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velvet-paradox · 1 year

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Intense

Fandom: Sleep Token (Band) Pairing: Vessel x Female reader x III Length: Long Summary: Your eepy roommates suggest they can help you out. Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, LISTEN UP PUNK I know what I'm about ok and I shouldn't even have to to explain this but for ffs this is for funsies, fictional purposes only. I don't know these British men and I don't claim to! But am I having an absolute ball listening to them everyday day since I heard Dark Signs??? Absolutely. I have not and will not know peace on Earth ever again so with that being said... my lizard brain wants to shoot my shot and get sandwiched between Vessel and III (purely based off their on stage personas) and I'm pretty sure all us worshippers would enjoy kneeling and begging for forgiveness for all the eepy guys. DON'T LIE TO ME; I'll know. ;) One late night thot lead us down this path so here ya' go, we've got: strong language, explicit content, MFM relations, polyamorous activities, kissing, oral (m receiving), p in v, protected sex, unprotected sex (don't do it!), double vaginal, dirty talking, creampie III is a mess, Vessel is along for the ride and you're indulging in the spoils of detailed smut. Tagging: @synnersaint my ride or die

ENJOY!!!

You stare at the red numbers on the clock next to your bed. You blink.

Unfortunately unfazed by the hum-drum pace and the position you've found yourself in.

Ugh, how did this happen again?

The man on top of you, circling his hips against your own, balls deep in your cunt should be fun, exciting, a turn-on at least but you just laid there, once again, taking it but not getting anything out of it. You faked it the last three times just to get him to get off you, out of your apartment and out the door so you could finish yourself off with some post nut clarity. Which is what you should've done in the first place.

The first time you had sex with him, you chalked it up to nerves. It'd been a few months for him and a bit longer for you at this point. The second time you excused it as you did go out for drinks earlier in the night and the last one was just plain awful. No foreplay, bit your neck too hard and pretty much gave you a titty-twister which was not fun; at all.

But he's nice! And funny, easy to talk to you and here you are, making more excuses for a man who can't even get you off. This is just pathetic, girl.

You felt bad faking your enthusiasm but even as you moved in unison with him, hearing him huff and grate out oh my fucking god for the fifth time, he didn't even have a clue.

So you dialed it up, two more minutes had passed with him just thrusting inside you, he didn't even notice you weren't as wet as before. What a fucking disaster.

You sighed and made your O face, biting your lip and holding his waist, the slapping of skin sped up briefly before he pulled out with a groan of your name, panting as he jerked himself, tore off the condom and came on the inside of your thigh.

Fucking finally.

Your date was quick to get dressed, mentioning something about an early shift change. He gave you chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, cupping your face as an afterthought as you followed him out of your bedroom.

"I'll text you when I get home. I-- oh!"

You bounced against his back, stunned as to why he's just stopped like that when you peer around his frame. There on the couch in your living room sat your roommates.

"Oh my-- what are you guys doing home?" You asked, frantically looking between the two sober faces and their luggage by the front door. Well more like the painted chin of one and the eyes of the other. You were hyperaware of the drying cum on your leg and crossed your fingers and toes they didn't hear your activities or what remained to be seen.

"We live here, remember?" Vessel waved one of his hands, III nodding along.

"When you said you had roommates I just assumed they were other girls." Your bedfellow side talked to you as to not alert your boys.

"Is that a problem?" You asked.

"No I just uh," he looked at III when he stood, an attempt to intimidate. "It's fine um... I'll call you."

"Well that was rude," Vessel announced, joining his brother after he left. "Didn't even introduce himself."

"He won't be around for long. I wouldn't worry about it." You dryly chuckled before embracing both of them. Vessel cupped the back of your head, pressing his chin into your hair before letting III swoop you up in his gangly arms and gave you two solid spins. "Put me down! You reek."

"Ah, the mask has seen better days I'm afraid. Can't wait to get a hot shower and something in my belly. Road livin' ain't what its' cracked up to be, ya' know?" III admitted.

