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tornadoyoungiron · 1 year ago

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TRAINTOBER | DAY 19 - Revolutionary

Gordon discovers that he has a cousin who is electric.

~~~

“Don’t be preposterous!” Gordon sniffed as he gazed at the large black A4 Pacific before him.

Said A4 Pacific just chuckled in response.

“You have my word of being named after Sir Nigel Gresley himself,” the engine declared but Gordon just humphed in response.

“You’re in league with my brother, playing tricks on me as usual,” Gordon scoffed.

Sir Nigel frowned and gave Gordon a hard stare of disproval. Had he been an engine that actively worked on the mainland and knew well of the structure of their leadership system, Gordon would have faltered but Gordon was not of the UK’s mainland.

“You can try and intimidate me all you like, but I will not fall for one of my brother’s hair-brained schemes!” Gordon scoffed at him and Sir Nigel just stared at him dumbfounded.

“You really have no idea what happened on the LNER do you?” The A4 Pacific considered, shocked.

“I was on the other side of the country on an independent Island, why would I?” Gordon blustered and Sir Nigel seemed to relax and accepted the A1 Pacific’s reasoning.

“I suppose you have a point,” he accepted. “But you have my word that I am not engaging in the foolishness that your brother does.”

Gordon frowned but said nothing.

Sir Nigel Gresley had designed an electric engine? How utterly ridiculous! He’d never heard of such rubbish! Still, he didn’t know this A4 all that well and the only other two he knew were complete, well, one could have less than appealing words to say about either of them. Especially Bittern.

Sir Nigel seemed pleasant and had been nothing but proper and gentlemanly, much like a true express engine should act. And so, Gordon considered his options.

“Prove it,” he dared the A4 and Sir Nigel just gave him a humble smile.

“But of course. But for that we’d have to make our way back to the National Railway Museum,” Sir Nigel informed him. “Would you care to double-head with me, my good fellow?”

Gordon was taken aback by the courtesy.

“Why, of course!”

~~~

“The Class 76’s held a strange place on the LNER I must say,” Sir Nigel explained as they neared York. “Most of us weren’t sure what to make of them. They were Gresley’s yes, but they weren’t Steam Engines and so they wavered on the line of being ridiculed and respected.”

“I didn’t think Sir Gresley wanted to dabble with anything other than Steam!” Gordon huffed. “The man I knew wouldn’t have anyway!”

“Times change and people must adapt to them,” Sir Nigel refuted. “Sir Gresley was always experimenting, always wanting to improve upon what came before. It was inevitable really that he would turn to more officiant ways of transport.”

“But to abandon steam!” Gordon croaked out horrified.

“Oh no!” Sir Nigel quickly assured Gordon. “He always thought of Steam as a viable competitor. But it was him who pushed for the electrification of the LNER. It was he who pushed for a national plant where engines could be proofed instead of going to France. He was a revolutionary man in more ways than one, but he never, not once forgot his roots.”

Gordon was silent for a long while.

It made sense, all of it did. Sir Gresley was the type to look for constant improvement, constantly trying new ideas, not being afraid of suggestions and considering alternatives. Maybe Sir Nigel wasn’t trying to trick him. Maybe he spoke the truth.

“There were 58 of the Class 76’s made,” Sir Nigel explained. “Thirteen of them were named and named for Greek Gods.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t birds,” Gordon snorted and Sir Nigel just gave a soft hum at that.

“Only one remains as an exhibit, although parts of others also remain,” Sir Nigel ignored Gordon’s comment. “Would you like to meet them?”

More and more Gordon began to believe the A4 as they drew into the museum.

“Wait, I recognise this place, isn’t this-”

“This used to be the York Locomotive Depot,” Sir Nigel explained with a smile. “A familiar home to many a LNER engine.”

“I didn’t know it got turned into the museum let along the National Museum,” Gordon breathed as he gazed around at the place. “It’s… so different.”

Sir Nigel did not say anything, simply allowing Gordon to reminisce on the past until they reached a strange very box-like engine with a black polished livery with red lining and yellow lettering, almost like an LMS engine.

“Gordon, may I introduce Darnell, he is the Class 76 I was telling you about,” Sir Nigel introduced the engine and Gordon stared at him with a critical eye.

“Ah, you another one that doesn’t believe I’m a Gresley now do you?” Darnell gruffly accused and Gordon frowned.

“Well, you definitely sound like a North East Engine,” Gordon muttered.

“Ay ay, look down here,” Darnell invited the Blue A1 Pacific to look at something and Gordon glanced down at the placard before the electric engine. “Those are my designs yes? Look at em! Really look!”

With a frown, Gordon did as the engine asked but then gave a gasp as he saw the signature down the bottom.

Sir Nigel Gresley.

Gordon’s face turned red and he glanced at his A4 companion in embarrassment. He’d been right after all.

“I owe you an apology,” he confessed and Sir Nigel simply gave him a kind smile.

