if you stuck around this vizier long enough, you could take it for yourself whenever the opportunity presented itself. You had the advantage, you knew exactly what was going to happen. That genie could grant any of your wishes! It could take you home if you wanted. You could make all those judges rue the day they banished you! You could rule this world and yours! You could bathe in an endless amount of gold and cash! The possibilities were endless!
As you finished your meal, another figure came into view. The figure of a guard, like the ones you’ve been watching patrol and march around, approached you nervously. Only when he noticed you glance at him and nod your head, did he begin speaking, “G-Good evening, vassal. The candidates, they’re ready for the vizier, he’ll be here any moment. You are the only one he trusts, everyone knows this, won’t you put in a kind word for me? I fear he’s in a foul mood, his venture to the cave in the desert didn’t end well again.”
Candidates? Vizier? Cave in the desert? After a few seconds of the guard waiting in anticipation, you were able to connect the dots. This must’ve been a specific rendition of the story where the vizier found the Cave of Wonders in the desert but instead of using a magic machine he created to find the diamond in the rough that could enter the cave, he used his power behind the scenes and in the dark to search through prisoners and criminals and send those he thought might be worthy to die trying to enter the mystic cave. This vizier, Jamil, would no doubt be growing frustrated since he’s likely been keeping at this for so long without finding a single person that can successfully enter the cave. Jumping off your seat on the fountain after finishing your last bite of food, you looked over to the guard and smiled, “Alright, let’s go. We can’t leave the master waiting, can we?”
“Of course! Allow me to lead the way.” So you followed the meek little guard, and as you trailed after him you thought about what would happen and what would you do. The guard had said that it was a fact that the vizier trusted only you, or rather, the person who you’ve replaced. The prince didn’t notice you were not the vassal, and neither did this guard or any of the other servants, so it was likely that no one would notice unless you slipped up, not even the Vizier Jamil. Hopefully.
You watched as the pristine halls of the palace became dark and dim the deeper you went. As the smooth walls became rugged stone lit only by lamps of fire, and the lush green plants and overpriced furniture and decorations became absent. There were also, noticeably, less people. It felt like you and guard were the only ones as you followed them deeper into what you guessed was a dungeon where you heard chains rattling and the echoing screams of those held captive. Before you could enter the room, the guard turned to you and pleaded,
“Please, stay here. I’m sure seeing you will give the vizier a bit of peace. He should be here any moment now. I will go ahead and be sure everything is in order.”
Before you could even protest, the guard scurried ahead to the end of the hall and not too long after, you detected footfall behind you. When you turned around, you saw what you presumed had to be the Vizier Jamil. The vizier looked sort of imposing as he appeared from the dimly lit halls, and with the flames on the wall you could just make out his appearance. A thin figure clothed in red and black robes decorated with gold, holding a golden staff that ended in the shape of a cobra’s head. Long thin hair as black as night coiled down his brown shoulders like snakes in multiple small braids and loose strands decorated with gold, and instantly his sharp gray eyes painted with eyeshadow darted over to you upon noticing your staring. He looked irked, but since you supposedly had a good relationship with him, maybe you could poke and prod without worrying about suffering any consequences. From what you recalled, the vizier’s parrot in the tales was a loud-mouthed creature with a bad temper.
“Welcome back, oh great vizier. So, how did it go?”
“Not a word.” The vizier hissed, sending you a glare. Yet it wasn’t threatening, it felt more… annoyed. Like when your friend was pestering you, except without the light-heartedness. At the least he didn’t snap, he did have the power to command you to be put to death. Yet all he did was give you a look before his frown instantly morphed into a stoic expression in the blink of an eye, so fast that it sent you reeling.
Jamil wasted no time in walking forward, not bothering with greetings as he entered the first room of the dungeon that was dingy and dirty. Inside was the guard from before, nervously standing off to the side just across from a line of prisoners in shackles with their heads hanging low, and more guards behind them. These prisoners reminded you of yourself, but less. Now you’re free of any shackles, you’re wearing fine clothes and eating food made by the best chefs while living in the luxurious palace. To avoid being at the center of attention, you stood off the side, leaning against a corner.
You watched intently, curiously, as Jamil approached the line of prisoners, scanning them all with those sharp eyes as he walked by them slowly. The men and women in rags and chains tensed when he stepped near, but kept their eyes glued to the ground. Whether it was out of respect or fear, you weren’t sure, but you watched as some of them squirmed in place or nervously glanced at him. After a minute of going down the line of a dozen or so prisoners, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face the guard who guided you. On his face was obvious disappointment.
“You bring me the rough, but never a diamond.” That cold stare of his remained on the anxious guard, never looking away even as he commanded the others, “Take them away.”