"Um, let me get changed and I'll make you guys some food," you jogged out of the living room, calling over your shoulder. "Lord knows what you boys eat on the road!" ....

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," You paused the movie and turned to face Vessel on the chaise lounge part of the couch, long limbs sprawled out, ankles crossed and rocking. "What's up?"

Vessel twisted his painted mouth before asking an out of pocket question. "Why do you torture yourself?"

Taken aback you wondered what he meant and crossed your legs. "What? What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." When you showed your genuine confusion, he sat up. "Your little boy toy. Not that III and I have been cheeky little perverts and eavesdropping on your late night escapades but... we can't help but be concerned. Either you're a silent climaxer, some people are and that's totally fine and we're bold to assume or your partner isn't doing it right."

"Excuse me?"

"We've only been home a few weeks and we've heard him far more than we've heard you," Vessel explained, ignoring your anxious fidgeting and cuticle picking. "What we have heard though, is a lot of buzzing after your friend leaves."

Oh. My. God.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, desperate to get out of, out of your body and on the run. Blood pounds in your ears at the audacity of this whole conversation. Your roommates have heard you getting off, know you have toys, know your friends with benefits is lacking the benefits part and that you'd not been taken care of. You wished it was still cooler out and you could grab the usual throw off the back of the couch and hide away underneath.

"What are you guys talkin' about?" III popped in, holding a glass of chocolate milk, an absurdly long and coiled straw was hidden beneath his mask as he sucked dramatically.

Vessel smirked. "Oh just Y/N and how her new beau can't get her off."

"Oh finally! I've been dying for this conversation," III exclaimed and excited plopped down next to Vessel, scooching closer and leaning forward as he drank some more. "So what gives? Give us the goods."

"I don't... he knows what he's doing, it's just--"

"It's just he's bad at it." III giggled.

"I can get off, okay?"

"Yeah, we know that. Just not with him."

"I... fine. It might not even be him you know," you tried. "Maybe it's me. Maybe I can't get out fast enough."

Vessel quirked his mouth. "Get out of what exactly?"

"My own head. I think too much, you know that. I need to feel everything in order to shut my brain off and not worry about how many loads of laundry I need to do, when I need to switch out my sheets, did I pick up my towel in the bathroom? What should I have for lunch tomorrow."

The boys looked between themselves, shrugging and looking bewildered. "You... you think about all that stuff all while having sex?" III snorted and shook his head. "You're a madwoman, you know that?"

"I'm trying not to think of those things!"

"That's what I was afraid of," Vessel took III's now finished drink away from him and set it down. "If you want, we could help you out. Save you the trouble and the energy and uh, some battery power."

You chuckled. "You're joking. You two are gonna' help me out."

"Just say the word and we belong to you," Vessel crooned, licking his top lip. The pink of his tongue was such a juxtaposition to he obsidian black that covered his face, his arms and hands, his body. "This could be a one time deal, if it's not up to your standards, we don't have to mention it ever again or... it could be a three times a week sort of thing."

"Three times a week?!" You screeched.

"That's up to you."

....

"So uh have you guys like... done this before?" Your voice doesn't even sound like your own, shaky, breathy, uneven and higher pitched. You pointed between the duo and yourself. You hadn't but your incognito search history might say you've looked at it a few times.

They admitted their deep rooted feelings about you. Your stomach flipped for Vessel's breathy pet name of Duchess, your toes curled for III's Sweetness.

With the way they looked at you, you couldn't even remember his name at this point.

Vessel shrugged. "Just with you."

"Just me?" You balked, you knew the guys were close, sometimes skin tight so to find out they'd not acted out was stunning and a major green light. "Oh um, I'm flattered. iI think."

"You should be. III isn't much of a talker, speaks his mind when need be."

"Unless its' dirty." III piped up with a shrug of his own, with the way his eyes wrinkled you could tell he was all smiles under that mask.