“You have no need to Gordon,” he praised his elder cousin. “Though, keep that suspicious eye on your brother. He does tend to be rather… childish at times.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Gordon chuckled in turn.

~~~

Sir Nigel Gresley and Sir Nigel Gresley

#ttte fanfic #traintober #traintober 2023 #ttte gordon #real railway #ttte sir nigel gresley #ttte young iron #ttte

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jamesholden · 2 years ago

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you mako me crazy

fandom: Mass Effect (ME3) relationship: Sionainn Shepard/Kaidan Alenko (fShenko) rating: T, to be safe tags: Kissing ; Plus-Sized Shepard ; Fluff author’s note: did some tweaking and editing to the prompt i posted for @rocicrew, who asked for "kisses to distract from what they're intently doing" with Kaidan and Sion to better post on AO3. You can see what she looks like/a picture of what I imagine her body shape to be here. Just some cute ME3 boyfriend and girlfriend action. Please enjoy, and leave a review on ao3 if you can! also posted to: ao3

It had been an hour since she'd told him she'd be right over. She'd been working on that damn model for hours more on top of that.

"Just this one section, K. I'll be right over."

Kaidan sighed from his spot on her bed. He'd long discarded shirt and pants. The more time went by, the more hopeless the idea of doing anything but going to bed became. So, he'd made himself comfortable. Contented himself with lying on his back and gazing out the viewport on the ceiling. The stars could only fascinate him for so long. His patience started to run thin and he began to feel the chill of the room and the losses and irritations of the day started rolling around in his skull until all he wanted was to snuggle up with Sion and kiss her silly until he forgot anything that wasn’t her and she forgot what a Mako even was.

Not that she ever would. She'd loved that goddamn thing.

Groaning with the effort, Kaidan pushed himself up onto his hands to look up at Sion at her desk. He could just see her through the display case, face turned down on her work between the Turian cruiser and the Flotilla ship. The tip of her tongue peeked out between her lips, a sign of her focus that always made Kaidan smile. It was human. It was cute. It made him want to kiss her more. He glanced at the clock. She'd feel terrible if she found out he waited up on her and hadn't said anything. There was enough on her plate without something so insignificant bothering her.

There was only one thing to do then. And Kaidan was, after all, a man of action.

He was up and climbing the stairs before he could even think about feeling bad about it, and the sight of her made him draw up short. One leg drawn up under the other in her desk chair, Sion sat forward, elbows resting on her desk as she slotted one piece into another. She was lit only by her desk lamp. Her hair—just long enough to brush her collarbone now— mostly drawn over one shoulder. It was the longest he'd ever seen it; she'd probably cut it soon. Shame. But Kaidan's favorite part? She was wrapped in his blue hoodie and her sleep shorts, pale legs and thick thighs nearly entirely exposed to his eyes. She hated that in public most days. Hated drawing attention to parts of her body that drew scorn from others. Only Kaidan got to see her like that regularly. Not even just her casual dress, but relaxed in her work. Focused on something she loved and could control, rather than the war and people she had to wrangle like cats to get along to win said war. Sionainn was so beautiful. It took his breath away.

He nearly forgot the purpose of his mission. Only for a moment, though. Without his boots, his uniform, she didn't hear him coming. With her attention so focused on her project, she didn’t perceive much of anything around her. So she was completely taken by surprise when he placed one hand on the nape of her neck as the other took her jaw in his hand. When he bent down as he tilted her head up and caught her mouth with his. He relished the soft, shocked sound she made against his lips. After another soft sound—a little laugh this time—Sionainn melted, and kissed him back. Kaidan felt her fingers seeking out something of him to grab, but upon discovering the lack of things, she settled with resting her hand on his hip.

When they broke apart, her eyes fluttered open to find his. A shy smile said enough. "I lost track of time." It wasn't a question. She already knew. Guilt rested in the twist of her lips. The thing he was trying to avoid.

"Yeah," Kaidan confirmed anyway, thumb brushing over her jawline. "It's okay." It was. The thin patience, the long minutes, the cold bed, it didn't matter now. It didn't feel right making her apologize for it. Not with her dreamy gaze on him, looking at him like he'd hung the stars just for her. Not when she could finally shake off some of the weight of the galaxy to work on a vehicle model. "Sorry if I startled you." He wasn’t, but it felt like the right thing to say

Sion blinked, and her smile turned mischievous. "Oh, do not apologize, Kaidan. You're free to snap me out of it like that any time you like." The last few words came out a purr. Her nails teased along his waistband, and he shivered. How very like her to turn the tables on him. And she noticed, her smile widening. "I've spent enough time not kissing you." Three years gone. Too much time not kissing him. He could fix that.

"In that case..." Kaidan closed the distance again, and Sion happily met him halfway. They kissed until Kaidan's neck started to ache and Sion nearly fell out of the chair trying to get closer. He caught her, like he always would, and they laughed as he helped her to her feet. She pressed close, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes as she wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug. It was easy to forget how much shorter she was, when she was in armor or uniform. When she was taking on politicians and mercs and husks and Reapers. She could fit her head right under his own chin. A perfect fit. He gave her another kiss, felt her press up onto her toes so he wouldn’t have to lean as far.

It was everything he always wanted.

"Permission to distract you further, Commander?" he murmured against her lips, brushing some of her auburn hair behind her ear.

Sion leaned into his touch, hummed. "Take me to bed, Major. Consider the Mako forgotten."

Kaidan did just that, scooping her up—to a delighted peal of laughter—and carrying her to their bed. Something she loved and treasured, something she’d once confessed she thought she’d never get from a partner. It had just given him more motivation to get stronger, to hear that joyous laugh from her lips. So he could swallow that happiness when he caught her mouth with his.

He made damn sure she didn't think about that stupid model for the rest of the night and long into the morning.

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #Sionainn Shepard #shenko #fshenko #mefic #shanfic #sionainnfic #repost

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atths--twice · 3 years ago

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Periods of Pain

It’s been a bit of time since I’ve posted a story. Hope you are all doing well and you enjoy this one. ❤

Waking from cramps and pain, Scully discovers she does not have any tampons, prompting a need to go out in the middle of the night. Or does she…?

March 1998

Rolling over, waking from a restless sleep, Scully groaned as her stomach clenched and she drew in a sharp breath. Moaning, she placed a hand on her stomach and pushed the covers back with the other.

Turning on the light, she squeezed her eyes shut for a second, opening only one in the brightness. Letting out another breath, she opened her suitcase and began to rummage through it. Every pocket was searched, but she did not find what she needed.

“Shit,” she whispered and went into the bathroom to look in her toiletry bag, but fairly certain she would not find them in there either. A quick search showed her thoughts were correct… no tampons.

Another pang in her stomach and she gripped the counter top with a deep moan, breathing in slowly through her nose and letting it out through her mouth. There was ibuprofen in her bag, only four, and she took all of them, drinking them with a handful of water from the bathroom tap.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and used the toilet, knowing what she would find and sighing bitterly when she did- her period. Her body’s cruel reminder that she may menstruate, but it would forever be in vain.

Cursing as she wiped away angry tears, she finished, washed her hands and left the bathroom. She would need to run to a grocery store or a gas station, despite the late hour. As another cramp hit, she shook her head as she remembered that Mulder had the car keys and he was most likely asleep.

“Fuck,” she said through gritted teeth and opened her side of the connecting door, finding his slightly ajar, the room dark aside from the glow of the television playing softly.

Pushing the door open further, she stepped quietly into the room and walked over to the table, sure that was where he would have left the keys, but did not find them.

“Scully?”

“Jesus, Mulder!” she said, whipping around, a hand on her chest as she let out a ragged breath. He was staring at her, his eyebrows raised and hair tousled, as he scratched at his upper arm. “You scared me.”

“I could say the same,” he said with a tired chuckle, continuing to stare at her. “Did you need something?”

“Uhhh… yeah I uh… I need the car keys.”

“Did…” He yawned and stretched, shaking his head. “Did you forget something?”

“No. I just… need them. Where are they?” He yawned again and walked closer to her.

“Not on the table?”

“No, I don’t see them. Do you know where else they would be?”

“You need them now? It’s… Scully, it’s two in the morning.” He stared at her questioningly and she drew in a breath as her stomach pained.

“I am aware that it’s late. I just need them… please.”

“You got a clandestine meeting I don’t know about,” he teased with a small smile and she scoffed softly.

“No. I just… Mulder, please,” she sighed and he nodded, beginning to look around, but she knew he was still concerned.

“Tampons,” she said softly. “I need to go get some tampons.” He froze in his search and looked at her, holding her gaze until she had to look away.

“Oh… right. Um… I think… umm… I think they might be in my coat pocket.” He picked it up and she sighed as she closed her eyes, feeling embarrassed though she knew she should not.

“Here,” he said softly and she opened her eyes, looking up to see him handing the keys to her, his own eyes unreadable, as though worried to express how he was truly feeling.

“Thank you,” she whispered, taking them from him, and looking down. “I usually have some, but I guess I forgot to replenish them before we left.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. She looked up and she saw sadness in his eyes before he looked away. She felt tears prick hers and she cleared her throat.

“Well, I’ll let you go back to sleep. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“You didn’t. My bladder did,” he said with a forced smile.

“Right,” she said, forcing a small chuckle, both of them ignoring the gigantic elephant in the room. “Okay, see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said with a nod and she stepped past him. “Oh… Scully, wait a second.”

Turning around, she stared at him with a furrowed brow. He was opening his suitcase and feeling around the inside pocket, a look of concentration on his face. He took out a pair of socks and some underwear, dropping them into his case, and then turning to look at her with a smile.

“Yup, I thought they might be still in there,” he said, walking closer and extending his hand to her, presenting her with two tampons. She took them with confusion and looked up at him. “Now you won’t have to go out. That’s enough until tomorrow, right?”

“Ye… yeah. But… Mulder, why do you have tampons in your bag? The brand I use, no less?”

“Well…” He shrugged and she raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “It never hurts to be prepared, Boy Scout motto and all that.

“You weren’t a Boy Scout, Mulder.”

“Indian Guide… Boy Scout…” He shrugged again, weighing his hands back and forth. He smiled and she tilted her head, silently asking him to answer her question. With a sigh, he nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat. “I’ve had them for a while, I forgot they were there.”

“Yes, but why?”

“I could come away from this appearing like a real sensitive and caring soul, looking out for my female partner, being “man enough” to carry tampons, but…” He laughed bitterly and shook his head. “It’s only a small fraction of why I have them.” Inhaling sharply, her cramps still a nuisance, she breathed through it and kept her eyes on him.

“You had that really bad nosebleed,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “It wouldn’t stop, do you remember?” He raised his head and looked at her.

“Yes,” she breathed with a nod. Of course she remembered. She had nearly passed out because of it.

Nearly nine months ago while in his motel room, eerily similar to the one they were currently standing in, her nose had begun to bleed, dripping onto the case file in front of her, before quickly running copiously from her nose and onto her clothes. He had caught her as she stumbled to the bathroom, helping her get to the sink, the bright red drops of blood then splattering audibly against the white porcelain.

It felt as though it would never end and if he had not been there, she believed she may have died on the floor. He had caught her a second time, holding her upright, pinching her nose and murmuring to her, her eyes closed and body weak.

By the time the bleeding had stopped, both of them bore signs of it on their clothes and their person. He had washed her face, and helped to change her clothes, putting one of his shirts on her, not wanting her pajamas to become stained if it happened again.

He had wanted to go immediately to the hospital, but she had argued him down, claiming she was fine and only needed to sleep. He had relented, but barely, helping her to bed and staying beside her all night. She had woken a couple of times to find him sitting in a chair and watching her, before falling asleep once again.

In the morning she had been fine, a little tired at first, but well enough, though he had continued to keep an eye on her. It had bothered her at first, but when she remembered the sound of the blood hitting the sink, she understood and squeezed his hand briefly as they had gotten into the car.

Never again had her nose bled that badly and they had never discussed it.

“I uh… when we came home, I thought if I’d had the presence of mind, a tampon would have been the ideal thing to help staunch the bleeding. I mean, that’s its main purpose, right?” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “I stopped and bought a box, putting some in my bag once I was home, just in case it happened again.”

“And you’ve had them all this time?” she whispered and he nodded. She shook her head, tears pricking at her eyes again.

“I figured it was best to be ready. The rest of the box is under my bathroom sink.” She scrunched her chin as she let out a breath. “Well… aside from a couple in a desk drawer at the office. And also the glovebox of my car.”

“Mulder…” she breathed, licking her lips and wiping her eyes quickly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so scared, Scully,” he whispered, shaking his head, staring into her eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you. That…” Breaking eye contact, he looked down with a deep sigh and shook his head again. “That it would be there in some shitty motel room… where you… I…”

She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist, her tears falling as she let out a deep breath. She felt his arms holding her as she sniffled and closed her eyes.

God, he never failed to surprise her, leave her completely shocked by his care and thoughtfulness. Not that she did not know he cared, but the lengths to which he went, silently and unknowingly, made her ache. She held him tighter, his warmth and scent calming her.

He stroked her hair, his fingers rubbing gently at her scalp and she sighed, sniffling again as her breathing synced with his and his heart beat beneath her ear. His other hand running softly up and down her back was both relaxing and arousing, and she suppressed a moan before releasing her tight grip on him and pulling back slightly.

He held her upper arms and pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her softly, twice. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and pulled back further, needing to put some space between them.

“Thank you,” she whispered and he nodded as his hands moved down her arms, not breaking contact until he reached her fingers, squeezed gently, and let go.

“You’re welcome. We’ll stop and get more on our way to breakfast,” he said with a nod and she shook her head. “You’re not still going out?”

“No, but after breakfast is fine. After coffee especially,” she said, attempting to lighten the mood. He gave her a small smile and nodded.

“After breakfast then,” he agreed and she nodded, stepped back and cleared her throat.

“Thank you again,” she said, indicating the tampons in her hand and he nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Scully,” he said quietly. She turned around and walked to her room, glancing back at him as she walked through her door and closed it, though not completely.

As she went into the bathroom, she realized she still had the car keys. Setting them on the counter, she washed her hands and splashed some cold water on her face before using the toilet.

Opening the tampon, she shook her head at the injustice of it all, but mostly at the thought of him purchasing and then stashing tampons in places she would be, just in case of another emergency. His foresight had stopped her from a late night drive and the need for which he did purchase them was no longer a threat, but the need for them now was almost worse.

The cruel reminder that fruition could never happen.

Washing her hands again, she went back to bed, the light from the television in Mulder’s room faintly outlining her door. She stared at it, the sight of it comforting, until her eyes began to droop and she fell asleep.

_______________

After breakfast, through which they were both rather quiet, the previous night not discussed as they ate their food, they stopped at a pharmacy as planned. She made to get out and he stopped her.

“I got it,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door.

“Mulder, don’t be-”

“Scully,” he insisted, his hand on her arm to stop her from getting out of the car. “Please. Let me.”

“You don’t need to do that, Mulder. I appreciate you doing it before, but-” she began, but he interrupted her again.

“Please. I need to.” She stared at him and saw the sadness and pain in his eyes. Saw the hurt she had seen in January every time he looked at her where Emily was concerned. The pain when he had testified on her behalf and spoke the truth she had not expected, the burden he had carried, not wanting to hurt further.

“Mulder,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. “You don’t need to… you don’t.”

“I do,” he replied quietly, squeezing her hand with a nod. “Please.”

She relented with a final squeeze of her hand. He smiled softly and got out of the car, walking briskly into the store. She closed her eyes and massaged her forehead, tears threatening to fall, but she pushed them down. They had suspects to speak to and now was no time to cry.

He was back quicker than she had anticipated, startling her as her eyes flew open when he opened the door and sat down, a bag held in his hand. He smiled as he began to show her what he had bought. A box of tampons, a bottle of ibuprofen and one of Midol, two bottles of water, and a bag of Hershey’s kisses. Her eyes widened at the sight of it all and he laughed.

“Best to be prepared, right?” he teased, hinting at last night’s discussion even as the previous heaviness dissipated. She nodded, swallowing down the large lump residing in her throat. “Do you want a kiss?” He held the bag in his hands and shook it with a grin.

Not answering him, not with words anyway, she leaned toward him, held his face in her hands, and gently kissed him on the lips. Pulling back, she chuckled softly at the look of surprise on his face.