You pursed your lips and shook your head, watching as the other guards forcefully dragged the prisoners down another hall, to a fate unknown. Poor suckers. You could hear them pleading, begging the vizier for mercy from whatever end they knew awaited them. In one rendition of the story, when the princess snuck out of the palace and gave apples to poor children, apples she had no money on her to pay for, she nearly lost her hand as punishment. It was likely that these prisoners were about to lose much more than a single hand.
The meek guard sent you a pleading look as they whispered frantically, “You said you would put in a kind word for me…!”
Turning your attention to them, you scoffed, “I never said that. I said I would follow you.”
“You…!” At your shrug, he directed his sights towards the vizier who was walking away, his back toward him as he seemed to be prepared to follow the guards and prisoners going elsewhere within the dungeon. “Please, my vizier.” The vizier stopped, and the words were caught in the guard’s throat until he finally forced them out with wavering uncertainty, making it sound more like a question than a statement. “... Perhaps this diamond in the rough does not exist…?”
For a moment he paused but didn’t turn around, and quietly replied, “They’re out there.” A response with unwavering certainty.
“But we’ve searched for months!” It appears that the guard was showing signs of frustration as well. Who knows how many prisoners they’ve interrogated and how many criminals they’ve captured in these months, all in an attempt to satisfy the vizier’s wish of finding a diamond in the rough. “I do not understand what could possibly be in that cave that could help a… a man as great as you. You are already second only to the sultan!”
“Second? Uh-oh.” You exclaimed, bracing yourself for what was to come and ignoring the guard’s growing irritation towards you. In the tale, yes the vizier worked for the sultan, he was the sultan’s most trusted advisor. But, behind the vizier’s facade of charm and loyalty, there was only a burning hate for the sultan who believed in him. The vizier wished to be the most powerful man in the kingdom, second to no one. So to be told he was second, straight to his face, would be like a slap. You watched as Jamil turned to the guard with a deep frown, and you could only whistle, “Who’s in trouble now~?”
Jamil turned to face him fully, staring at the guard beneath him with such a piercing gaze before questioning firmly, “Do you believe second is enough?”
Without hesitation, they nodded, the answer to them was obvious. “Yes. You were not born to be sultan, you are not of royal lineage. His Majesty, Kalim Al-Asim, was born to be sultan.”
Kalim Al-Asim. So that was the sultan’s name. The mere sound of it was enough to tick off the vizier, he narrowed his eyes and began to speak in a quiet murmur, “Do you know that I’ve served him my entire life? From the day I was born, they dictated that I was a servant to him and they chained my entire existence so it depended on him.” Slowly he stepped forward, inching closer with every word he spat like venom. “You have no idea of the things I’ve been forced to do for him. The sacrifices I’ve made and blood that’s stained my hands, the bodies I’ve buried and times I’ve watched him be praised for his minimal efforts I can easily best.” The closer he got, the more frightened the guard appeared until he was right in front of them. “Everyone will one day learn that I am not worthy of a mere second place, I am supposed to be first. That’s why I need the lamp, and I no longer need you––!”
Right before your eyes, you watched as Jamil swiftly struck him with the bottom of his staff and he fell backwards into a well. A seemingly bottomless well, because you heard his scream growing distant until an unsettling silence lingered. You covered your mouth in shock, but Jamil paid you no mind. It’s as if he’s done a dozen times before, as if you had witnessed all of them before.
After a moment, he sighed and lowered his staff, regaining his composure to cover up for the anger that slipped through in that moment. Again, in a flash, he had a stoic expression as he turned to gaze at you in the corner, when he beckoned you closer with a motion of his finger. “Come here, my vassal. It’s time for a meeting with that irritating sultan.”
Now you were on your way to meet the sultan. Kalim. You hoped he wasn’t anything like Jamil. This vizier was to be feared, but at least he didn’t seem to mind you. So you probably won’t be pushed down a well anytime soon. As you followed him when he began walking, he questioned abruptly,
“What did you do while I was gone?”
This wasn’t good. You weren’t here for that long before he returned, and you got the feeling that Jamil was a particularly observant fellow judging by how he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “That royal brat confronted me while I was eating. They’re so annoying.”
“Ah, Prince Jaseer?” Slowly he nodded, as if agreeing with your words. Phew. You were doing alright, fitting the role just fine it seemed. “Annoying would be putting it lightly. He’s just another entitled royal born with a golden spoon in his mouth, an ignorant person who knows nothing of how the real world works.”
“You’re telling me. The guy made me bow and recite a greeting like I was nothing but a pleb beneath him! Then he had the gall to say I was lazy! I was eating! Can’t a person like me eat in peace once in a while? I was starving!”