"A little tact there, brother!" Vessel scolded him, giving a backhand to his arm. "Don't scare her off."

"What? She should know. You should know. I am dripping with sin."

"III!"

"What? We're all adults here, right? An' we're talking about fucking each other so who cares?! And she might even like it. Do you like dirty talk, sweetness?" III asked with a tilt of his head.

"Uh I um... I. Well..."

"Do you," III stood and got closer, much closer, swaying his way to close the gap between you. He stood with his legs on the outside of your own. He tilted his head the opposite way and kept his eyes trained your face, the heat from the eye contact made you hot. His painted thumb touched your chin. "Like that?"

You'd never felt this kind of intimacy, this heightened level of attraction and arousal and it made you nervously laugh at the thought that it was radiating off your friends like a fucking forest fire.

You swallowed. "Yes."

"Aha! Knew it. Those pretty eyes and that fucking mouth are hiding plenty of secrets, yeah?" III pointed, that thumb of his traced along your jaw before pushing gently on the underside, making you look all the way up at him.

If they wanted to play, you thought, I guess... let's play.

"Maybe."

"Oh! Now we're getting somewhere," III chuckled and looked over at Vessel before touching your shoulder, moving the strap of your sleep shirt back and forth. His hands were hot, scorching your skin as he touched the light fabric. "Should I undress you or should you undress me? Or maybe Vessel wants to unwrap us both. What do you think?"

"I think--" your throat constricted before keeping his ardent eye contact. "I think I want to undress you first."

III liked that idea, he wiggled his shoulders and raised his arms. "I'm all yours, mama."

....

His hoodie is the first thing to go, floating down to the floor. A black compression shirt separates flesh and bone, it comes off easily over his head. He's only half painted there. You can see streaks of his skin, soft and smooth, hidden from view. His stomach tightens when you trail your hand down his chest, foreign to your hands.

"I think about you, ya' know? Not to be pervy or bold but... you are the prettiest thing we've ever seen."

His compliments make you warm, you clench around nothing.

He suddenly grabs your hand and moves it higher. "Feel that. You make my heart fuckin' pound like crazy. The first time I saw you in that green sundress, you know, the one with the little daises on it... fuck me," III admitted and dramatically bit his fist. "I've never been so hard in my life!"

You know the dress in question. It's hanging in the front of your closet. Guess it'll be making a debut and turn III on once again.

"Oh yeah? Well maybe next time I wear it... I won't wear anything underneath."

III made the deepest of groans, moving your hand down his ribs while he undid his belt. "Fuckin' hell, don't tease me woman."

"You don't like that?"

"I like it too much! That's the problem."

His zipper was so fucking loud, it cut through the room like a hot knife. Smooth and seamless, even Vessel had to clear his throat. You looked over at him on the chaise, legs wide spread, lithe arms outstreatched over the back cushions. With three separate eye holes in his mask, it was hard to tell where he was looking but in this moment you felt them boring straight into your own.

"Keep going," he hummed and visibly bit his lip. " 'm enjoying the show."

With III was just in his boxers, it was your turn. Your disrobing would be a lot quicker as you were in a light pajama set and crew socks. You mmiiced III and raised your arms above your head, his nimble fingers danced over your sides, dragging the material up and over your head. He tossed to Vessel, who out of your peripheral, had inhaled your scent on it. He did the same with your shorts. The rush of cool fan air make your skin prickle, your clit throbbed when you fully noticed the outline of III's cock. Jesus.

III got on his knees and lifted one your feet, gripping your ankle.

"No. Keep them on." Vessel spoke, pushing himself up off the couch and sauntered over to you, fully nude and on display. He embraced your face, pressing his forehead to yours before slinking behind III when he stood.

Vessel's painted arms looped around III's, locking them behind his back. III made a noise.

"Take him out," Vessel instructed with a low gasp. "Take him out and see what you do to him. Same as what you do to me. Hell, all of us, duchess."

ALL OF US?!