“I’ll take a chocolate one too,” she whispered teasingly as he stared at her. Raising an eyebrow at him, he shook his head and looked down at the bag. Ripping it open, he took one from the bag and handed it to her.

She opened it and put it into her mouth, smiling at him. His eyes traveled her face, landing on her lips, and she watched his throat as he swallowed. Shaking his head again, he took a candy from the bag and opened it, shoving it into his mouth.

Starting the car, she smiled at him, the sweet taste of chocolate on her tongue, the feel of his kiss on her lips. Squeezing his knee gently, her expression changed, hoping to convey her thanks once again. He nodded and covered her hand, interlocking their fingers momentarily before letting go, and offering her another kiss, the foil already removed.

Taking it, she smiled as she placed it into her mouth and put the car in reverse, the chocolate satisfying a craving and the man beside her soothing her soul.

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Menstrual Cramps #Period #Tampons #Caring #Late Night Discussions #Realizations #Confessions #Hugging #Forehead Kisses #First Kiss #Friendship #Love and Caring

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kimievii · 2 years ago

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was going through my painting/drawing supplies to tidy up my room a little bit and was shocked to find among the supplies two stuff I did a while back which I had completely forgot about.

The first one I was shocked to find because it was a painting of a cat which was supposed to be a present for my grand-mother. And I was absolutely convinced that I had to do the thing from scratch, not realizing the painting was already done, not entirely finished but there’s very little left to do...

The second one was even more shocking to me because it’s a... ns.f.w fanart and... I had no idea I ever drew something ns.f.w?? It’s like discovering something about my own self...

How bad is my memory exactly

#it's a le.opika fanart #so this is a few years old #I seriously have no memory wth #now I'm wondering if I drew some other similar stuff... and forgot about it #patatipatata

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docholligay · 3 years ago

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Ghost Story

Sometimes I can do things for me, as a treat!! Total universe is here for timeline

Pharah was a woman of action. When Mercy did not know what to do or say, she would pray, and while Pharah wished she had the sort of faith that could give her that strength, the only religion she had ever bent to was that of order. This was what she could do. She could clean Tracer’s nails. She could comb her hair. She could wash and dress her, and ready her to be cremated.

Others had offered, but Pharah had insisted. It would be too much for Emily and Winston, who had cared so much for her in the last months of her life. They should be permitted to simply mourn. Mercy had done the autopsy, sent out the samples to try to learn something from all this, and that had been enough to expect from her. Her family was preparing everything for her funeral. The rest of the Overwatch team had duties Pharah had assigned to them.

She would have said all of these were the reasons she had chosen to do it, but there was also the matter of care. Pharah knew that few people had her sense of perfection, her sense of drive and completion, and so it was only Pharah that could be trusted to make sure that her body was properly prepared. It was a duty, something she owed Tracer, to make sure her final appearance in this world was a correct one.

She smoothed the front of Tracer’s shirt. Mercy’s work had been exceptionally neat and careful, even for her, and the stitches had been so tightly spaced and small, with transparent thread, her own labor of love, that you would have been forgiven for not knowing Tracer had been autopsied at all. Pharah looked at Tracer, dressed in the clothes Emily had given Pharah, washed and straightened and ready for the coffin in the corner, a cheap wooden thing Tracer had purchased herself.

She considered a moment. Something was wrong. She nodded as it came to her, and reached down, ruffling her hand through Tracer’s too-straight hair, letting the cowlicks fly up.

“You won.” She looked down at Tracer’s body, “I saved your life once, and you saved my life twice. You died with the greater score. Congratulations.”

“Saved your life once, Fareeha, in a bleeding miserable patch of desert outside Cairo. Not that I ‘ate winning, mind, but its the principle of the bloody thing.”

Pharah stepped back in what was nearly a stumble, and looked at the body in front of her. It had not stirred, still cold, and grey, the cheekbones still too sharp and sunken, eyes closed, breath still, heart stopped.

“God, but I look bloody awful,” Pharah’s entire body stiffened at the sound of it, the clear, bouncing impossibility of it, “Not to say as you didn’t do your best, Fareeha, but, you know, cor, blimey, and what the ‘ell..” A giggle.

“I have not slept well in days,” Pharah said, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, “I have been stressed. I have been jailed. Lena was close to me. I have been thinking of nothing but her.”

“And I am sorry about that, love,” Out of the corner of Pharah’s eye, a motion at her side, “But I suppose it would ‘ave been the same if it were this week or a year from now, right? Right.” The question she always asked and answered. “Sides all that, if Ang was telling the truth, and of course Ang always tells the truth, about these sorts of things, it would have been a bit of a rough go, dying that way. Maybe would have been worse memories, than me just sort of….” Pharah looked to her as she made a fluttering gesture, “fading away in Win’s arms.” She grinned. “Fareeha?” Her eyes widened.

“You are,” she took a breath,” a hallucination.”

“Right,” Tracer nodded, “you're speaking English because you don’t think I can ‘ear you. Makes sense.”

Pharah looked at her, and down at her body, and back to her. The Tracer in front of her had round, pink apples back in her cheeks, her eyes were clear and bright with no sign of pain in them, and her voice chirped and popped with joy. The blue RAF shirt she wore fit her neatly, all that muscle that had gone from the body in front of her apparently restored, and her tan corduroy pants wrinkled and straightened as she rocked on her heels.

The effect was so perfect that tears prickled in Pharah’s eyes. Her brain was a cruel thing.

“Oh, it’s all right, you big ol Turkish delight!” The hallucination swatted at her, and then launched herself onto the edge of the table where her body lay, dangling her feet, “We all die, don’t we? I always did rush things, a bit. But I’m alright now, nothing to worry about, love.”

Pharah stared down at the body, unmoving even as the unmistakable feel of her filled the room. She is dead, Fareeha. You were there when she took her last breath. You carried her body up here. You slipped off her wedding ring and gave it to Emily. Lena Oxton is dead.

“I am hallucinating.” Pharah said it like a prayer, letting it ring out against the walls.

“No you ain’t, love.” Tracer barely missed a beat. “Wish you’d all ‘ave let me just ‘ave me body dumped out the door. Seems a waste, this, even after all I saved doing it meself.” She jumped off the table and scampered around to Pharah’s other side. “‘Ave you always been able to see ghosts, Fareeha? You never did tell me that! Leave it to you, ‘ave a secret like that. I’ve nothing like that. Me thumb’s double jointed, I suppose.” She giggled and bounced, flashing a bright smile.

Pharah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Rest. All she needed was rest. And still, these mantras being true, a tear sprung from her eye, and rolled down her cheek.

“Oh God Fareeha, but I ‘ate seeing you cry. I’m only dead, love, and you’d be surprised--”

“I am not sad that you are dead.” She said, the words barely coming out.

Tracer gave a bark of a laugh. “Wasn’t expecting that. Bit ‘arsh, love, bit ‘arsh.”

“I am sad,” she gave another slow, deep breath and opened her eyes, “Because when I imagine you this way,” she indicated to her side but did not look there, “I am reminded of how very sick you became. I never told you this, when you were alive. I will not burden you with it.”

Tracer paused for a moment, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “All right love, all right, but,” She dashed around to the far side of the table where body lay, facing Pharah, “‘Allucination is all I am, right? So it’s only you talking to yourself, not burdening me with nothing, innit? And maybe you’ll feel a bit better, saying whatever it is.”

Pharah looked at Tracer, whose eyes flicked around Pharah’s face, waiting. She had a point. To refuse to say this to Tracer meant she gave her hallucination power. Her hallucination was not real, and it was only a way to cope with the loss, and so she would only be putting in words what she already knew.

Yes. This was the most logical path.

“Watching you deteriorate was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced.” Pharah nodded. “Seeing you be taken, slowly. It hurt.”

Tracer’s voice was soft, and her eyes were warm. “Could ‘ave told me, love.”

Pharah huffed and shook her head. “Yes, I should have told you how bad your dying, your suffering, your struggle, made me feel. That is a very responsible thing to do.”

“Oh ease up, Amari,” Tracer rolled her eyes, “Talked about it with Win. With Ang. Ang cried, even, god but she felt so guilty. Wish I could tell her it wasn’t ‘er fault, and she did all by me, I mean, I did tell her that, but again, right? And you and me are friends. You ‘elped me, Fareeha, and I’s feeling useless, right? Might ‘ave been something I could have reassured you over, felt better. “

“Why would I complain to you about something that is my fault?” She looked bad down at Tracer’s body, somehow seeing her dead easier than the firework in front of her.

“I do ‘ave to say that discovering you’ve been Moira O'Deodorant all this bloody time is a bit of a shock, love.”

Pharah turned away from the table, and put her hands behind her back, pacing just a little bit away, eyes flicking to the coffin now and again.

“Do you remember when we were captured? And tortured?”

“No, Fareeha,” came the annoyed chirp behind her, “completely bloody forgot about the most painful experience of me life, that ended up killing me, slipped me bloody mind, it did.”

“My mind does a very good impression of you.” Pharah shook her head and tried to take a soothing breath. “You drew her anger. You needled at her, you annoyed her. You made her furious, and so she did not hurt me as badly as she did you.”

“Alright,” she walked up next to Pharah, arms crossed, “What were you meant to do then? Die as well?”

“I could have saved you,” The tears choked in her throat again, the painful guilt that had run through her mind with every one of Tracer’s struggles, her spasms and seizures and suffering, “If I had been faster with my tongue--”

Tracer laughed. “Right, love, and if I was 190 centimeters, then. Fareeha,” She put her hand on Pharah’s elbow, and Pharah swore it felt warm, “I did what I did because I wanted to do it. You couldn’t ‘ave saved me, love, anymore than Ang could. Moira’d had it out for me for a bloody decade. Would have all ended the same, but,” she smiled, “I got to save you. And when things were ‘ard, I thought of that. She was going to kill me one way or the other, and you can count on that, but now I know Overwatch is in good ‘ands. Your ‘ands.”

“Still--”

Tracer put her hands on her hips and stood in front of her. “What you’re saying is you wish it was me felt guilty, instead of you? Not very kind of you, Fareeha, I’d be bloody miserable in your position, so you’re saving me a bit of trouble by ‘aving me die instead.”

Pharah looked at her, letting the tears fall quietly.

“I will miss you.”

“Suspect you ‘aven’t seen the last of me,” she stood on her tip toes and wiped a tear from Pharah’s cheek, “Thank you, for ‘elping with me. This, but also, the washing, the cooking, everything, when I was poorly. For ‘elping Win and Em. I love you too, Fareeha.”

“You can’t really be here.”

“Doesn’t matter, love, if I’m ‘ere or not. Makes you feel a bit better, seeing me, and let’s not worry too much about me reality. I’m ‘ere for now.”

Pharah nodded, took a deep breath, and turned around, lifting the light body into her arms, and laid the shell of what had been a strange and wonderful friend into the unstained, plain little coffin.

She chuckled as she stood up. “You spared every expense on this.”

“Bloody fucking right I did, you see how much a casket is? To be set on fire? That’s a shipping crate, it is, bought it online, ‘ad it shipped to the ‘ouse.”

Pharah roared with laughter. There was no one like Lena, in this world, and if imagining her kept her here a little longer, well, maybe she would allow herself a little belief.

#HON HON HON

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cakejots · 3 years ago

Text

this is us trying, Chapter 1 - The Beginning of an End

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

1. Older

“Well, Chaton?”

Chat stared at Ladybug as though she had grown an extra head.

“My lady, are you sure you want to know?”

“Oh come on Chat, there are at least tens of thousands of people who are of the same age. There’s no way you can figure out who I am just from that.” She leaned forward, chin on her palms and eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“Hmm, that is true.” His fingers under his chin, eyes searching the sky. “I'm turning 21 this year.”

Ladybug looked dazed for a moment before smugness took over. “So I was right about your age! Well, the age range at least.”

“Oh? And how did my lady manage to guess it?”

Ladybug slowly ran her eyes down his body before peering right back into his eyes, and she smiled innocently.

Chat barked out a laugh.

“Now guess mine!”

“Don’t need to. I know you’re in the same age range as meow.”

She raised an eyebrow and his lips curled slyly. “The same way you managed to guess my age. Do you really want me to say it? Or in this case, show it to you?”

Ladybug couldn’t help but blush. “Okay, okay. You’re not wrong, I’m turning 21 this year too.”

Chat’s child-like demeanour came back, eyes lighting up. “Okay, but now I have to know who’s actually older! Mine’s in September.”

“I'm Leo, so the range is from July to August,” she grinned.

Chat regarded her with a mixture of awe and shock. “No way… You’re actually older than me!”

“Why is this a shock to you? I am more mature than you are,” Ladybug giggled.

“I mean, yeah, but for that fact to get thrust into my face, it just feels—”

“Surreal. I get it,” she sighed blissfully.

They fell into a peaceful silence as this new realisation settled within their hearts and minds. They were finding the most minute of things to share without giving away their identities, and just this tiny, basic fact about each other was overwhelming enough.

This, was something they could experience soon enough, to be normal again and enjoy the process of courting. This, was something they could slowly discover about each other soon enough, to fall in love harder, and to fall in love all over again.

“We are so close. So so close.” Chat gazed into her eyes, took her hand in his and squeezed, much like how his heart was feeling as it was overcome with emotions.

“We are finally nearing the end of all of this.�� Ladybug pulled him into a tight hug.

2. Masks

It was over.

It was finally over.

It was a joyous day for Parisians as the supervillain who had been terrorising their city over the past few years had finally been caught and sent to prison.

It was a joyous day indeed.

But why was the atmosphere surrounding him so burdensome, just like the downpour that struck ever since he had entered the Agreste mansion?

The thunderstorm that raged above him, the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses that sat in his palm, and the face of the supervillain who was actually his father, glaring at him from a distance away with absolute despise and fury, they all seemed to be mocking him for his ill-fortune.

Of course there was no happy ending for him, even after the final battle. How could he have been so naive to believe that there was a positive outcome for him? He was the epitome of bad luck. From being chosen to be the Black Cat Miraculous holder, right down to his fate that had decided his course for him ever since he was brought into this world.

He was all alone now. His mother’s passing during his early teenage years had left an open wound in his heart. He saw the funeral happened. He cried as the ceremony went on for days on end. He was there to witness the burial of his mother. Those were definitive proof that his mother had passed. He has been mourning for his mother every year on her death anniversary.

So imagine his shock when he saw her in the basement he didn’t know existed, still as radiant and beautiful as he remembered. And to be slapped with the knowledge that his father had a hand in all of this.

He had a hand in withholding the truth about his mother’s whereabouts all this time. The truth that he had rights to. That she was well and alive but in deep deep slumber, one that she might never awake from. He had a hand in causing him so much pain, so much trauma. To be the perfect child he is to be, else he was no son of Gabriel. The direct role his father played in causing him to feel neglected, unloved, and worthless. Just so that he could play the supervillain and recruit innocent Parisians in his quest to obtain the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses.

He caused Parisians so much pain, stripping them of their right to feel what they feel. A minor slipped up from being unable to control their emotions and they became the villains for the day. He had used them for his selfish desires, to do his dirty work for him. All this for not being able to move on from the death of his wife. Not being able to accept the natural cycle of life.

And all of this had happened under his nose, but he didn’t even know. He has been living with the supervillain all his life. He has interacted with the supervillain almost daily. He has shown care and concern for the supervillain. He has forgiven the supervillain for his actions, always telling himself that he had his reasons for acting the way he did. He was a superhero and he didn’t even know.

If he had known, maybe he'd be able to convince his father to stop whatever he was doing. Maybe even prevent the current outcome of events, and even save his father from serving jail time. Some superhero he is.

He didn't know what would become of his mother, but he had long accepted that she had passed. And now, his father will leave his side, to pay for what he did.

Chat was truly alone now.

“Chaton?”

He blinked and looked over to his left. His lady was standing right beside him with concerned eyes, her hands on his left arm. The rain had lightened up considerably and he could see her as clear as day. He didn’t register her touch until he had seen it himself.

Chat wordlessly turned towards her and extended his right hand, the hand that held the two missing Miraculouses. He was expecting her to take them from him and called it a day with their habitual fist bump, but she closed his right hand and held both his hands in hers tightly and peered into his eyes.

“Chaton, are you alright?”

Ladybug cursed herself for asking the obvious. Clearly, he wasn’t feeling his usual self. The cheeky and confident demeanour he always had after the end of a battle was gone. His ears, tail, and posture seemed so deflated and depressed that he just looked like a kitten kicked hard.

She touched his face.

Chat grabbed her hand on his face and wanted to smack himself. His lady was right beside him all this time as he was drowning himself in self-loathing and self-pity. He couldn't let his gloominess take hold of her on this glorious day.

“I’m fine,” Chat showcased the brightest smile he could muster at that moment.

Ladybug worried her lips, not buying it for a single second.

“Chaton…”

He knew she wasn’t going to buy his act with the way she was watching him. Chat really didn’t know what he should do. His hand squeezed hers, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Can we go for a run, just for a while? I promised we’ll talk when we meet up again at the Eiffel Tower.”