By now you were in a better part of the palace, where you were once again surrounded by riches. Upon hearing your response, Jamil replied without hesitation, “You are lazy when I’m not around.” At his remark, you stared at him incredulously as he continued with zero reservations, “You are uncaring, murderous, deceitful, aggressive, cunning, and annoying.”
Unable to help it, you snapped back in reply, beginning to rant and list off your fingers. “ME? Look in the mirror bud, you just basically described yourself! You’re cruel, immoral, narcissistic, power-hungry, sadistic, and secretly deranged! You’re two-faced, snake!” When you looked over to him, he still had that stoic expression but he rolled his eyes. Your jaw dropped. There was no way he just fucking––
“You used that insult, two-faced snake, two weeks ago.” Before you could add anything more to the growing pile of insults, he lightly tapped your forehead with the cobra head of his golden staff, appearing unbothered. “Come up with something else or get on my level, then you can talk back. For now, be quiet. We’re nearing where Kalim wanted to meet us. I don’t need to remind you to be on your best behavior around the sultan.”
Rubbing your forehead, you glared at him and mumbled, “Oh, I’ll come up with something shocking, you sorry sack of––ACK!” You coughed, bending over in pain as he quickly jabbed the end of his staff against your stomach to shut you up just before a silk curtain separating the halls from a room opened up.
“Jamil! Oh, and your vassal too! I’m so happy to see you guys! You’re just the ones I wanted to see!”
#yandere#kalim al asim#jamil viper#twisted wonderland#twst#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#twst writing#work in progress#damnation twst au
872 notes
·
View notes
Text
"A Prayer On His Lips, A Hail Mary in his Hips (Formerly 'Forgive, Me Father') PART 3!!
So, it's been a hell of a week since I uploaded part 2, and I just gotta say, I've really been enjoying getting back into the Tumblr scene and enjoying being a fangirl again and not actually being ashamed of it! I've been so much happier lately writing something I'm passionate about, and my Fiancé is happy that I'm comfortable enough to write my dumb little heart out every day. I've written somewhere around 30k words in the past month, and that's way more than I've written in the past, so from the bottom of my heart, thanks guys. I love your support, and your love for my fics. I have another one in the works too, but I don't know when I'll put it out yet.
Anyways, I had actually named this story "A Prayer on His Lips, a Hail Mary in His Hips" but forgot to name it that when I posted the first part. So, without further ado, Part 3!
Info: 4900 words long, ABSOLUTELY NSFW, enjoy and let me know if you'd want a part 4!
Is that was I am, Father? A lost, wayward lamb?” I asked playfully, still seated before him. The sun had shifted in the sky, filling the room with golden rays trying to catch a peek at us, basking in the sins of the flesh.
“Y’are,” he mumbled, smirking. “But I like that a lot, it makes me want to teach ya things. I want to show you The Shepard, it makes me want to bring ya to the herd. I wanna see you every week, kneeling before the cross, before me as I deliver flesh to your pretty lips again.”
“Oh, you’ll see me kneeling Father. I’ll be in the front pew, kneeling just like this,” I motioned to myself, perking up as his gaze freely wandered up and down my body, “Praying for the sins I’ll want to keep committing.”
His eyes lifted to mine again, a grin growing on his face as he came down from his high. His hand came off of his thigh, lifting my chin to meet his face. His fingertips were gentle on my chin as he brought my nose to his, the tips gently touching as he whispered. “You’re gonna be the best little Catholic girl, and I’m gonna be the biggest sinner for you, babe. He, He knows temptation all too well, and he should know that since I’m a man, just a human on the earth he’s crafted with his own fingertips,” His fingertips shifted on my chin to accentuate his point, “I will inevitably sin again. I will repent for the original sin for the rest of my life, but there is more to life than begging for forgiveness over and over again.”
I noticed as the accent he had developed after cumming down my throat slipped away, leaving me to hear the Catholic Preacher again, rather than the needy servant who desired more. I, desired more of that accent, the blissful state he was in when I had my lips wrapped around him, I wanted to see who he’d be with his godly cock pressed into my stomach, that warm feeling of him spilling into me for the first time. That was something Catholics were known for, right? No protection?
“There is so much to life outside the church, Father. I’ve seen the most beautiful things travelling, things you deserve to see too. But, I’ve discovered something that has made me want to begin coming here.” I could feel my breath bounce off of his face and back to mine, our noses still grazing each other. A few stray hairs from his mustache tickled my lips. “I found something to worship.”
“You have, huh?”