Before you got on your own knees, you touched III's hips, hooking your thumbs just beneath the fabric and dragged them down. His cock made the softest and prettiest thud against his lower belly. Your eyes bounced from their faces, down to his leaking cock and back again.

"He wasn't lying," Vessel chuckled, his chin now draped over III's shoulder. You met his eyes. "You make him rock fuckin' hard, love. Want her to take all o' that? Nah... you need her to take care of that, don't you?"

"Fuck yes." III whined. "Please."

"How are you gonna' help our good boy, love?"

III shook before your even touched him, you on your knees before him was enough to have him looking frantic. Completely at your and Vessel's mercy, you took him in your hand first, getting familiar with his length before dipping your head in worship, opening your mouth. You hesitated for the briefest of moments before angling him deeper and further into your mouth.

It was a good thing Vessel was holding him up because you felt and saw III's knees wobble once you got your stride, gliding your hands up and around his thighs, arching closer with your fingers reaching his ribcage. Your palms against his skin felt every twitch, every jolts, every fucking sigh. The noise that strangled out from his throat when you dragged your nails down his stomach had you clenching around absolutely nothing.

"That's it, you're doing such a good job, love bug. Atta' girl, get 'em off real good, yeah?"

"Yeah yeah, fuck yeah," III whined and bucked his hips, "Your mouth feels so fucking good. Suckin' me off real sweet, mama. Give it to me."

"She's good with that mouth, hmmm?"

"Oh fuck V...wait 'til she oh shit, right there-- wait 'til she's gaggin' on you. O-oh my God."

When III took the Lord's name in vain it sounded so sweet in comparison to your other lover. You could feel yourself getting wetter, more powerful than you ever had with him. You took their words of praise, locked them in a little safe in the back of your mind for safe keeping.

"You're lucky I don't shove your ass out of the way then." Vessel teased and III mewled with delight.

....

III made grabby hands at you, wiggling his fingers as he laid out on the chaise part of the couch. He wiggled, tapped and pointed towards his mouth too.

When you climbed on top of him, his arms engulfed you, bringing you chest to chest. You kissed his face over his mask, startled when he suddenly pulled the chin part of it up to his nose and kissed you for real. You whined and kissed him back harder and faster, tasting his mouth, licking inside of it. He smacked and grabbed your ass, groaning against your lips.

"You two are fuckin divine," Vessel breathed, shouldering off his robe finally, unzipping his own jeans. "Fuckin’ hell, what a sight."

You turned your head to his silky voice, watching him stroke himself.

You were in big fucking trouble.

III nipped your arm. "Want you. I want you so fucking badly. Think it'll fit? Think you can take it?"

You took a breath and held his cock, hot and ready against your pussy. Rocking against the crown, splitting your lips to ready you for him. You licked your lips and lowered down on it, your mouth instantly opening. "Fuck yes."

"Good God!"

"Shit... a little more, love and you'll take him all the way in. That's it." Vessel cooed and pet your head, then your face. "Kiss him again."

With his heavy hand on your head you kissed III tongue first, the sounds of you two kissing had Vessel praising both of you, leaving him breathless.

III grabbed your hips, rolling and fucking up into you, breathing you in.

You and III stilled at the sudden dip of the couch.

Vessel's hand on your shoulder, his other ghosted and trailed over III's mask and vulnerable chin and mouth behind you. He lost it at that, whimpering against your cheek, a new flood of arousal coating your walls.

"Just relax pretty girl. We've got you, we got you."

"What are you--"

Vessel's thick fingers reached around your front, pressing and swirling down around your clit. "We're both gonna' fit. Just remember to breathe for us, ok?"

Holy shit. This was intense.

III's arm surged up and over your shoulder to touch Vessel, ghosting over his naked hip, gripping his bare skin.

"I've got you both. Trust me."

It was your idea to lift up, empty of III only to arch and take a deep push of Vessel. You frowned and touched III's face when Vessel pulled completely out. You both gasped when he spat. III squirmed and whined, the sudden intrusion of Vessel lining them both up against your hole, wedging their cocks inside you.