When Ladybug didn’t respond, he opened his eyes to beg. “Please?”

Ladybug squeezed his hand before nodding and letting go, giving him a head start. Chat caught her hands before they fell completely by her side, and placed the Miraculouses within her palms. He made sure she put them away securely before jumping away. She followed him soon after, giving him the time and space he needed.

When Ladybug arrived at the Eiffel Tower, Chat seemed really nervous. She really didn’t know what made him like this, but he shouldn’t be that restless. Not of the revelations he made during the final battle and his rooftop run, and he definitely should not be uneasy about her arriving.

She extended her arms towards him. “Minou, can I hug you?”

Chat rushed to her and embraced her tightly. Her hands drew soothing circles on his back to release tension from his body, and he relaxed ever so slightly into hers.

“Okay, I’m ready to talk.” He took a deep breath to mentally prepare himself before he continued. “I-I know you’re looking forward to the reveal after the final battle. I am too. We’ve waited years for this moment. But… but can we not do that now?”

Ladybug instantly pulled back and gawked at him. To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She did not expect this at all. Yes, she totally forgot about the reveal because she was so focused on making sure he’s alright, but for him to just drop the bomb on her like that. “But—”

“I know this is a really unfair request from me,” he quickly added. “But I don’t want to deceive you. We can go on dates in our suits! So that you get to know me. All of me. How I act in and out of battle.”

He slowly averted his gaze. “And that the feelings you have for me will still be there even after our dates.”

Ladybug couldn’t believe her ears, Chat is still Chat, no matter the situation. The fact that he didn’t even include her in the proposal he just suggested made it obvious that he wasn’t even convinced himself. They both knew that they weren’t going to act any different. They’ve hung out outside of Akuma attacks, they will be the same in and out of the suit. It just didn’t make sense.

“Chat...” she pleaded.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” he sobbed and enveloped her in a bear hug, afraid that she'd run if he didn’t have a tight enough grasp on her.

Wait, what? No, no! Where did he get the idea that she’s going to leave?

“I-I can’t—”

That's absurd.

“Chat, you don’t have to explain.” Her hands continued the back rubs from before, making sure that it soothed him enough till he’s comfortable loosening his grip. She slowly pulled back and cupped his cheeks, a smile on her face. “Words are not needed. I may not understand the reasons behind your decisions now, but I trust that your heart is in the right place.”

That subtle shine in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Ladybug. “Words cannot express how thankful I am, my lady.”

“Well, then better make it up to me with the dates you promised.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Judging the look on his face, she slowly added, “Do you need more time to sort things out?”

“I don’t know. Can you stay with me a while longer?”

She nodded understandingly and went back to hugging him. Chat tightened his arms around her and breathed in her scent. Her fingers left delicate touches in its trail from his back to his scalp, knowing full well that it's a gesture he’d appreciate. Low rumbles of purring slowly filled the air around them.

They stayed tangled for who knows how long before Ladybug popped the question.

“About the masks, are you sure?”

“Yeah. We don’t drop them,” Chat said with a conviction he knew was never there.

3. Tease

It’s been a week since the defeat of Shadowmoth.

A week since Chat broke down from whatever he had experienced during that short time frame of the final battle.

A week since he had declined the reveal.

Ladybug wasn’t pleased, how could she be? She had waited 6 long years for that, ever since the day they first met and swore to protect Paris from Hawkmoth’s clutches. Well, Shadowmoth now.

It sucked. Even Shadowmoth has had development. Her relationship with Chat? Null.

No. It wasn’t fair to say that. Of course their relationship had developed. From practical strangers to lovers, they trusted each other with their lives, even if they didn’t know who the other was behind that mask. That’s some intense trust they have right there.

But still.

She was really looking forward to the reveal. They were really looking forward to the reveal.

Chat must have had a reason for what he chose that day, strong enough to throw away what he desired most. But what?

Ladybug sighed, she supposed the only thing she could do was to hope that nothing about their relationship had changed. And be there for him when he needs it, like a good girlfriend she is. Are they even a couple? The unnamed boundaries were causing her additional anxiety she didn’t need now. She guessed she’d have to talk it out with Chat and make clear where they stood.

She got broken out of her thoughts when she heard footsteps approaching her.

“Hey...”

Before she even turned around, the tone of his voice sounded so tired, as though coming here was a chore for him. He had shared with her before that meeting her is always the highlight of his day. For it to become a chore… He must be really affected by it.

“My lady?” He stopped behind her.

That wouldn’t do.

She whipped around and flicked his bell, “Hey Chaton, you’re here!”

And as if that wasn’t enough, she had the sweetest smile he has ever seen plastered on her beautiful face. Those rosy cheeks and welcoming lips upturned, and the whites of her teeth slightly visible from her smile, directed at him. So happy to see him. So thrilled for him to be here.

It shot right through his heart. He couldn’t do anything else besides fixate his eyes on her radiant and alluring face.

“Aww, cat got your tongue? Or in this case, a ladybug got your tongue?” She cooed and flicked his bell once more.

She was relieved she still has this effect on him.

“S-she definitely did.” A pink hue dusted his cheeks.

Cute.

Ladybug figured the only thing she could do was to remind him of all the enjoyable memories they had together and banish the sad ones that gripped him from a week ago. The reveal can wait. What's important was to make sure he doesn’t forget why they wanted the reveal in the first place.

She concluded upping her tease factor was the way to go.

“I’ll make sure you know that my feelings for you are real and you won’t be able to resist my charms any longer.”

“My lady,” Chat whined. He was already regretting his decisions from a week before.

Ladybug, on the other hand, was grinning. She’d accept whatever he’s willing to give. She supposed she could get the ball rolling, to begin filling in on fresh empty pages as they experience falling in love all over again. Because deep down, that is what they’ve wanted after all.

#ladynoirjuly2021 #ladynoirjuly #ladynoir #mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #ladybug #chat noir #alternate universe #light angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #this is us trying

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flowerbloom-arts · 4 years ago

Text

Not sure if anyone's made a post about this but here goes;

So I've been rewatching the Adventures of Moominpappa trilogy episodes to confirm a headcanon/thought I had about the Muddler, that being his height relative to the other members of the Oshun Oxtra. I took a few screenshots (mainly of the whole group) and here's what I gathered:

Light blue=Hodgkins/Fredrickson

Brown=Moomin(pappa)

Red=Joxter

Dark Blue=F/Muddler (including the little spine/leg skeleton I drew over him)

Red text=my commentary

Hodgkins is clearly the tallest member of the group, which makes sense as he's presumably the oldest and possibly the only actual adult in the crew.

Moomin is atleast half a head shorter than Hodgkins if we don't count his ears.

Joxter is shorter than Moomin by atleast over an inch or so if we remove his hat, which would make him the shortest of the crew but not by much, really.

And of course, Muddler, my sweet child, how bad his frEAKIN' POSTURE IS-

Assuming my approximation of his posture under all that clothing is correct (which is hard to say because I tried tracing over his anatomy and it's very wack, likely due to the artists/animators having to work with all that clothing he has) and if we remove his saucepan out of the equation, we have Muddler being slightly taller than Jox at his shortest and coming slightly taller than Hodgkins' height at his tallest.

Which is-- a little surprising to say the least, I knew he'd be atleast a little taller than Joxter and Moomin but like, being the height of his uncle? I wouldn't say I was shocked but I was rather interested.

Now, with this information in mind, what sort of thoughts and headcanons can we extrapolate from this? Well a few spring to mind personally but those are just small story ideas, a few more general ideas are:

Muddler is rather insecure about his height, thus having awful posture like 97% of the time.

Not many people realise he's actually pretty tall, relative to alot of the characters, so it would come as a surprise to anyone when he does reveal his real height for one reason or another. Perhaps even giving them a mini existential crisis.

For the people who DO know Muddler's real height, they often forget about it and whenever he does the height thing they always get a "oh -dash- I completely forgot how tall he really is"

Whenever he rummages through his tin or whatever nobody really registers his height, like at all.

Joxter still hasn't fully registered Muddler's real height, yet, as of the end of their canon journey when Moomin met his future wife.

And with that being said, have 2 little comics I based off this whole thing.

Moomin discovers how tall Muddler is, his shock reminded Muddler of why he was insecure about it in the first place.

An older Muddler talking about his height, the song lyric at the end is a reference to a song Muddler sings about himself in Moomintrollet (1969)

So that was a fun little deep dive into a very specific topic about a specific character I seem to be obsessed with. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed making it. This is honestly more for myself than anything, I'm not really looking into real measurements with this one as this is more about the relative height of the Oxtra crew, but if you can provide any info on that (your own thoughts/calculations, another Tumblr post or otherwise) I would very gladly read it.

#moomins #moominvalley #moomin muddler #muddler #the muddler #joxter #hodgkins #moominpapa #long post #comics #headcanons #rant #cartoon analysis #oshun oxtra #adventures of moominpappa

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majolishious · 5 years ago

Note

May I request the brothers taking care of a sick MC? (: 💕

Hope you like these! Please stay safe <3

【Lucifer】

You always make sure to let Lucifer know if you plan to miss breakfast, so when your empty seat remains as such, his concern grows, prompting him to leave the table to check on you - especially after his messages remain unread. He slowly pushes your door open, creeping his head around to see where you were, and his eyes fall in your bed. He’s a touch annoyed to you there, especially when he had been so worried. Lucifer was two seconds away from ripping the blanket off, until he hears you coughing, “(Y/N)? Is something wrong?”, his face and voice soften as he sits down on your bed, pulling the cover back just a touch to look at you. You certainly didn’t look too good, and your voice was rather hoarse when you did try to speak to him; so he made sure to gently shush you by softly petting your head with an ungloved hand - the cool touch was certainly welcome.

While he may not show it in his face, Lucifer is deeply worried about you, and allows himself to dote on you just a bit. He’s almost nostalgic from the times he used to care for his younger siblings when they took ill, but his concern has more to do with you being human. Even if it’s just a cold, he wont take any chances, and has a doctor summoned immediately. Once given the all clear, he relaxes a bit, and gets you to rest, making sure you have plenty of water to keep hydrated, along with medication and a cool, damp cloth. When your eyes flutter shut, he plants a soft kiss on your head, while carefully moving loose strands of hair away. Lucifer made sure to check on you as often as he could throughout the day, but he made sure you knew he was a mere call away if you needed him.

【Mammon】

It was probably his fault you got sick in the first place. He was constantly getting you caught up in his antics - from simply pulling a few pranks on his brothers, to then facing the consequences of said pranks. It was hard to catch a break, and eventually, the exhaustion caught up to you, making you rather ill in the process. The day you planned to spend inside, nursing yourself was the day Mammon had a new scheme in the works, one that required his human to help, and when you didn’t show up, he began to furiously message you, and the cryptic picture you sent him in return of the thermometer didn’t help your case, as he practically stormed the fort you had built, being as loud as he usually was, but a soft whimper brought him to a halt, “You really are ill, aren’t ya?”, his voice was low, and laced with concern. He assumes you’re on death’s door, and begins to panic, no matter how much you try to tell him it’s just a cold.

Mammon is somehow able to pull himself together, when he realises that you are indeed not dying, and like the colds even the great Mammon suffers from, you can be cured with rest, but Mammon still insists on nursing you back to health, despite his more than questionable bedside manner. He’s not the worst caretaker in existence, even offering to feed you soup personally, all while acting like it’s a chore, and it’s hard not to laugh at the faces he unintentionally makes while he feeds you - made funnier only when he begins to blush and get all pouty. He also insists that he stays in your room with you; not because he’s worried, but because his room is super cold, and he needs the warmth you’re giving off, as he wraps his arms around your from behind, keeping you nice and close.

【Leviathan】

He doesn’t even realise something is amiss at first. It’s not like he leaves his room often enough to notice when something is going on around the house, but you’ve always made sure to come to his room and watch the latest episode of, ‘That time I went for a shower and discovered a mermaid had somehow ended up living in my bathtub’. He even had the snacks and everything ready for you, but as time grew nearer, your lack of presence in his room was getting more and more worrisome, so he decided to call, and was relieved when you picked up, “Yo, normie, you know it’s starting soon right?”, he tried not to make it obvious, but he’d be hurt if you made other plans or simply forgot, “Yeah I know, I’m coming, I just don’t feel good,” you croaked in response, and Levi began to feel a touch guilty, “Ah, a-actually, just wait there,” he mumbled, quickly hanging up the phone and making the snap decision to come and see you.

When he entered your room, he felt even worse, seeing you stood in the middle, wearing fluffy and comfy pyjamas but still shivering, “(Y/N), you should be in bed!”, Levi was shocked to say the least, and quickly ushered you back into the comfort and security of your bed, nervously resting a hand to your forehead. Like Lucifer, his hand was lovely and cool against the heat of your face, but if anime had taught Levi anything, it was that you were possibly dying, and he should call an ambulance. It was hard to convince him otherwise, until you grabbed onto his hand, insisting that you only need him to stay with you. He soon stopped fretting so much, instead doing his best to help you sit up, making sure you were as comfortable as could be before he put the anime on, though you didn’t exactly get too far into the episode before falling asleep against his shoulder.

【Satan】

It’s rare for a demon to get sick, but humans are so weak and frail by comparison, so it was only natural that eventually, you would catch a cold. Despite knowing this, Satan was still pretty worried. He had only popped to your room to ask if you’d finished reading the book he lent you, after his messages went unanswered. Finding you curled up in bed, shivering was a worrying sight, but when he approached you and saw your face reddened with a fever his concern grew, but seeing your eyes flutter open as he gingerly rested a hand on your head eased his concern, as he offered you a reassuring smile. Satan knows he can’t do all that much for you, but was happy to do what he could to make you feel better. He started off by leaving you with plenty to drink, and even whipped up a potion to ease your symptoms that some of his witch acquaintances taught him.

“Sorry about the taste, I can’t do much about that,” he couldn’t help but laugh when your face twisted at the taste of the bitter potion he had presented you with, even though it worked a treat. Satan was kinder than you had ever really seen him before, as he tucked you back into bed, one hand resting on your head while softly petting you, the other holding a book he began to read aloud to you. His hand was warm, but feeling him softly run his fingers through your hair was a heavenly experience, even if it came from a demon. You didn’t focus so much on what book he was reading too you, as you ended up drifting off to sleep a couple of pages in; your soft snoring being Satan’s cue to close his book, and leave you to get some well needed rest.

【Asmodeus】

You were late coming to his room for spa night, so he decided to drop you a message, or two, or maybe six to find out where you were. Though it crossed his mind that you maybe ignoring him, as he remembered in class earlier he continued to chirp on and on about some bath bombs he bought, even with you telling him your head hurt. He didn’t think for too long, as his phone went off, signalling your response. It was a short and sweet messaging saying you were sick, and that you’d do spa night when you felt better, but Asmo wasn’t having any of it. The only ones he’d be willing to care for when sick, were Lucifer, Solomo, Simeon, and you, and he had the perfect nurse outfit he wanted to wear for the occasion; complete with a mask and gloves, because he certainly didn’t want to catch any cold.

He takes care of you surprisingly well, softly dabbing a cool, damp cloth on your face, and making sure you have vitamins, water, juice, blankets, a picture of him, and any thing else needed to aid you in getting better, even after you telling him all you need is some rest. Asmo still insists on being your nurse, while he feeds you some soup, and holds a cup of tea to your lips and helps you take sips, even though you’re perfectly able to hold the cup. The tea seemed to do wonders for you, while Asmo eased you back down into bed, tucking you in with pillows behind your back, and leaving you feeling like the bed was a soft cloud of comfort. For when you wake up, Asmo has a bath fully ready for you, and he offers to help with bathing you too.

【Beel】

Beel usually makes a habit of coming by your room on at least one of his nightly raids, and he made sure it was his first one. He didn’t say much at the time, but he noticed that you didn’t want to eat, instead preferring to go straight to bed. While he doesn’t complain about the extra food, he did think it was a bit weird. He comes into your room with a soft knock, announcing his presence by softly calling out your name, though you heard his growling stomach before he spoke. He noticed that your room was in total darkness, and assumed you had fallen asleep with a lack of response. He was content to smile and make his was to the kitchen until you pathetically croaked out his name, “(Y/N)? Sorry if I woke you,” he says apologetically, before approaching your bed. He was about to ask if you needed something form the kitchen, but as he drew closer to you, he could hear the soft sniffling, and light coughs.