“Father, until you show me there is a God, I’m gonna be worshipping you, Each, little, inch of your skin, I wanna taste like communion.”
He pulled away sharply, his chest rising and falling with each hearty breath. “Me, huh? You wanna taste me, worship me like I’m the Holy Father himself? You don’t know what you’re going to do to me...”
“Yes, Father, I do. I want to wrap that rosary around my hands again, and kneel at your feet while I praise you...”
His eyes shifted away, staring at the crucifix hanging on the wall. “ I need you, Y/N... I need you in the ways that are condemned for a man who is married to the church... As the head priest, I have to hold an image for the congregation, to keep them from being led astray. You, you’ve made me break my vows...” His fingers moved to the sides of my jaw, pressing in sharply. “ That is a sin only you can repent for... I’m damned for eternity.”
His tone had changed to something more serious, something unsettling. There was an anger in him that was brewing, yet he held it at bay. I feared more at the control he had over his own emotions than what he was going to do about them. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to come here to have you break your vows. I just, I wanted to find an answer to my problems.” His fingers kept pressing into my jaw, his other hand moving now to wrap around my head once more.
“You’ll need to give penance, you wayward babe. You’ll confess at the front of the church, kneeling on the steps of the altar. Only then, can I begin to give you any sort of absolution for what you’ve done to me.” He released his tightened grip on me, swiftly walking to his computer and turning it on. His hearty stride shook the room as I sat in front of the loveseat still, worried for what any of this meant.
“The Lord, he teaches us about not exacting revenge, the he does not need man to have vengeance, to fight eye for an eye.” His computer chimed as he logged in, moving to some program on there. He opened the application, and I watched as the surveillance system for the church was pulled up on the screen.
“What are you talking about?” I asked hurtfully, lost in his ramblings. “Revenge? Because I made you break your vows? I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to.”
“He asks us to turn our cheek, to love them with all of our merciful heart,” he continued. “Revenge is motivated by the anger, the pain and fear of man. However, justice is motivation through the heart of His.” The cameras all went black with a few clicks of his mouse. “I want to exact revenge, to break you as you’ve broken me. I’ve learned though, to both love and feat The Holy Father. I need to show you the same love, and fear for me.”
I turned around to fully look at him, trying to understand his preaching still. “Father? I don’t know what you’re trying to say. What do I have to do?”
He shot up from his chair, striding back over to me. “You need to repent for your sins, and be a good girl for the church. You’re going to the altar right now to repent.” He leaned down, grabbing my arm and helping me up. “You’re going to repent for your sins, Y/N, and I’m going to be giving you absolution.” He was gentle with his grasp, but rushing me. I stood up, standing toe-to toe with him. His naked frame loomed over me, his chest heaving with each breath, his throat pumping with each gasp.
“Like this?” My breath fastening. He wanted me to go the altar, no more clothed than the day I was born, to repent for my sins?
“Yes, Now,” He growled, He snarled, his teeth showing as his insatiable eyes ran up and down me. “You’re going to worship The Father, beg him for salvation, beg him to give you what you need.” He reached other and grabbed his crucifix off of the loveseat. He swiftly picked me up, cradling me up to his chest, his sweaty musk mixed with his cologne, completely encompassing me in his holy fury.
He opened the locked door, pacing into the empty hallway. “You remember how to pray?” He asked, his footsteps hitting the ground faster.
“I’m pretty sure I do, Father,” I replied, my heart beating out of my chest. My senses heightened as we moved to the entrance to the sanctuary, the heavy wooden doors were closed.
“Good, because you’re going to be quizzed on it, and I’ll be grading how well you do.” He reached out his arm that held my knees for the handle, gently opening the doors to the darkened sanctuary, where we first had met in the confessional booth no more than an hour or two earlier.
The sanctuary was dark, the only light came pouring in through the stained glass motifs, gently illuminating the pews and altar. There was something so sacred of seeing the place of worship in the darkness, knowing not too many people go to see the Holy Father like this. The colors through the stained glass glazed the floors, the podium, the cross at the back of the altar: it took my breath away. Father Schlatt moved suavely down the pews, his body almost floating with delicacy as he honored the holy space, like he’d done for years prior. He held my body close to him again, his reverence for his place of reverence flowing out of him He stoically walked to the altar, softly whispering prayers.
He gently kneeled at the altar, letting me out of his arms. I moved to stand up, longing for his touch now, again. It felt wonderful being held so close to him, how his warm body wished to protect me, even after what had transpired. I had ruined this man’s vows to God, and yet he was gently with me, through gritted teeth.
“Kneel, right here,” He spoke. He was stern, yet the disappointment I had expected to hear in his voice was gone. “Face the cross, and pray out loud. I want to hear you beg for forgiveness, beg The Father to save you.”
“Yes, Father.” I quivered, kneeling next to him. I pressed my knees into the carpeted step, and moved to clasp my hands in front of myself, picturing how his hands were earlier. I kneeled my head, reciting the prayer. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name.” Fuck, after this, the prayer gets blurry. I remember the sound of the locking door, the sound of him gracefully kneeling before me, between my legs..
“Keep going,” He stood up, leaving me alone at the altar. I heard him move behind me.
“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, as on earth, as in Heaven-“ SMACK. A sharp pain shot across my back.
“On Earth, as in Heaven,” He growled.
“On Earth as in Heaven.” My back grew hotter where he had struck it. “Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us.” I closed my eyes tightly, bracing for the sharp pain again. When it didn’t come, I raced to continue through the prayer. “Forgive us, our trespasses-“ SMACK. The searing pain shot through my back again, causing me to shoot out a small cry. I felt the tears welling behind my eyelids.
“You only say ‘Forgive us’, one time. ‘Give us, this daily bread, and forgive us, our daily trespasses.’”
“I-I’m Sorry Father, Forgive us, our daily trespasses.”
“Good girl. Keep. Going.” He loomed behind me, the mere presence of his tall figure, now whipping me, scared me... yet I felt that he was punishing me in a way that excited him. I could only picture him standing tall, cock hard, the tip pressed against the trail I ran my tongue down, I needed more. If I had to put up with the pain of him whipping me, so be it. I needed to see The Father, in all of his glory, in the iridescence of the stained glass, beheld by the cross.
“As we forgive those who trespass against us.” I braced again, waiting for the stinging whip, which didn’t come. “And deliver us from evil, Amen-“ WHACK. A guttural whimper left me as I leaned forward to the next step of the altar step, the now familiar pain searing across my back.
“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. You poor, little lamb.” He sternly spoke, his voice deepening. “You forgot the leading into temptation...” I could hear him shift behind me, his body dropping to the floor. “Finish the prayer.”
“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil... Amen.” I cried, the tears falling down my face now.
“Amen,” His hands moved to the my sides, as he spoke softly and soothingly against my back by the whip marks. He pressed gently kisses into them. “Good girl, you took that well. But, you forgot one thing.”
“What, Father?” I pleaded, the tears slowing down while I continued to kneel into the steps.
“You forgot what is supposed to be in your hands. How did they feel, whipped against your back?” Oh my god, the rosary.
“I completely forgot, Father, I’m sorry...” I moaned out now, the heat in their whip marks still pulsing against my back.
“Oh, you’re never going to forget them again, are you?”
“No, No Father, I won’t.”
“Good,” He grunted, his left hand, still gripping the rosary against me moved down my side, cupping my ass. The beads felt cool against my skin now, while his fingers dug into the soft tissue. “You made me break my vows to The Lord, so in return, as a justice, I need to break you. I’m going to whip you into being a good little Catholic Girl, just for me. You’re going to worship me,” His hand slid up my back to my hip, bringing it around gently to my slit. His other hand moved to my neck, pulling it up against him. My back was pressed to his chest, his rosary laden hand beginning to run its fingers up and down me, grazing my clit with each pass. I softly moaned each time he did, while his head craned down into my neck.
“You said you were going to worship me as if I was the Holy Father himself, didn’t you? Well, you’re going to be worshipping The Father now. You’re going to be using those lips for a lot more than praying.” He sunk his teeth into me, causing me to shudder and a small whimper to leave me.
“aaaaAh! Mmh, Father, yes, Yes Father” I moaned out, my clasped hands moving behind me to hold onto his thighs. I could feel the whipped skin pressed against him, the hot flesh pressed against him was tender and hurt, but it was something I was willing to embrace again, if it meant he’d be pleasing me.
“Good Girl,” He breathed out, his fingers painstakingly slow against me. I grew wetter with each stroke, his fingers finding my clit on his own accord. His middle finger slowly twitched against it as my stomach clenched and my body pulsated. My moans turned pleasurable as he brought me closer to my own orgasm. As my voice began to peak in tone, he slowed down, “Oh, Y/N, I’m not going to make you feel pleasure until I can show you what you do to me. I’m going to show you a world as if it was made just for you, like I crafted it for you with my own hands, as The Holy Father did for those who follow him.” He slid a finger inside of me, the cross on the rosary pressed against my slit as he moved his finger in and out slowly, reveling in the feeling himself.
“Father, p-p-please,” I begged, his finger exploring the inner walls of my pussy. “I need more of you... anything, please.” What the hell was he doing to me, to make me turn into such a slut for him as soon as he made a move?