He’s worried about you, and feels incredibly guilty for not noticing sooner as he places a large hand onto your head, moving his face a bit closer to yours, “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he whispers, quietly leaving towards the kitchen, with the intent of making some soup. Even though you only get one bowl as he taste tests the majority of it, it’s delicious, and he even manages to feed it to you, and only occasionally putting the spoon in his mouth. It’s hard to be mad at his puppy face as he apologises over it. He does his best to care for you, staying with you all night with his hand locked with yours, even long after you’ve fallen asleep and he can go back to bed, or the kitchen.

【Belphegor】

He only came to your room to take a nap with you, but as he stood in the doorway, watching the lump of blankets shake while coughing, he began realised it wasn’t going to be that simple. Belphie figured it would be a pain to care for you, but he couldn’t leave you alone, and came closer to the lump, slowly pulling the blanket down. An odd feeling rushed over him when seeing you at your most vulnerable; red cheeks, red nose, and glazed eyes that met his own. He offered a small smile, but his expression changed quickly when you began to cough again, “It’s okay, (Y/N)”, he soothed, while rubbing small circles on your back. Belphie was surprisingly helpful, and even allowed you to rest on his beloved pillow, with the only condition being that you didn’t sneeze on it.

Belphie usually only took care of Beel when the latter had a stomach ache, and he wasn’t too sure what to do for a human, but he managed, getting you to drink some warm tea while he gently put the Devildom equivalent of vaporub on your chest. He knew the best thing to do would be to sleep, and Belphie took it upon himself to cuddle up into bed beside you, allowing you nuzzle into his chest for the security and warmth it offered, as he softly played with your hair, humming a soft lullaby Lilith used to sing to him, which had you asleep much quicker than he could have imagined. Belphie was still determined to get his nap with you, and very quickly fell asleep too.

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sirowsky · 4 years ago

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The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Language, smut, possibly triggering for people with eating-disorders.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Reader is supposed to be recovering, but Marcus makes it difficult after discovering her powers have certain... advantageous uses.

Chapter 19

Marcus came back after lunch, to find you in Amaire’s capable hands, as they supported your sides while you went for a small walk around the bed. You’d steadily felt stronger the longer you were awake, and the more you’d eaten. You’d already gone through three breakfasts and a lunch, and you were almost getting hungry again. Healing people was apparently vastly energy-consuming.

“Hey, Amanda, I’ll take that side for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

The twin to your right stepped away as Marcus took her place, placing his strong hands around your waist and under your arm.

What the actual fuck?

“No way! There is no way you can actually tell them apart; you just said a name and went to whichever side became available.”

They all laughed at your shocked expression, and you felt so warmed and relaxed seeing Marcus smile with true joy again. How long ago had it even been since you saw that?

“If that was true, do you really think I’d ever own up to it?”

“Just get me back to the bed, before I start chewing on you.”

“You’re hungry again?”

Claire, presumably, almost coughed out, staring at you incredulously.

“Um… maybe. A little.”

“Unbelievable. How much is that now?”

She was talking to Amanda, whom had moved over to the desk to go over your chart for the day.

“After your last meal you’re up to… 8000 calories in the last 3,5 hours.”

Marcus chuckled heartily.

“Just another Tuesday then.”

“Hey, I do not eat that much ordinarily.”

“Close enough.”

You’d reached the side of the bed at that point, and you sat down slowly, before scooting further up the mattress and pulling your legs up. Marcus tucked the covers over your lower half and then sat down next to you, facing you.

“So, the inquiry went well. I don’t think they’re aiming to punish you for your actions, so much as try and make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

“It won’t. I feel horrible about it.”

“They showed me the security-footage. I had no idea you could fight like that? Mitch and Gavin are big guys, but you took them down with one and two moves.”

“During my rehab, when I asked for more physical exercises, I asked my trainer if he could show me some self-defence. He was all too happy to, and we ended up sparring a little bit almost every day. I’m not saying I’m a trained fighter, but I can pull some moves if I have to.”

“I noticed. And I have to say I like it.”

“Wait, is it actually Tuesday today, or were you just playing?”

“It’s Friday. Why?”

“I just realised I had no idea which day it is. Why am I always such a mess?”

“Hey, you’re not a mess. Shit just keeps happening to you.”

You looked down at your right hand, and the tendrils of melted skin across your palm, and Marcus’ energy shifted.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you about that, because they told me that those are electrical burns. Did I do that to you?”

“No. That fucking cage did. If I’d touched Lavagirl’s cage I would’ve burned from heat instead. But that’s what I meant when I said that your power seemed to recognise me, because later, when I was… projecting… or, whatever, I could feel your current in the frame of that cage without touching it, and it was like it welcomed me. Like it wanted me to touch you.”

He smiled a little sheepishly.

“I always want you to touch me.”

You smiled back and tried not to show just how much that excited you. With your left hand, you reached for his cheek and caressed it softly. He closed his eyes and hummed a little, somewhere deep in his throat. You loved that sound. Was there anything about this man that you didn’t love? You felt that strange and still unfamiliar feeling somewhere in your chest and gut. It crept through you until it was in your fingertips. And then it was in Marcus’ skin. You were so focused and amazed at what was happening, that you forgot to breathe. You let your hand fall away from him, and you could still feel him in your fingertips. Tracing his cheekbone, his temple, brushing over his brow and down the length of his nose. And he just sat there, eyes closed and clearly having no idea that your hand had actually physically left him, as you could see him react to your ‘touch’. You drew a jagged breath, and his eyes shot open, wondering what was wrong. You watched his expression change a multitude of times as he took in what he could still feel in his face, and your hand now by your own shoulder, nowhere near him.

“How are you doing that, hermosa?”

“I don’t know. But I can feel you too.”

He glanced over at Amaire, who were both by the desk then.

“Could you guys give us a minute?”

“Yep, gotta get some more food for this bear anyway.”

They walked out together, and you scowled a little at the food-joke. It wasn’t like you had any control over your current insatiable hunger, but you were also being overly sensitive about it, because you felt strangely vulnerable after discovering your powers. You forgot all about that, though, as soon as the doors closed behind them, because Marcus’ lips were suddenly attached to yours, devouring you like he was starving too. Just not for food. You heated in an instant, grabbing at him and pulling him down on top of you, while he searched blindly for the bed-controls to lower the head-section. After you’d already relieved him of his shirt, he found them, and once you were flat, you reached down towards his belt, while he pulled your gown up and stroked you, moaning at how you were already gushing for him. You bucked into his hand, needing more, needing him to fill you. He could feel your need, on top of his own and it drove him wild, kicking his shoes off and only just refraining from tearing his own pants to shreds, in his desperation to get rid of them. Your gown wasn’t so lucky. Knowing the strength of your desire would already have you clenching internally, he took a few breaths before he began to push into you. And as he did, both of you trembling with the sensation, his current washed off of him and into you, through every inch of your bodies that was touching each other. And your own power responded. You had no idea what was happening or how, and you couldn’t have stopped it if you’d wanted to. But, also, you really didn’t want to. You allowed this new sense to explore him, letting your arms and hands reach around his back and shoulders, holding him to you, while your ghost hands (for lack of a better description) found their way to his ass and pushed him down harder into you.

“…ah, querida… I can feel you…”

He was gasping for air with the force of his pleasure, throwing his head back as you ghosted over the backs of his thighs, massaging them as they strained to push him deeper inside you. His current increased and all the machinery started going haywire, including the bed. He quickly short-circuited it, to keep it from disturbing you, and it crashed down to its bottom setting. You took the opportunity to kiss his neck as his head was back, and then nibbling his collarbone. He grabbed your hair and gently pulled your head back so that he could kiss you, but he almost immediately broke it again when you realised that you weren’t limited to letting him feel just your hands. He growled and panted and growled again as you allowed him to feel exactly what his cock was making you feel inside. It was more than he could take, and he drove his pelvis into yours with as much force as he could muster with the limited movements that your internal musculature allowed. His hands grabbed your ass and lifted you up onto the front of his thighs as he drove into you one final time before he actually screamed out his climax, and every piece of metal in the room was thrown against the walls. Even the bed-frame crumbled underneath you. Feeling him spill into you was all it took to bring you over with him, and you curled in on yourself as your arms lost their grip around him and you grabbed the mattress instead. But your power was still active, and you could still feel him on your skin as though every inch of him was somehow in contact with you. And judging by his reaction to your orgasm, he could still feel you too. You both collapsed a minute later, when the waves finally ebbed out, and you were completely spent. Panting and shaking with adrenaline you just held each other for a long while. It wasn’t until you started feeling cold as the sweat cooled your skin, that you broke the silence.

“I… think we broke some things…”

“…I’ll pay for it. Happily.”

He grumbled his answer into the pillow that he’d crashed into over your shoulder, but then you shivered, and he reluctantly rose to his elbows.

“Is it terrible of me that I’m a bit proud of the fact that your arms are shaking right now?”

He smiled widely, and kissed you deeply before answering.

“Nothing about you is terrible. I love that you can reduce me to a trembling mess, just as much as I love that I can do the same to you.”

You smiled back, but then frowned when he pulled out of you. He noticed.

“Wow. I have never known a woman who loves to have a guy inside her as much as you do. It’s a constant source of wonder for me.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that I didn’t used to. That honour befalls only you.”

“Oh, that does please me. A lot.”

He kissed you again, but then jumped off the bed and started gathering his clothes. You pouted as you watched him, suddenly feeling freezing and alone. Then you grabbed the covers and pulled them up to your nose before turning on your side and curling up to warm yourself.

“Shit… did you happen to see where I threw my left shoe?”

“Knowing you – probably down a staircase.”

“Are you… pouting right now?”

“I’m cold. The bed suddenly isn’t very warm anymore.”

“I’m sorry, mi amor, but if I’d stayed there any longer, I would’ve had to go again. And with the twins probably on their way back with the food by now, I’d rather not be caught with my pants down.”

“I’m pretty sure they heard you, anyway.”

He hesitated.

“I wasn’t that loud… was I?”

“Honey, I think the whole building might have heard you.”

At that moment, the bear in your stomach woke up, and she was loud too.

“Marcus. Don’t even start.”

“I was just gonna say that apparently I have some competition in the noise department.”

You didn’t say anything, and instead reached a ghost hand towards him, and tried to pinch his ass. It was harder the further away he was.

“Ow! What the hell? Did you just…?”

“Just practicing.”

If he was about to try and get you back, he didn’t get the chance, as the doors opened and Amaire walked in, holding four trays of food. Your stomach growled again, even louder, and Marcus just laughed.

“Please… please tell me you brought all of that, just for her?”

“Well, let me put it this way: judging by the sounds earlier, someone seems to have depleted what energy-reserves we’d been able to restore. So, now we have to start over.”

He sobered up instantly.

“That was not my intent.”

“Mhm. And… I suppose all of this ruined equipment wasn’t either?”

“Eh… sorry. We had a bit of an overload.”

“You don’t say.”

He looked at you with a playful smile, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. God, you loved this man.

“You should probably get back to Missy, school’s out in an hour.”

“Yeah. But, she’ll wanna see you, so we’ll come by later.”

Amaire cut in, shooting a warning glare at Marcus.

“No more sex.”

He froze, and blushed.

“I’m bringing Missy… of-of course not… I’m not gonna…”

“I’m not talking about later today, Marcus, I’m talking about tomorrow, and the next day. Until she’s been restored to full strength – you don’t touch her. Nurse’s orders. Got it?”

He looked a little sad, and you knew exactly how he felt. You’d just discovered this new and exciting thing, and now you couldn’t explore it. But Amaire was right. Considering how little you understood about your powers, it was irresponsible to play around with it to that degree. Even if you wouldn’t hurt each other, the current state of the med-chamber was proof enough that you could easily hurt someone else.

“We’ll behave. We promise. Right, honey?”

“Yeah.”

He came over to kiss you goodbye for now, and as his lips left yours, you let the ghost of them linger on his as he walked out of the room. But as soon as he disappeared from sight, you lost the connection.

“What is wrong with you, girl?”

You startled a little at Amaire’s sharp tone.

“What?”

“I get that you love him, like crazy, but you just woke up from another coma, you’ve barely even begun to restore your energy-reserves. Honey, don’t you see that it’s dangerous for you to do those kinds of things right now?”

“Yeah, I do. But I can’t help it. When he touches me… I’ve never been able to control what that does to me. The first time we kissed; I attacked him. Like, literally. And if he doesn’t touch me, it fucking kills me. And now, with what my powers allow me to do… I wish I could describe it in a way that someone else could understand, but I can’t. It’s beyond words.”

She sighed and looked at her sister, who just shrugged.

“In that case, I guess we’ll have to get the geniuses working on developing some form of nutritional supplement for you, to keep your energy up, without you having to eat for ten people in every sitting.”

With that, she put the first tray on your lap, and your stomach growled again. You emptied every plate and finished every crumb from all four trays, in less than half an hour.

Damned it. You were still hungry. Where the fuck did it all go?!!

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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goldenhypen · 3 years ago

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oml i completely forgot i was gonna do this so here i am before i forget again sksjs

heeseung -> love at first sight. claimed since day one. don't tell him i constantly got him mixed up with jake tho 😔💔 jsksjs no but fr idk what it was about him that drew me to him above the others and i still have no idea what it is but i adored him from the very start and that hasn't changed yet! c:

jay -> i feel like he was one of the only ones i could confidently pick out above the rest for the longest time jsksjs i thought he looked like the intimidating member who nobody would mess with but- well... 🤡 poor jay sksjjs i love how unintentionally funny he is though.

jake -> i kept getting him mixed up with heeseung and i ksjsjs felt so bad but his cute smile always stood out to me. 🥺 i don't really remember what my exact first impression of him was but he's now one of my permanent bias wreckers so-

sunghoon -> ah yes, i'd heard from my friend who loves enha about this majestic human on ice. 😌✨ all she had to do was send me like two vids of his skating performances and my jaw was on the floor istg. i was so impressed by him and i... kept getting him mixed up with jungwon and occasionally sunoo 😭 iM SORRY HOON ILY !! i love how lowkey and nonchalant his humor is though like he just says the goofiest things with a straight face until he can't hold it in and starts laughing at himself pls he's adorable 😭 "eating miso soup makes me so happy" —park sunghoon

sunoo -> i adored him at first sight too oml it was the cute squishy cheeks for me 🥺🥺 i've always had a soft spot for him and i still do to this day. i saw him as this cutesy lil bean (which he still definitely is) but that sassy side of his that i discovered 👀 iconic.

jungwon -> uhh okay for some reason i remember being able to pick him out sometimes by his eyebrows sksjsks 😭✋🏻 don't ask why. so yeah, he was eyebrow boy for a while aND HIS DIMPLES TOO !! i loved them, in such a sucker for cute dimples on cute boys :c i've now adopted him and he is 1/2 of my sons, the other being park jisung ofc 😌

ni-ki -> *me, seeing niki for the first time* "oh he's cute! who is he?" *insert keyboard typing sounds* "oh! oh- oH... 😳" *me, squinting at my screen* "this boy, no this CHILD, is 15 ??" *cue me throwing my phone at my wall* end scene. ksjsjs no but fr i was so shocked to learn how young he was ?? or how young all of them were really- but lowkey i was so excited bc i'm finally a noona to an entire band let's gaurrr!! i love how he's grown to be such a menace, for some reason i tend to like those types of people a lot (as long as they're not targeting me 😌). *looks at haechan*

ari omg i love this pls- honestly heeseung,, he never fails to effortlessly capture anyone’s heart so yeah,, i don’t blame you 😔 heeseung bestest boi <3 yeah honestly your first impression of jay is similar to mine. we thought he’d be the member who ppl wouldn’t mess with, but little did we know,,, skdjsjjdjd 😭 but yeah he also has such a fun and soft personality. i love him 🥺 and for jake and hee, considering the time you got into them, i’m not surprised you got them mixed up skdjdjd even after stanning them for a while before that, i still got them mixed up 😭✋🏻 and so did the members,, so- sksjsjjd but jakey rlly does have such a precious smile 🥺 i love him sm 😭 sksjsjd getting sunghoon mixed up with sunoo- sksjsjs i think you probs told me about that before but i- 😭 i understand jungwon tho. they still look like brothers to me a lot of the time lol. and pls the thing you said about hoonie’s humour,, i was literally smiling at my phone, unintentionally trying to hide it like hoonie does with his own jokes skdjjsd help he’s so cute pls. and yesss for sunoo i always adored him too and at first i never saw his sassy side skdjjdd and for jungwon being able to tell him apart by his eyebrows sksjsjdj that’s a talent in and of itself ✋🏻 also aksjskdj that was literally me when finding out how old niki was too pls he’s so young it still amazes me to this day.

tell me your first impressions of enha!

#‘*looks at haechan*’#SKSJDJDJ same tho ✋🏻#also the amount of drama in niki’s story pLS #i’m here for it tho ✋🏻#thank you v much for participating 😌#em answers #ari! <3 #lovely moots #first en⁃pressions

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sleepawaywriting · 4 years ago

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Mornings, Part I

[Piers x Reader, NSFW]

okay so this is half domestic headcanons, half unadulterated horniness. i love the goth boy okay I JUST WANT HIM TO GET SOME SLEEP.

NSFW (18+) UNDER THE CUT

You learn a lot about a person by sleeping with them. In your case, literally. Sleeping next to someone can be an exercise in trust, as it can be extremely vulnerable, and potentially disastrous. After all, you never know who you truly are while asleep until someone is there to bear witness. You could see everything: their nightly routine, their little habits and quirks. What did they prefer to wear, if they wore anything at all? How did they wind down? How did they get comfortable? Did they read? Listen to music? Did they prefer one pillow, or two, or ten? Did they surround themselves in a cocoon of blankets, or sleep completely uncovered, mocking the monsters under the bed? Did they stir at the slightest disturbance, or could they sleep through the end of the world? Were they restless in their slumber, or still as the grave? Did they snore? Did they talk? Did they steal blankets in the night, or did they cling to their partners? You personally found all of these details fascinating. It was as if the other person was sharing a special part of themselves, a part not too often seen by others.

You especially appreciated it now, as you dozed in-and-out of consciousness on a warm, cozy Sunday morning, lying entangled in the slender arms of your loving boyfriend. Your mind tended to wander on mornings like this, when you had no duties, no obligations, and could simply bask in the comforting presence of your slumbering musician. You thought it was funny, how you personally had very little change in your own sleeping habits since dating the ex-Gym Leader, despite your newly-inherited responsibilities as the Champion of Galar. Piers, on the other hand, had gone through an entire circadian metamorphosis since the two of you became intimate. Before you had moved into his flat in Spikemuth—a shocking and borderline scandalous development in your relationship, as far as the tabloids were concerned (you rarely paid them too much mind)—and before he had stepped down as Spikemuth’s Gym Leader, you were amazed if he managed to sleep more than four hours a night. You had an idea of how rarely he slept before you started dating—after all, why else would he send you texts in the dead of night and wee hours of the morning? But it wasn’t until after the two of you began sleeping together that you fully understood the extent of Piers’ problems. He had insomnia, that much was clear, and tended to become restless in the hours that you normally retired to bed. He claimed that all of his best ideas came to him late in the night, and would spend hours scribbling in his trusty journal while you cluelessly snoozed away next to him. Upon discovering this, you felt somewhat guilty, but he assuaged your worries by waxing poetic about how your soothing presence provided him with endless inspiration—that even while asleep, you helped organize his frenzied, haphazard thoughts long enough to translate them into song (and no matter how many times he admitted it, hearing how much you effected his music never failed to make you blush like a starstruck teen).

After moving in together, and as your domestic routines began to blend, so did your sleeping habits. It was surprisingly easy to get Piers into bed with you, you discovered. You simply had to tip-toe down to his basement studio and subdue him with a gentle kiss to the neck, along with some soft words teasing the shell of his ear. Though your schedules were not entirely in sync, as you had very different jobs, your sleepless songbird was finally getting some well-deserved rest. Gone were the mornings spent opening Spikemuth’s Gym, and spending most of the day prepping Gym Trainers, training Pokemon, and fighting rambunctious, overly-confident Gym Challengers, who often underestimated the rockstar’s abilities, much to your frustration. Now that he was a full-time musician, his workday didn't begin until late into the afternoon, and his concerts would often go late into the night. During your busiest times, when your Champion duties required you to be up at sunrise, you would have to bow out early most nights, feeling guilty when you could only support your boyfriend’s gigs about half of the time. Of course, in typical Piers fashion, he was endlessly understanding, and there was nothing quite as sweet as the feeling of going to bed alone, only to wake up and find him exhaustedly cuddled up next you, face buried into your chest or the small of your back (along with your menagerie of Pokemon, which, due to many of them being simultaneously competitive and cuddly, the two of you had to make a schedule for which Pokemon got to share the bed on certain nights).

You never expected Piers to be such a massive cuddler, but you very much welcomed it. At the beginning of your relationship, you suspected that Piers was averse to touch, as he tended to tense or not entirely reciprocate when you first began kissing or embracing him. You soon discovered that this was far from the truth, and that the poor guy simply wasn’t used to the type of affection you so enthusiastically showered upon him. Once the two of you lived together, it became increasingly obvious that he adored and craved your touch, often snuggling up against you and draping his arms around you when asleep. You also learned, that despite having trouble falling asleep, once Piers was securely in dreamland, it was almost impossible to wake him. On most mornings, escaping his Bewear-like grasp was your first Champion challenge of the day. On top of being a heavy sleeper, he was also a heavy sleep-talker. This rarely bothered you, in fact, you enjoyed having full conversations with him while he was none the wiser, with topics ranging from Marnie’s homework, Obstagoon’s yearly PokeCenter check-up, scheduling future gigs (he often mistook you for his manager in his sleep-addled stupor), and other silly, mundane things. He never remembered any of it, no matter how much you tried to jog his memory (he once mumbled out an imaginary itinerary for your future wedding—you never told him this, but it was a secret you held near and dear to your heart). There were many mornings where you would lie next to him, mindlessly scrolling through your phone or checking your emails, only for him to jolt half-awake, ask you, groggily, to write something down (usually an idea for a song), then immediately plop back down onto his pillow, snoring comically.

Those mornings were much like this one: quiet, unassuming—where you would debate for several minutes on whether you were gracious enough to let him sleep in, or impatient enough to wake him. You weren’t exactly in a hurry to get out of bed, as this was one of your rare days off, and the warmth radiating from Piers’ body, the welcoming scent of his lingering cologne, and the light pitter-patter of rain on the roof of the massive structure overhanging Spikemuth was enough to tempt you back into sleep. Your head rested under your boyfriend’s chin, your face close to the base of his neck, and you gently brought one hand up to trace a finger along the smooth metal of his collar, which he rarely removed. You weren’t sure if it was because he never wanted to, or if he simply forgot it was there, and either sounded like him, if you were being honest. Yawning quietly, you nudged your head back, wanting to get a better view of Piers’ sleeping face. Your bedroom happened to have a window facing the outside of Spikemuth’s container, allowing the diffused morning light to bathe your room in an overcast veil. He seemed to be sleeping soundly, despite his perpetually-grumpy expression still present, if somewhat more relaxed. You smiled to yourself, remembering when you first admitted to him, early in your friendship, that you assumed he hated you because of how he always seemed to look annoyed around you. “Hate to break it to ya, love, but that’s just my face,” he said then, making you feel embarrassed for assuming the worst about him, but also somewhat flustered that he referred to you as “love”. Back then, you wanted to write it off as one of his many Spikemuth-isms—that perhaps it was just a more casual nickname where he was from—but here you were, proven wrong.

Sighing softly, you looked over his sleeping form, admiring the way the stormy glow highlighted his features. You had always found him both incredibly adorable and handsome, despite the things he would say about himself in hushed tones on his worst days. His large, sad blue eyes, though closed for now, paired nicely with his high cheek bones and dark, striking eyebrows. You drew the tip of your index finger down the bridge of his nose, slightly crooked from the handful of times he had broken it in his youth, through back-alley scuffles and far-too-wild concerts. You tried not to giggle when the muscles in his face twitched as you reached the tip, giving it an extra boop for good measure. And, of course, you loved his mouth, the way his lips felt so soft and inviting against your own, the way they curled into the most adorable little smiles. The way they felt against your skin, at your wrists, the dip of your neck, across your shoulders, between your breasts, down your stomach, flush against your sensitive, needy heat, along with his overly-generous tongue.

Oh.

Suddenly and without warning, you really wanted him. Biting your lip, you didn’t wish to disturb the musician’s peaceful slumber, nor did you want him to spend the energy on reciprocating, which you knew he would insist upon (it was difficult to get him to be the least bit selfish about his own pleasure). Not to mention, you were still fairly groggy yourself, but you were equally as longing for your boyfriend, and the way his body would react to your loving, methodical touches, the way his beautiful voice would sound upon waking up in the throes of pleasure. Then, you remembered something. It was an idea the two of you had discussed before, whispers of heated fantasies in the dead of night, something that you had been waiting to act upon, but only at the right time, when it would truly be a surprise. Well, now was as good a time as any, you thought, smiling mischievously to yourself.

Ever-so-slowly, you wriggled out of Piers’ all-encompassing grasp, trying desperately not to laugh at how ridiculous you looked—arms firmly pressed to your sides, legs squeezed together, shifting yourself to-and-fro like a newly-hatched Caterpie. Once free, you sat up on your knees, careful to not shake the bed with your movements. Next came the difficult part, you thought, as he was on his side, and you needed him to be on his back for your plan to work. Placing one hand gently on his shoulder, and the other on his hip, you subtly began nudging him onto his back. You almost startled when he suddenly moved, shifting onto his back of his own accord. You winced internally, fully prepared for him to stir awake and be reasonably confused as to why you were leaning over him, but he quickly settled back into sleep, completely oblivious to the waking world. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, smiling at the silly, dramatic, sprawled-out position you boyfriend had assumed.

Carefully, you straddled his waist, making sure to place most of your weight onto your knees. Since the weather was getting warmer, even in the rainy, coastal town of Spikemuth, the both of you were sparsely clothed, with Piers completely bare, save for a thin pair of briefs. Looking him over, you watched the slow rise-and-fall of his chest, and admired the way his long, thick, two-toned hair cascaded down his pillow, descending into rivulets of stark white and midnight black against your bedsheets. He had just showered the previous night, which meant it was extra soft and fluffy, and just messy enough to make him look even more attractive, without risk of becoming a tangled mess. From your angle, you took the time to appreciate his slender frame, which you found endlessly attractive. You loved everything about him, from his prominent collarbones, to his flat chest, to the slight indents of his ribcage traveling down to the smooth plane of his abdomen, punctuated by his sharp hip bones. It took everything in you to not draw your hands up his torso, feeling every muscle and the occasional edge of bone beneath your eager touch. You frowned slightly, remembering how he would occasionally jab at himself, stating that he looked like a skeleton or a walking corpse at times. Though you knew he was joking, at least for the most part, you were adamant on reminding him just how much you adored his body, which was something that simultaneously baffled and flattered him. Your effortless and brutally honest compliments never failed to turn him sheepish, avoiding your gaze and hiding his warm cheeks behind his long, thick bangs. And you would keep reminding him, again and again, that he was plenty attractive, even if you needed to give him a a few more hands-on demonstrations to prove it, which you were more than happy to provide.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned over him, slowly placing your hands on either side of his head. Leaning down, you simply couldn’t resist brushing your lips against his own, just the softest, feather-light touch, holding yourself back from diving in and kissing him blissfully awake. Moving down, you grazed your lips across his neck, planting a gentle kiss at the base, right beneath his choker, noting the faint, yet sharp scent of leftover hair product, and the smooth, silky scent of mild soap. You left a trail of soft kisses across his collarbone, smiling into his skin as you noticed goosebumps appearing at your touch, then moved down to his chest, leaving a few kisses over his sternum before boldly swiping your tongue over one of his nipples. He flinched, and you looked up at his face, fearing the worst, but he simply turned his head to the side and settled back into sleep, breathing deeply. You could have imagined it, but you thought his cheeks took on a slightly rosy tint, contrasting with his normally pale complexion.

Continuing your journey downward, you lavished his soft belly with loving kisses and the occasional warm, gentle sweep of your tongue. Reaching the top of his hips, you nuzzled the soft, dark hair trailing down from his navel into the waistband of his briefs, before shifting your body down between his knees. You gingerly spread his thighs apart with your fingertips, lying down onto your stomach and slowly shimmying yourself forward, fitting comfortably between his long legs. Kissing up his soft inner thighs, you began to apply more pressure, teasing the sensitive skin with the edges of your teeth. You journeyed further upward, sucking on a particularly sensitive patch of skin that made his legs twitch beneath you. Hearing him exhale, you looked up, noticing as his breathing became slightly more labored. With a satisfied grin, you reached up with one hand, lightly palming the growing bulge beneath the soft fabric of his briefs. You adored the way Piers’ body reacted to even the slightest, most teasing touches, and the fact that you could make him feel so good so easily was a massive turn-on. It certainly helped boost your confidence—not to mention, seeing the handsome musician thoroughly enjoy himself never failed to make you weak in the knees.

It only took a few moments for your boyfriend to grow hard and wanting beneath your ministrations. You released him from his briefs, taking a moment to admire his cock in all its unapologetic glory. You suddenly remembered his reaction to you the first time you saw it. You must have been making some kind of face, because he immediately interjected with, “It’s not that big, is it?”, to which you replied, “Oh, ‘It’s not that big, is it?’,” playfully mocking his accent for good measure, “Mr. Humble over here with ‘It’s not that big’. Seriously?” you smiled and rolled your eyes as your boyfriend laughed. You then told him it was pretty, which made him laugh even harder, but you were being completely serious. It was big, as in long, but not too girthy, and as pale as he was, save for the last half, which was flushed pink (it was actually quite similar to the rest of him, now that you thought about it). It also never failed to make you feel so full and satisfied, hitting all the spots inside of you that made you whimper and squirm. You wanted to be re-acquainted, preferably soon, but for now, you had other plans.

You decided to tease him a little more before fully indulging yourself, drawing the soft pad of your index finger up the underside of his shaft before circling it around the tip, taking your sweet time to feel every dip and curve. His breathing grew heavier, and now you could see that his cheeks were fully flushed, his brow tensing slightly as you all but tickled his aching cock. Licking a stripe up your hand, you gently wrapped it around him, keeping your grip loose enough as to not overwhelm his senses right away. Stroking him slowly, you lavished the rest with gentle kisses, reveling in the way his hips twitched and his breath stuttered once you began swirling your tongue around the tip. He was so warm, and you felt him throb beneath your hand, his hips practically jolting in place when you gave the tip a generous squeeze. You briefly wondered if he was dreaming, and if so, if he was dreaming about you.

Watching, enamored, as the tip began to leak clear pre-cum, you felt a hunger welling up deep within your chest and between your legs. You slowly began to take him into your mouth, securely holding his hips down in case he unconsciously thrusted up inside of you (though you weren’t opposed to the idea, you didn’t want him to wake up to the sound of you gagging). You took him down about half way, before delaying his gratification by withdrawing and, again, swirling your tongue around the tip. His entire body shifted this time, a soft, tired, breathless moan escaping his lips, sending a sharp pang of arousal deep into your lower belly. Your brain grew foggy, a wave of lust and adoration clouding your thoughts as you took him all the way, brow furrowed in concentration, wrangling in your gag reflex once the tip hit the back of your throat. He moaned again, and if it wasn’t the most beautiful, erotic sound. His voice was already gorgeous under normal circumstances, but especially in the morning, when it was tinged with the slightest bit of gravel and honey-like richness. It made you feel hopelessly needy, your own arousal, slick and hot, pooling between your thighs.

You continued with the same action, slowly taking him until he hit the back of your throat, then withdrawing, listening intently to the way his moans became more haggard and desperate—until about the fifth time, when you pulled him in completely, daring to swallow around him and practically choke yourself on his cock. You heard him gasp, a startled moan escaping him as you felt a hand grip the back of your head. Well, good morning, you thought, trying not to smile or laugh with a cock stuffed halfway down your throat. You drew up off of him, your eyes connecting with his sparkling blue ones, his pupils blown wide, noting how his adorable flush had spread up to his ears and down his neck. Before he could say anything, you took him again, setting a more intense pace now that he was awake.

“Fuck—,” he groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he carded his long, slender fingers through your hair, his other hand clinging to the one holding his hip. You laced your fingers through his own as you drew up off of him again, sucking on the tip almost obscenely before licking a firm stripe up the underside of his shaft.

“So good, love,” he praised, shuddering as he threw his head back onto the pillows, taking a handful of your hair and tugging slightly. Pulling him back into the slick heat of your mouth, you moaned around him, his breathless praise making your heart flutter. Feeling him throb inside of you, you moaned again, breathing out through your nose, before bracing yourself and taking him as far as you could go, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He practically convulsed, making a delicious choked, startled noise when you felt him spill down your throat—hot, musky, and not entirely unpleasant. He held your head firm to him as he rode out his orgasm, a string of curses, praises, and broken moans leaving his exhausted body, before you tapped him twice on the hip, indicating that you needed to breathe.