“Mmph, I don’t know, are you deserving of the salvation?” He asked, his palm pressed the cross against my clit, and yet in a sick, twisted way, I was finding pleasure in it, while his finger worked on getting me wetter with its gentle rhythm, in, out, in, out. “Or should I see that you’re damned? I’m torn, I wanna save ya, but you make salvation seem so, so far out of reach when you beg like that.” Oh Christ, the accent came back.
“Fath, oh god... Father, oohhfff,” I moaned out, pressing back into him, begging for more of his touch. More, of his tantalizing touches, anything for more of him in me.
“Mmph, I think I could save ya, as for myself, maybe not. I’m already damned, so why not go all the way?” He asked, smiling as his tongue worked flicked my ear. “I think I wanna taste ya, ya sweet sinner. You’ve been so good for me, letting me whip you with the rosary, letting me tease ya with it... I’ll be wrapping it around those praying hands again soon enough. Just you wait.” His grip released on my neck, and he placed it on my hip. His other hand pulled out of me, the sensations of his teases leaving me desperate for his touch again. He moved that hand to my hip, as he picked me up with ease. “Turn around, and sit on the floor of the altar, mmkay?”
“Yes, yes Father,” The pounding in my chest echoed into my ears, as I shuffled up the two stairs to the floor of the altar, sitting facing him. I placed my hands on my knees, awaiting his next command.
“Good. Now,” He placed his hands on top of mine on my knees, “We’re just gonna spread these pretty legs apart,” His hands gently pressing into mine, while his body leaned in closer. “I’ve never done this before, but, God, I know I need to taste ya.” He parted my buckled knees apart, his mouth slightly agape as he watched me become exposed. I felt vulnerable, but safe, somehow. “You... oh, look at you,” He whispered, his right hand leaving my knee to run up and down my slit. I could feel the heat in my cheeks rising, my breath falling deeper into my chest as he slowly worked his pointer and middle finger between the folds. I threw my head back, the fire in his touch already being so hard to handle. Moans left my lips, and my hands fled my knees to the altar floor, desperately trying to hold myself up while he explored.
His left hand still pressed my knee to open, pressing it almost to the floor, antsy to keep my legs open while he worked up his own courage to dig in. His right hand moved up to his mouth, and I watched at this once holy man licked his fingers clean of the film I left on his fingertips. “Oooh, mmph, The Lord made ya so, so delicious. I need more, babe.”
Before I had a chance to catch my breath, he pressed his face into my pussy, his nose resting right above it. He began licking my folds, his right hand immediately moving to hold my right down as I tried to bring it up against his face, bucking from the sensations. I threw myself onto the floor of the altar, lost in the sensations of The Father’s Holy Tongue.
“Oh Fuck!” I exclaimed, all filter I had leaving as his tongue worked with my hips, now rocking against his face.
He pulled away, smiling deviously as he licked his lips. I watched as he caught his breath, his hands still pinning me to the floor. “I forgot, I’m sorry, I was too excited to taste you, Babe, I should’ve realized I’d be drinking you up,” He spoke sweetly, moving to bow his head, speaking just above a whisper. “Bless me, Lord, for these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy Bounty. Through you, Christ our Lord, Amen.” He snarled after finishing his prayer, the devious smile returning as his head raised, and moved back into me. I couldn’t help but whimper, his face felt so good pressed up against my slit, his tongue working to bring me to an orgasm so easily. I brought my left hand up to his hair, and pulled his head up softly. “..uhff fuck... there Baby, right there,” I moaned out, guiding his tongue to my clit. His eyes shot up to meet mine, glazed over with unbelievable pleasure. He continued to lick ferociously at my clit, and lifted his right hand from my leg, bringing it down to his mouth, and taking a quick lick across his thumb as he rubbed me right below where his tongue worked wonders.
His tongue worked tirelessly against me, bringing me closer to an orgasm, when his left hand moved off of my leg, and he moved to down to his cock, surely throbbing with pleasure by now. He groaned as he stroked himself with his left hand, his right hand and tongue focused on making me squirm. Slews of moans, pleas, and whimpers escaped me. “Fath-mmm, Fath-er... pl...please... more... mmm, my God..., so, so fucking good...” For having no experience with any sort of intimacy, Father Schlatt must have brought in his expertise from his priesthood to bring me unholy pleasure. Was it from flipping through pages of the scripture that he learned to move his fingers so precisely? Or was it from daubing Holy Water on church-goers how he learned to press just the right amount of pressure to my flesh? I tried to think as I moaned out words, sounds, anything to keep me from reaching an orgasm just yet.