“Ah, sorry—!” he startled, releasing you as you practically gasped for air, settling back onto your knees. He leaned up, reaching out to cradle your face with one hand, drawing a thumb along your cheekbone before hooking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His gentle touch made you shudder, closing your eyes as you steadied your breathing. Upon hearing your name, you opened them again, your heart swelling at your boyfriend’s tired gaze and dopey, lovestruck grin.

“I… I just—,” he started, stumbling over his syllables, drawing a hand back through his messy hair, “You— you’re so— ah, fuck it,” he gave up on words and decided to just pull you up into his lap instead. You laid on top of him, chest flush against his own as he drew you into a lazy, tender kiss, and you couldn’t help but hum at the way he slid his tongue lovingly between your lips. Cradling your chin, he broke the kiss, staring deep into your eyes.

“I love you,” he practically whispered, and you felt your face heat under his intense gaze. Suddenly feeling shy, despite the filthy things you just did to him, you hid your face into the crook of his neck.

“I… I love you too,” you squeaked. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice beneath your flushed cheeks.

Sighing, you settled into him, listening to the rain and breathing in his warm scent as he came down from his high. You had almost dozed off again when he suddenly spoke.

“Ya know, if ya want me to do somethin’ for ya, I could—“

“Not right now,” you hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his neck, “Can we just stay like this, for a while?”

“Of course,” he replied, voice gentle and smooth as silk. He felt you smile against him, before you yawned dramatically, nuzzling further into him. He began tracing soothing circles into your back, sending tingles down your spine, and you quickly fell asleep to the sound of his breathing.

#piers x reader #piers pokemon x reader #piers #piers pokemon #swsh #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #pokemon piers x reader #pokemon piers #pokemon

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haxorus-imp · 4 years ago

Text

Dreamer Biology - Newton and Reader short fic

Just a short fic on how I feel like Newton and a Human would be friends. So they chill and have meaningful conversations together while they hang out. Just some ideas I drew up and like the thoughts of. Platonic Newton and Reader - Gender neutral Reader - Alien Concepts No thoughts, just Single Braincell Shenanigans. AO3 link for those that would rather read it there > https://archiveofourown.org/works/28950645

You were currently dozing peacefully on a plateau that was near the top of Needlepoint Peaks in Bunkum. Which was the perfect place for a midday snooze. The air at the top was crisp and fresh. Which sent a pleasant feeling that rang throughout the entirety of your organic lungs.

Your skin shivered at the brisk wind as it brushed on by. Carrying the cardboard clouds that hovered nearby away in a random direction. Despite the slight chill, you were completely relaxed and you stretched your arms slightly to loosen the remaining tension from your hike up the mountain. Then, your ears perked up a bit when you heard a hushed curse come from nearby. Ah, that’s right. You almost completely forgot about your companion that decided to accompany you on your trek up the mountainside.

You slowly crack open your eyes and look over. A few meters away from your dormant form sat your only friend in the whole ‘imagisphere’, Newton Pud. Who was fiddling with some equipment just a few feet away from your lazy form. He seemed to be concentrating as he worked on the random project in his lap, getting slightly frustrated at something that wasn’t cooperating with the fixture.

Surrounding himself was a picnic blanket, a basket full of goodies (that you couldn’t ingest sadly), a pile of mechanical pieces,a notebook and pen, a laid out blueprint, and some bottles of some foreign lubricant.

You simply watch as he would look over to your ‘sleeping’ form a few times before getting back to his project, despite the frustration. It made your mind wander a bit. It was rather strange how you two became friends. A human and a lightbulb object-head. Not that you could complain. You were probably really lucky to make any friends out here in the imagisphere. It wasn’t like the natives were hostile to you or anything. It was just because you were a rather strange case. Nobody around here on ‘Bunkum’, nor on the neighboring nearby planet called ‘Craftworld’, have ever seen your kind before. Not that you couldn’t blame them for being a bit cautious. There was rarely anything around here that resembled ‘organic’ materials. It was a dimension filled with fabrics and crafts that were made to mimic the real thing. Nothing here seemed to be made of flesh. Which is what you were made of. Flesh, blood, and bones.

Which was strange in this universe.

You don’t even remember how you arrived here nor why you’re here. But once you were found by the little brave Sackthing, you found yourself meeting ‘The Alliance’ and going on a trip in a little rocket ship. As of right now, you were under the care of the members of that Alliance. Until your culture shock, amnesia, and living predicaments were addressed. So, Larry has been coming to and from Bunkum while attending the popit academy.

With an invitation, you were allowed to travel with Larry and visit Bunkum. That’s when you met Newton and he gave you a grand tour of his homeworld while Larry was teaching his lessons. After that day, you two have been hanging out regularly and seemed to have developed some form of bond. I guess two oddballs being friends wouldn’t be that far fetched, now would it? It was fun hanging out with him though. So you couldn’t really complain. “Erm...pardon me, Chum.” Newton’s voice broke the silence between you two as you sat up slightly, humming in acknowledgement and turning your gaze towards him. He was sitting a little bit away, now facing you fully. The contraption in his lap looking no closer to completion as his electric eyes stare at your own. “Yeah, Newton?” “Um...well. I know this is, uh, rather sudden. But, I have waited a while to question you on this particular topic.” Newton begins as you listen in.

“I can tell from the moment we met, you’re not from around here. Like...you’re not from either Craftworld nor Bunkum. Not even from that odd place, Carnivalia. So, I have gotten rather curious about where you came from.” Newton questions. You think for a second as memories of your true home flash in your head. You shrug.

“I honestly don’t know how I got here, but I’m from a place called Earth. It’s like this world and dimension...just...organic? ‘Real’? Like...stuff is made out of...it’s kinda hard to explain it…” You mutter. Your explanation was met with silence. Newton seemed almost completely confused as he appeared to be thinking deeply before replying. “Uh, chum? Not to doubt your explanation...but ‘Earth’? Isn’t that the ‘Orb of Dreamers’ from mythology? Like...from what I can remember, the legends said that beings from a place called ‘Earth’ is what created the imagisphere long, long ago. Like...we’re talking ancient history here...” You get a bit upset and sit upright to look at Newton fully. “Oh, come on! Newton, look at me! How can I be lying? I mean, nobody around here has ever seen a human before! Do I look like anything ‘natural’ that’s been made around here?” You gesture to yourself as Newton does a quick skim of your figure before locking your eyes together again. “Er...well...now that you say it like that...no? I apologize. I wasn’t saying that you were a liar. I was just...caught off guard a bit by that explanation.” Silence hangs in the air for a moment while he looks a bit bewildered before speaking up once more.

“So…’Earth’. The ‘Orb of Dreamers’. It’s real then? A real place? Not a myth like the mythology legends say it is?” Newton wonders, his eyes sparking a bit.

You roll your eyes comically at his question. “I don’t know, Newton. Am I real? Am I just a hallucination?” You joke. Newton blinks a bit before he looks away timidly. He closes his eyes for a moment, then he presses a finger to his non-existent chin. After a moment of thought, he seems to be ready to ask another question. He opens his eyes and glances back towards your general direction. “What’s it like? The orb of dreamers, I mean.” He asks.

You ponder the question for a moment.

“Well...like I said before...like this place. But, everything is MUCH bigger. Like...I would probably match this mountain in height...or I would be able to pick up a large tin of crackers with extreme ease. I’m scaled down, but everything seems to be accurate to the size of Earth. As for what makes up Earth...it’s just...different? Like...hmmmm...” You were at a complete loss on how to describe your home world to someone who knew only fabric and material. Then, you got an idea while you ran your fingers through your hair. You hold your arm out to your lightbulb companion and he flinched a bit before looking at you curiously. You wiggle your arm for emphasis. “Touch my arm. Tell me what you think.” You gesture again, still holding it out. Newton gives you a questioning glance, but eventually places down the tools he was holding before reaching out with both hands. His fabric appendages touch down on your hand before they grip your palm and fingers. His gaze focuses intensely as he runs his hands up your wrist, forearm, and elbow. His white cloth fingers press in on the flesh. Feeling the hard bones underneath as he curiously prods the alien material that made up your form. He even took to bending the limb. Turning it one way, then the other. Watching the muscles and angles change to provide movement for the direction he chose. He seemed completely fascinated. You almost wanted to laugh as his expression looked similar to that of child wonderment. Like he discovered something for the first time, guaranteed that this was the first time you let anyone else other than Eve touch your flesh.

He slides his hands down your arms and back to your hand, which he begins to mess with the fingers. That is, until he pushed one a bit far and it let out a distinct ‘pop’. He quickly lets go before a flood of apologies suddenly spill from his wiry mouth. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m so so so sorry! I didn’t know--oh crumbs! What if I broke it?!?” Newton nearly panics before you shush him. “I’m okay, man! That’s normal...for the most part. Our body parts pop like that to release tension and strain. Keep in mind that we CAN break them, but a mere pop is nothing to be worried about. Observe.” You say. Then, you promptly lace your two hands together and push them outwards.

Resulting in a large series of pops from your fingers and shoulders. Newton’s face violently glitches suddenly at the sound and it quickly morphs into a face of horror. You smirk at his reaction and then begin to turn your back while sitting in place. This resulted in more and louder pops that make Newton recoil in disgust. “AUGH! How does that NOT hurt you?! It sounds so PAINFUL!” Newton yowls. You just laugh a bit and shrug. “Humans are weird like that, Newton.” You say, a smirk still present on your face as Newton tries to shake off the discomfort of the sounds he just witnessed. “You should’ve seen how the others reacted to my bones popping. Larry thought I snapped myself in half and Eve wanted to give me medical attention. So it’s not the first time someone reacted that way.” “Wait...THOSE ARE BONES?!! WHY WOULD HUMANS DO THAT TO THEIR BONES?!!” Newton shrieked as you burst out into another fit of laughter. You struggled to gain your breath as Newton looks at you in a horrified manner. “T-To...hah, release tension! It’s really quite relaxing!” “Balderdash!!” Newton retorts. You snicker a bit as you finally are able to catch your breath. Your laughter and shenanigans echoing through the mountain ranges as Newton quickly shakes his head around a bit, as if trying to dislodge the sound of your bones popping from his memory. A second of bliss passes. “So...you’re naturally warm all of the time?” Newton speaks up again, fiddling with the machine in his lap as he looks at you from time to time from underneath his egg-timer bowler hat. “Well...yeah. Don’t see how you lack body heat, since you’re a lightbulb and all. But, I guess we humans feel like we have little furnaces inside of us that are lit all the time.” “Oh. It’s not like we don’t have body heat. But, we just...don’t feel like you do? It’s kinda strange. You feel like something is constantly warming you up from the inside. Plus, we don’t freeze like you do. We can get ‘cold’ but not enough to actually freeze.” Newton says. You nod in understanding. A brief memory of you nearly freezing in the Ziggurat while touring Bunkum flashes in your mind. Newton then continues. “And your… ’skin’ ...it feels different too. It’s very soft and similar to leather. But, like...there’s really REALLY fine threats that go through it? No stitching or pattern lines...it just looks like everything on you was burned into the covering.” Newton rambles as you listen in. Was having flesh really that strange? “And...I was wondering...what about that stuff on your head? Is it yarn...or a fine string?” Newton ponders out loud, pointing to your hair. “That? Well...I guess silk or ‘fine string’ would be a way to describe it. It grows out of my head naturally. Every week or so, they get longer and longer.” You explain. Newton seemed intrigued by this information. “Wait...you PRODUCE things from your body? Like...constantly??” “Well, yeah. Same with my fingernails. They grow constantly and I have to cut them every now and then.” You show Newton your hand as an example. Newton looks at the ends of your fingers and takes notice of the nails on the end, as well as the creases of your palms and skin lines on your bendable bits.

“What about your eyes?” He asks, letting go of your hand and pointing to your face.

“My eyes? Well...they are a complicated organ. Unlike sackfolk and such, I can’t just change my eyes willy-nilly. These are the same eyes I got from birth. If I’m careful, I’ll have them for the rest of my life.” “If you’re careful?” “Yeah. A human can lose parts of their body and they can’t grow back. Some things can be replaced or substituted. Like a leg or arm, but eyes grant me the ability to see. If I lose them in an accident or fight, I can become blind.” You elaborate. “Ah. I understand...anything else…?” Newton mutters a bit, as if he was thinking of anything else to say. “I also noticed that the locals around here have a tongue made of fabric. I just wanted to say that I have one too.” Without even being asked, you stick out your tongue and wiggle it for emphasis. Newton gives it a disturbed look as he leans back a bit. “What is...what is that bloody thing made of?? It looks so wet and slimy!” You return your tongue back into your mouth before you speak. “Flesh. It’s a muscle that allows me to enunciate and properly pronounce my words. Without it, I would have trouble speaking and communicating vocally.” You idly speak. Newton’s mouth makes a waving motion as a sound of uncertainty emits from him. Then, a minute or two passes once again before Newton seems to take an interest in something else and sets his project aside in favor of the notepad that he was writing on. He flips a few pages before stopping on a blank sheet. Picking up his pen, he begins to write some things down. The sound of his pen was frantic as he seemed to be thinking while he wrote. You could catch some quick sketches of a humanoid-figure being drawn up in his notebook before a few boxes were sketched nearby with lines going towards certain parts of the sketch. Then, you realized what he was doing. He was taking notes of your conversation. How cute. You smile a bit as you look off into the distance. The mountains around you both were slowly turning a pale orange while the sun was beginning to sink towards the mountain-embraced horizon. The cardboard clouds slowly creeped along, turning some various shades of purple and pink while they drifted. The sky was slowly changing as well, giving the scenery around you both a feeling of tranquility as the evening was slowly creeping towards nightfall. You could even see a few ‘stars’ beginning to appear as the night slowly was coming around. It was easy to get lost in the scenery before you. “So. You’re a dreamer then?” You are suddenly pulled back to this reality as Newton interrupts the blissful silence. You look back toward him and give him a confused look. “A dreamer?” “Yes, chum. You came from the ‘Orb of Dreamers’, right? So that would make you a dreamer.” “When did you come up with that assumption?” “I didn’t. That’s what the mythology books I read sometimes say. I quote, ‘Earth, or as the Omniverse calls it, the ‘Orb of Dreamers’. In which the occupants spend so much time asleep and dreaming. Their imaginations humming away, charged with creative energy.’ end quote.” Newton explained. “The book also said, like before, that ‘Earth’ is responsible for the creation of the entire imagisphere. Again I quote, ‘Their energy travels up through the ceribrumbilical cord to meld with all of the other dreamers energy. And from that energy, they make a planet. An abstract plane of wonderment. Filled with adventure and endless possibilities.’ , end quote.” He continued. You sit there in contemplative silence. “That’s what you are...right? A dreamer?” Newton cautiously prods. “. . .” You sigh a bit. “It explains a lot actually.” You say, confusing Newton. “Explains what?” “What happens when I fall asleep.” You explain before continuing. “Everytime I fall asleep, something happens. Like...things pop into existence. I woke up once after dozing off in Clive’s factory to find some new robots standing next to me. Clive claimed he didn’t build them and I said I didn’t either. Then, I went to sleep in the Gardens and a flowerbed had grown up around me so quickly while I was dozing. It’s just...weird stuff happens when I take a nap or sleep.” You admit. Newton seemed to blink before getting a bit excited. “Does that make you a creator then??” He says ethustiactally. “Crumbs! That means you can make anything real! You’re like a creator or a maker or--” “Shush, Newton!” You hush him harshly, in which you feel immediately bad after he recoils.

You simply let out a stressful sigh before continuing.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you...it’s just...well--I don’t really know what’s going on...nor even how I got here. I really don’t want a lot of excess attention on me. So for now, I’m (Name) the Human not (Name) the Dreamer, okay? Please, let’s just keep this revelation between the two of us.” you finish. Newton looked thoughtful before nodding in agreement. “Okay, chum! You can count on me! Not one word will slip past my wire, not one!” He pridefully states before writing more information down in his personal notebook. You merely roll your eyes at the overly excited lightbulb before looking back at the sunset.

Then, a sudden thought comes to your mind. “Hey, Newton?” “Yes, chum?” “When we get back to Stitchem Manor, do you think you can lend me one of those ‘mythology’ books? I would like to see what this realm thinks of my homeworld.” Newton perks up at that request. “Sure thing! There’s a couple of books in my personal library I can lend to you! I may even search for more information on the topic if you want!” He offers. “Just a book will be fine for now, Newton. Thanks for the offer, though.” “Anytime, my chummy friend!” You stare at the horizon as Newton scribbles down notes nearby. A smile slowly creeping across your face at the potential possibility of being able to find your way home. Looking into myths and legends may be a stretch, but a lead is a lead.

So you just enjoy your time on the mountain. Thinking about the things Newton told you and the secret you both are now keeping between yourselves.

Who knew being a human would lead to such a conundrum such as this. And all over your biology too, who would’ve thunk?

#little big planet #LBP #LBP3 #Newton Pud #reader insert #LBP fanfic #Just some ideas I have about humans in the imagisphere #reader is gender neutral #Reader is a human

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rae-sparda · 4 years ago

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Dangerous Liaisons

A/N: Hey guys, we're baaaaaaaaaack with another chapter. Yaaay! I hope you like it! Let me know what you think.

Chapter 3 - A meeting with the Devil's Mother

She knocked on the door feeling her undead heart thudding violently against her chest, her fear palpable. Soon enough, the door opened and Finn greeted her, his impassive face shifting to one of nearly happy that she was alone. “You’re alone. Wise choice.” She side glanced at him, resisting the urge to not roll her eyes. Yeah, like I had a choice… Gulping down her fear, she fully entered the room, her gaze falling between Esther’s hands.

“It’s only sage. I’ve spelled It so we can talk freely without fear of being overheard. That would be all, Finn. Thank you.” Dismissing her old son, the two soon were alone, and Katherine tried hard not to bolt after she heard the door closing. “You must have a million questions for me, Elena. Please.” She gestured towards the sofa and the vampiress gulped, slowly making her way before seating and cursing the Salvatores for making her basically scream that she wanted to die.

“How are you alive? I mean… Are you a ghost or…?

“Not exactly. When I died the witch Ayana preserved my body with a spell. She was a close friend of mine and an ancestor of your friend Bonnie.” Katherine widened her eyes, surprised at the revelation, but knew her doppelganger would never let any information pass. She was as cunning as she could be and still pretend to be innocent. The nerve.

“So that’s why only Bonnie and her mother could open the casket?”

“They complete the Bennet bloodline. I drew power from them and their ancestors with me on the other side.”

“You’ve been on the other side for a thousand years?”

“Nature’s way of punishing me for turning my family into vampires. But there is a way for me to undo the evil I created.” Katherine was caught off guard, her surprise showing openly on her features.

“You’re gonna help us kill Klaus, aren’t you?”

“One thing at a time, Elena. For now, I simply need your help.” Her nervousness was only growing with each second more she passed beside the Original Bitch who was speaking so freely and seemed confident that Elena would help her. No surprises there, they all wanted to kill Klaus. “I understand Rebekah shared the story of my family. How I upset the balance of nature by turning my children into vampires.” Esther said while lit up a few candles on top of a paper that had a few things scribbled down, but Katherine couldn’t decipher what it was from where she was standing.

“She said that you did that to protect them from the werewolves.” By now, Katherine was more than happy to have force shared information with her shadow self, otherwise, she would have stuttered so much, the witch would have seen something different on her.

“It’s true. But in no time at all, they began to feed on human blood.” She poured water into a cup while saying that with such disgust that made Katherine ball her hands into fists to not say anything. They became what they were because of her! How could she not see that they were only children and she was the responsible one for that mess? “They ravaged the town with no remorse. Eventually, Niklaus turned against me.”

Getting closer, the vampire doppelganger still didn’t see how Elena would help her. “How are you gonna kill him? He’s immortal.” She nearly scoffed, but the Mikaelson’s matriarch was so serious and gazing at her intently like she was trying to read her soul.

“It will take time, magic, and your assistance.”

“What do I have to do then?”

“My children believe I’m holding this ball to celebrate our reunion. But in truth, I’ve gathered them together to perform a ritual. The first step requires the blood from the doppelganger.” Katherine widened her eyes and stiffened, feeling overwhelmed. She was going to be discovered and Esther would kill her in a heartbeat. “Only a drop. Its essence will be in the champagne toast later on this evening. Will you do it? Or shall I?” She asked revealing a silver dagger and holding it to her in a twisted way of offering her the chance to help her.

To not raise suspicions, she took out her glove and hold the dagger, pinching her finger before turning it towards the cup full of something she didn’t want to think about. Giving the dagger back to Esther, Katherine quickly put her glove back on, feeling nervous. Would it work? “Elijah is more suspicious than the others, so he may need more persuasion. But they must all drink at the toast in order to be linked as one.”

“What do you mean linked as one?” She was regretting her decision to come at all and was fearing for Elijah. This wench of a woman wanted to kill all her children? With no regrets?

“You said yourself Klaus can’t be killed. But tonight’s spell links all my children together so that if one goes, they all go.”

“What?” Her voice wavered and she suddenly felt the urge to vomit. She couldn’t believe that Esther would do such a cruel thing. And they used to say she and Klaus were the monsters...

“I love my family, Elena... But they are an abomination. I betrayed nature when I created them. It’s my duty to kill them.” Katherine didn’t even have to pretend to be shocked, since she was too struck to pretend another reaction and simply left in a daze.

“So how was my mother?” Elijah’s voice was enough to make her feel her dead heartbeat skyrocket and she gulped, taking a deep breath to calm herself in his presence, the urge to simply spill everything eating her.

“Intense.”

“And for what reason, she needed to speak with you in private?” His reaction seemed nearly funny like he was loving her reaction, from what; she couldn’t tell. Getting two flutes of champagne, the vampire doppelganger forced a smile on her face, glancing sideways involuntarily, meeting Esther’s eyes who showed a coldness even when she smiled at her and Katherine felt she couldn’t breathe. “Elena. Should I be concerned about my mother's intentions?” She snapped her head towards Elijah, glancing at him like he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. Approaching him, she smiled, getting his flute and turning around to run, exchanging the flutes, and whining at the force he used to stop her. Frowning, she pouted and gave him her flute, her eyes hardened.

“No, Lijah... You don’t have to worry about mother dearest.” He gave her a side smile, approaching the doppelganger slowly, making her walk backward until her back collided with the wall.

“So, it’s true then? She’s forgiven Klaus?”

“It’s true.” She forced a smile on her lips, and Elijah let his eyes linger on her sinful lips.

“You forgot that I can always tell when you lie, Katerina.” Opening her mouth to reply, she was interrupted by the sound of clinking glass.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Waiters are coming around with champagne. I invite you all to join me in raising a glass. It provides me with no greater joy than to see my family back together as one. I’d like to thank you all for being part of this spectacular evening. Cheers.” She raised her glass and the doppelganger internally panicked. She had switched the wrong flutes. When Elijah got his flute, Katherine simply arched her brows, facing the older vampire mockingly.

“Since you’ve discovered me...” She dryly retorted, stealing his flute and drinking it in one go, just like the rest of his siblings. Before Elijah could try to question what the hell was she doing there, she flew trying to find Stefan to go home. After a few moments where she hid from Elijah, she finally found the younger Salvatore... Only, he wasn’t alone and was discussing with his brother, calling the attention of anyone that was leaving the ball.

“Okay, Stefan, nice one. You surprised me, bro. Good for you, but don’t think for a second that that fucking whore wi-”

“Damon, what are you doing?” Katherine bit out, grazing her teeth, wanting more than anything to break his neck again and burn his body just for fun to see him die. He barely turned when he heard her voice, his anger aimed at his brother.

“Oh, shut up, you little devil. Go away.”

“Damon, please! This isn’t you, what is wrong with you?” Scoffing he turned around to face her and gave a wicked grin, making her frown. Katherine gave a step back, but Damon's vamp sped at her, throwing her at the pool, and everyone stood shocked to see what happened, while she screamed and let herself fall into the water, internally screaming and killing Damon in a million different ways. Not even a second later, she was out, shivering and coughing, her gaze darting around wildly until she was hushed and hugged her savior.

“Go now, mister Salvatore. You’ve done enough this evening.” Elijah dismissed him and heard Katherine’s growl. The only thing keeping her from killing Damon was the way the Original’s body was engulfing her, and he should be thankful for this mercy.

“Elena... I can get you home.” Stefan’s voice was controlled and his rigid posture revealed he was not sure how to react.

“I’m fine... I’ll be okay... Elijah won’t let anyone hurt me, Stefan. You can go.” He nodded, only glancing at her once more before flashing out after his brother and Elijah took her to his bedroom to let her dry herself and use Rebekah’s clothes, much to her annoyance. When they returned to his bedroom, Elijah opened his mouth, but Katherine stopped him, saying they should go to her hotel’s room. “We can’t talk here. It’s not safe.” She whispered and he frowned, both vampires escaping through the windows. After a few seconds, they were inside her room and she bit her lip, messing her hair and telling him about his mother’s plan to kill them all.

“So, she wants to kill us all... And you linked yourself with my siblings... Why, Katerina?” She frowned and scoffed, crossing her arms.

“I have no idea if it worked. I might be a doppelganger, but I am a vampire.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She gulped and before she could reply anything, he disappeared, leaving her alone.

@umaficwriter @kalijahx @imgoingtofreakoutnow

#dangerous liaisons #chapter 3 a meeting with the devil's mother #kalijah #katherine pierce x elijah mikaelson #katerina petrova #katherine pierce #elijah mikaelson #tvd

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zintranslations · 4 years ago

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Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 12

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Link to ongoing Taida Translations

Chapter 12: Key to the Door

The chewing noises continued for a long time, as if steadfastly gnawing at every single bone. The crackling bites through bone were viscerally discomforting to hear, but everybody waited it out in silence.

Finally, just as dawnlight began to emanate over the horizon, the noises stopped. At the same time, the woman who had been silently watching the group this whole time from outside the estate wall too disappeared.

Who knew if Lin Qiushi imagined it, but he thought that right before the woman went, he’d heard a faint burp… like something was full after eating.

Day had finally come. Lin Qiushi, who'd spent the night sitting in the yard, felt like he was returning to another lifetime. He asked, "is it over?"

Ruan Baijie answered a short, noncommittal maybe.

They'd cut the trees, prayed at the temple, and filled the well. All that was left was to fetch the coffin from the carpenter.

There was exhaustion on everybody's faces, but underneath the exhaustion was hidden some excitement. This ought to be the last step. Once they get the key and find the door, they could leave this scary world.

Everybody was thinking this. Even their steps seemed lighter.

The village by day had nothing of the eerie evening terror; it seemed just like a typical mountain village, where typical mountain villagers lived. No ghosts, no deaths.

On their way to the carpenter's, they happened to pass by where Wang Xiaoyi died. But Lin Qiushi saw nothing there, only white snow piled on the ground. Nothing that happened last night left behind any traces.

"Was her body eaten?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Probably," Ruan Baijie said. "That thing's got a pretty big appetite."

They got to the carpenter's, and saw the carpenter languidly smoking in the front door. Lin Qiushi arrived first, and so greeted him: "hello sir, we're here to fetch the coffin."

That carpenter didn't speak—just waved a hand at the house.

Everybody entered the house in succession, and saw a beautiful red coffin sitting in the small room. The coffin was extremely pretty—finely made, with every detail and seam in airtight alignment. It didn't seem like a product made on short notice at all.

Lin Qiushi thought there was something odd about the paint on the coffin. He reached out, and discovered the paint smelled a bit rancid, and felt greasy to the touch.

Ruan Baijie realized far faster than he did, and spoke unflappably, "it's soaked in blood, isn't it?"

"Probably," Xiong Qi said. "What kind of paint looks like that?"

"It doesn't matter, who cares what it's painted with, let's get it back first," Ruan Baijie said. "Come on."

Lin Qiushi had thought this coffin would be heavy, but lifting it, it turned out to be light as a feather; two people quite easily carried it.

Cheng Wen couldn't work at all in his current condition. Of the group, only Lin Qiushi and Xiong Qi were left to do the hard labor. They each took up an end and lifted the coffin, starting off for their living quarters.

"What do we do after this?" Lin Qiushi asked, coffin in hand.

"We'll go back first and see if there's anything inside," Ruan Baijie said. "I'm guessing the key's in the coffin—once we get the key out, everything's smooth-riding from there."

Lin Qiushi mentally hoped that this would be so.

When they got home, Cheng Wen had come awake after being knocked out. He was seated in the living room with a dull expression, not greeting them even as they came in with the coffin. He seemed to have completely lost his mind.

Lin Qiushi saw this and became worried, murmuring, "it's not because I hit him, is it?"

Ruan Baijie, "oof…"

Lin Qiushi, "fuck man, it was just a little smack…"

Ruan Baijie comforted him: "well if he's lost it he's lost it, it's not like anyone's making you take responsibility. Besides, fools aren't scared of ghosts, so didn't you actually do him a favor? You're his benefactor!"

Lin Qiushi, "…" Ruan Baijie why are you such an expert at this.

Due to Cheng Wen's actions yesterday, nobody really wanted to mind him. Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke acted like they didn’t see him.

"Let's open it," Xiong Qi announced as he set the coffin down.

"Okay," Lin Qiushi nodded. He and Xiong Qi each took one side and applied force, lifting the coffin lid.

With a click, the coffin came open. A woodsy humidity came pouring out. Xiao Ke was the most on-edge. As soon as she saw the lid was open, she stuck her head in to see if the thing they wanted was inside the coffin.

"Found it!! The key!!" The next moment, Xiao Ke's joyous calls sounded. She seemed on the verge of happy tears, amped up with emotion. "It's really here, it's really here!"

Lin Qiushi looked, and saw in Xiao Ke's hand an old green copper key. The key's design was quaint, and gave off an antiquated air. The handle of the key was stained with a red liquid. In the past, Lin Qiushi might have thought it was paint or something. But now, he could sense that smear of red was fresh human blood.

"We got the key, we got it!" Xiao Ke held onto that key as her tears fell with vigor. She seemed on the brink of an emotional breakdown as well.

She may act calm day-to-day, but in the end, she still almost couldn't bear the pressure of dying.

"The door should have appeared too, we can start looking for the door." Xiong Qi's tone held fatigue as he continued, "we have to hurry, there's not a lot of us left."

"Where does the door usually appear?" Lin Qiushi didn't have any experience in this area.

"It's often around where we live, and isn't hard to find," Xiong Qi replied. "But I haven't experienced a thirteen-people world either, so… I'm not sure."

"Okay." Lin Qiushi looked at the key in Xiao Ke's hand, and thought at least they found the key.

Ruan Baijie wasn’t overtly emotional. She said, "and the key? Who's in charge of the key? I don't trust her to do it."

On the receiving end of this dubiety, Xiao Ke grew angry. "What do you mean by that? You don't trust me? What, you think we trust you to keep it?"

Ruan Baijie was unruffled. "This doesn't just concern me. If you lost the key, we all die inside this door. Are you sure you want to be in charge of it? Think it through."

Xiao Ke's face went green, then pale. She moved to say something, but then Xiong Qi pressed a hand to to her shoulder. He said, "Qiushi, why don't you take it."

Lin Qiushi started. He didn't think this would fall to him. He was about to refuse when Ruan Baijie openly expressed her agreement, and then got close to whisper in Lin Qiushi's ear, "just take it."

Lin Qiushi frowned. "But it's my first time in a door, I don't have much experience…"

"That's fine," Xiong Qi said. "We all trust you."

"Alright," Lin Qiushi could only agree.

He took the key and examined it closely. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought this was just your regular old copper key.

Xiong Qi said they'd been up all night, and suggested eating something before discussing the door's whereabouts. Lin Qiushi seconded the idea.

And so Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke went to the kitchen to make food. Lin Qiushi and Ruan Baijie remained in the living room to keep an eye on Cheng Wen.

"Why did they give the key to me?" Lin Qiushi still couldn't understand.

"Because the key's not a good thing," Ruan Baijie said. "The people holding it die particularly fast." She smiled, and prodded Lin Qiushi's forehead with the tip of a finger. "Of course, you don't have to worry about that."

Lin Qiushi, "hm?"

Ruan Baijie suddenly lowered her head and caught the rim of Lin Qiushi's ear in a nibble, murmuring, "I found the door."

Lin Qiushi's eyes went wide. "What?"

Ruan Baijie, "shh, keep it down."

Lin Qiushi quickly tamped down his voice, asking hoarsely, "what did you say? You found the door?"

"Yeah." Ruan Baijie was grinning, and she seemed to have developed a great interest in Lin Qiushi's ear. Her fingers glided up and down and up and down the rim, and Lin Qiushi kept feeling the itch. "You wanna know where it is?"

If this were under normal circumstances, all of Lin Qiushi's attention would surely be on the hands that were fondling his ears. But right now, Ruan Baijie's words were too shocking—he couldn't care about anything else. "If you know where it is, why didn't you say… ah??"

There was a sudden sting in his earlobe. Lin Qiushi drew in a sharp breath. "What are you doing?" He reached up and touched, only to find that Ruan Baijie had stabbed his right ear clean through with an earring.

"Nothing." Ruan Baijie kept up an innocent expression. "I just thought you'd look good with this earring, that's all."

Lin Qiushi kept touching the piercing in shock. For a moment he didn't know whether to ask more about the door or the earring. Ruan Baijie didn't give him a chance to react either, and continued, "that door is actually very close to us. We can go back tonight."

"Xiao Ke and Xiong Qi?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Them?" Ruan Baijie didn't seem to have a very good impression of the two. "Depends on my mood I guess."

Lin Qiushi said, "if we can… let's bring them back with us." Though Xiao Ke's temper was poor, Xiong Qi treated them well at least. Plus, they'd all been through a lot together.

"You," Ruan Baijie said, "you're just too soft-hearted." She smiled. "But I like you this way."

When he heard this, Lin Qiushi felt his face go red for some reason. He said, "stop teasing me already."

Ruan Baijie smiled, but didn't speak.

After Ruan Baijie's interruption, Lin Qiushi completely forgot to ask about the earring; all his thoughts were on the evening ahead. It wasn't until Xiong Qi returned and asked why there was something extra on his ear, that he realized Ruan Baijie had distracted him again.

"Do you think it looks bad?" Ruan Baijie said. "Why are you blowing me off? Do you have another woman?"

Lin Qiushi, "…don't be unreasonable."

Ruan Baijie instantly became champion whiner: "oh my god you called me unreasonable, you're so mean, uwaaa…"

Lin Qiushi, who had never had a girlfriend before, could only look on in despair.

Author's Note:

Ruan Baijie: first mark all the stuff that's yours.

Lin Qiushi, confused: stuff? What stuff?

Ruan Baijie: ♂ stuff you can eat.

[Ch. 11] | [Ch. 13]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒

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