I brought my thighs up to the side of his face, feeling his soft sideburns rub against my tender thighs. They rubbed softly with each of his licks. They felt almost ticklish against my skin, but I couldn’t help but crave more of their feeling against my skin while he stoked his tongue, but his pointer finger gently moved against the length of my pussy his thumb was once grazing, as he wetted his pointer finger, and slid it into me, causing me to gasp in the midst of my moans. “mmmh oh... aH! Schatt!” Oh Fuck!” I cried out, my hips sinking down into his hand.
He pulled away softly from his ministrations against me to speak out. “You taste so, so good, I don’t wanna believe that The Lord has been keeping this from me... Unless he was just waiting to bring ya to me... Maybe he made you just for me... you feel so, so perfect on my tongue, on my fingers, toots.” Toots? Okay, that’s a new one, but I... I can’t focus on that now... not with how he’s finger fucking me. “Maybe he made you just to ruin me...” He coaxed, his finger now curling inside in a tauntingly sensual way. I breathed out a sharp wail, my body burning wildly for how he teased me, how much I needed his teachings. In an instant, he learned forward, his twitching cock now grazing at my entrance, where his finger slid out. His rosary laden hand intertwined with my hand on the floor, pinning it above my head. His hips slowly moved himself against my pussy, the slow, teasing stroked causing whimpers and guttural moans alike to leave both of us.
“Father... Are you sure?” I asked. my hips however, moving against him, feeling how hot, how ready he was to fuck me.
“I, I need to.. I need to make you mine, in the eyes of The Lord.” His hips moved against mine as well. The friction was unbearable, it was too perfect to pass up the opportunity. Father Schlatt leaned down next to my ear, slowing his rhythm. “Babe, I need to pray, and I need you to pray with me. You’re not gonna know the words, but close your eyes, and keep those pretty little moans quiet for a moment, ‘kay?”
“Mhmm,” I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut and gripping his hand tighter.
“Hail Mary Full of Grace, The Lord is with Thee.” His breath grew hotter against my skin. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of the womb, Jesus.” His tongue grazed my earlobe, he gently nibbled on it. His hand that stroked his cock stopped, instead it began pressing the tip to my now slick entrance. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, in the hour of our death. Amen,” He finished the prayer quietly, taking a second to listen to my breaths.
“Amen,” I spoke gently, opening my eyes to meet his. His mouth was still open from his prayer, his head gently nodding at his subconscious request. I nodded back, my lips parted too from my final “Amen.”
He pressed his hips forward, the tip of his cock paving the way for the rest of his shaft to enter me. He was slow, merciful, yet he shot daggers through my eyes, while his fingers tightened around the ones he laced them with, pressing the beads into my hand. All breath escaped my chest as I felt him penetrate me, being gentle as to not overwhelm himself. I whimpered, attempting to savor the gentle movements. Every nerve ending was on fire, begging for his length to keep pushing, to keep moving, to keep the friction going. He pulled his cock mostly out, leaving just the tip in, and slowly worked himself back in, pressing farther in this time. He kept this slow rhythmic torture up until he found a pace where he could control himself.
With each thrust, I couldn’t help but whimper, the feeling of him stretching me was so, so fucking good. His body was ragged; sweat poured down him as he refrained from racing, savoring each sinful moment. “You, you feel so good,” He groaned “too, too good. God I’m gonna, I’m gonna... if I go any faster,” His hand had moved to my hip, gently guiding me back to his with each of his pulsing thrusts.
“F-Father, you, you feel so good, too,” I whimpered, taking each of his thrusts, feeling his cock deep in my belly.
He continued his painstakingly slow pace, driving me crazy as his he focused his energy into keeping his mind busy. “Babe... you.. oh, oh God..” he cried out, his hand gripping deeper into my thigh, almost tearing through my flesh as his fingernail dug in deeper. “I need... more... of you...” He pleaded, his thrusts still slow, yet slamming into my hips eagerly.
His thrusts into me were calculated, his own body pressing his need further into me as I craved every inch of him. “Mmm, Baby, you feel so fucking good in me,” I cried through gritted teeth. My hand embraced the press of the rosary beads into it, the feel of him learning how to make love, I felt high on his lust, and still grounded by his religion. I looked up at him to see his once pomaded hair was strewn, stringy with sweat, and was moving into his eyes, bouncing with his rhythm. He gazed into me, his mouth parted, as he crashed into my lips for a searing kiss. Our tongues mingled frantically as his pace continued slowly, steadily.
I moved our hands from above our heads while we tangled tongued, bringing his rosary laden hand to my clit, and pressing his fingers into it, mimicking the motions I would use to please myself. I couldn’t help but realize, the he was such a fast learner, pressing his thumb against my clit and teasing it fast while his thrusts moved faster. “Baby, fu-uck! You’re gonna make me cum on you,” I pleaded, torrential wave of pleasure flowing through me with each flick from his thumb.
His hips slammed into mine, as I reached my own orgasm on his cock, clenching down on him, and feeling everything on a high. His cock felt hot in me, my belly warm, my clit tender and spent, and my legs were shaking. I couldn’t focus on anything past his head being thrown back, and the feeling of hips pressed against my inner thighs. His guttural moans and the sight of him were through tunnel vision as my mind grew fuzzy. Did he say ‘pussy’? Wait, did he cum in me? Oh... well... fuck... fuck it felt... good...
He looked at me as he continued to hasten his pace, his breaths growing more erratic. His eyes shot right through me, his gaze darkened and fully corrupted. “God, your pussy was made just for me... He made it just for me to ruin myself- in- Mmmhh,” He grunted, I couldn’t tell anymore what was throbbing with each stroke, I could only focus on the clenched muscles in my abdomen, on yhe brink of an orgasm like no other I had felt before. “I’m gonna ruin you too,” he blurted out, looking down at his thumb, steadily torturing me, and pulled his thumb away for just long enough for himself to spit on my clit, and race to work his spit in while his cock swelled. His body tensed while his moans grew audibly. “I-mmh-aah-aaahh,” He moaned out, practically yelling by the end of it.
His fingers held onto my hips as he slowly pulled his spent cock out of me, his entire body convulsing in waves as his tip entered the cooler air again. “Oh God... oh Christ, anyone... oh whoever is up there,” he moaned, his words lingering through the drawls escaping him. He fell forwards onto the altar floor next to me, recovering from him pleasuring me too. “Thank you,” He moaned out. All I could do is smile, looking at the heap he fell into next to me. The gentle sunlight refracted off of the cathedral glass to glaze over him with soft hues of blues, reds and greens. We laid there for what seemed like an eternity, catching our breaths, the thought of our damnation never once crossing our pleasured minds.
#chuckle sammy#chuckle sandwich#jschlatt#jschlatt smut#schlatt x reader#priest corruption#priest schlatt#jschlatt fanfic#schlaggot#schlatt#a prayer on his lips#a hail mary in his hips#schlatt x y/n
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Arc-V 10th Anniversary Cafe (April 2024)
Why can i only upload 10 images per post on the app sigh
I went twice, because the menu changed halfway!
Actually it was prohibited to take photos of the projector screen for some reason (I don't get it, because it's the same art on the merch) but ummmm let's just keep it between ourselves okay
My first visit was near the end of the first menu, so seats were readily available! (We don't talk about when I was like oh maybe I'll go today- oh fuck what do you mean there's no more slots oops guess ill go tomorrow)
When I went in at 6.30pm it was pretty empty, and since I was first in the queue I got to choose where I wanted to sit! And of course I made a beeline to...
While waiting for my food, of course I had to hit up the gacha (do not recommend, highly do NOT recommend) They had a bunch (think like 50-100 of those blind packs all stuffed into a basket and you do choose it yourself, but.....
You can only buy a maximum of 10 per type, and I was mainly looking for just the pawnies, though I was also looking for some of the others for friends...............
... I love Running Reiji because he's a reference to the manga, which I love dearly, but holy hell after his 3rd appearance I was feeling. something. The way I spent $[redacted] on these and I got only 1 out of the 4 I wanted (also how cruel is it that I got everyone in Group B except for hayaku yuri, damn
Halfway through the packs the Reiji drink (an iced sweet potato milk drink) i ordered arrived! and it came with a random novelty item like every item on the menu (Why is everything in Japan gacha. Just kidding I know the answer its the goddamn c word) and I got Reira! Very happy because she's one of my faves and she is so mega cute here
Anyway food's here!
The amount of pasta looks little because i only remembered to take a photo midway (was too depressed over my pulls when I started eating)
I was STILL unboxing the blind packs when it arrived and when I say do not gacha it's because the number of repeats was already getting to me and by the time I finally got around to my pasta it was already lukewarm...
It was alright, it was just a cream pasta (I think I was supposed to pour the lemon juice onto it maybe?)
Me when I consume lemons me too yugo so true
At the end you get to choose (yes CHOOSE and not gacha holy shit) a bromide of your own choosing for every 5,000 yen you spent (I guess that's why, because at that point you've already given them so much money the least they could do is to let you choose the little png to take home) took multiple of the yus so I can send them to friends!
Part 2 after I see if the airport gift shop has chiikawas...
63 notes
·
View notes