It didn't necessarily hurt, more pressure than anything and for fucks sake, you'd never felt so full in your life.

"Fuck V! Give us a warning, holy fuck." III breathed when the frontman started to rock and move. After a few minutes of fucked out bliss, it seemed like Vessel was fucking III through your body.

He smeared his face along your spine, your shoulder, leaving wet open mouthed kisses along your neck and ear.

"Good fucking God duchess, you are absolutely soaked for us, aren't you? Can feel you really start to open up for us now, yeah? Fuck you're amazing. Isn't she?"

"Ye-yeah yeah. Positively sweet," III's eyes sparkled in an amorous way. You kissed him hard. "Can't wait to have a taste of you, sweetness."

The thought of him working his mouth on you made you keen and fuck down on them.

Limbs twisted and tangled, Vessel nipped a small, incredibly sensitive spot behind your ear before licking the shell of it. Humming and praising you with that gravely timber. He was touching you, holding onto one of your tits for stability and III did the same, using just the pad of his thumb to pebble your other nipple.

You would never recover, that much you were sure of. They were out for pain and pleasure.

On a particularly hard thrust from III your moan slipped into sex drunk chuckle. "I think she likes it."

"I'm in fuckin' heaven." You breathed, reaching back to touch Vessel's thigh, digging your nailbeds in deep.

"That's it, you fuckin' naughty thing." His hand left your breast and found a new home around your throat, turning your head to face him and receive a sloppy kiss. III moaned at that.

"You two are fuckin-- ah shit. I'm close, fuck. Give it, give it to me."

Vessel's laugh against your lips made your walls constrict.

"Just like that!" III practically yelled, digging his fingers into your thighs, alternating to your hips, changing the tortuous pace. "Fuck, 'm gonna' bust, sweetness. Fuckin' cum inside you all nice and deep. Make it stick."

"Fuck me." You hung your head and rode it out, nothing but pure pleasure and bliss was shared between the three of you. And it was worth it. "Oh you guys... aha! I'm gonna' cum."

You couldn't remember the last time you came that hard with a partner and never with two! They both rubbed their hands and mouths over your skin, groping over your sandwiched body. Vessel's chest stuck to your back like glue, III grabbed and pushed both of your breasts together as he came shortly after with a grunt of your name, stringing along a beautiful array of obscenities.

"I've got you, I've got you both in my clutches now." Vessel's voice sounded like silk on glass next to your ear as he continued to thrust, spearing III's load all over your gummy walls. III reached out a lazy hand and Vessel took it, lacing their fingers together over your shoulder.

Skin on skin on skin.

III leaned up for another smooch with you greedily enjoyed, smacking your spit and lips together until all you could feel and hear was Vessel shudder behind you.

....

Vessel couldn't stop smiling as you giggled, helped to your bedroom, wedged between them on your bed as they cleaned you up. You would certainly need to clean up that side of the couch later. III was careful of your more tender bits, being stretched out and filled, removing black grease paint of where they were.

He drummed his fingers over your arms when he was finished, molding his body to yours. His head against the side of your neck. III soon joined in the snuggle, jumping into bed and under the covers with you. He gave you another kiss before pulling his mask back down, and pet Vessel's head.

Your phone buzzed when your boys had fallen asleep, you had a feeling of who it might be and if this is how the future looked; there was no way you were gonna' give this up.

#this kinda got outta hand but i'm into it so #these boys are so special #ugh i love them #little eppy boys #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token imagine #sleeip token fanfic #vessel x female reader #vessel x you #iii x you #iii x female reader #iii x reader #vessel x female reader x iii #vessel x you x iii #also there's not a whole lot of fics which is a tragedy cause these guys FUCK #part deux??#ENJOY!!!#heaven help me

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moorishflower · 2 years

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Apropos of the Addams family post from a few weeks back: Hob meeting Gomez and them immediately vibing. Freak4freak friendship. Taking one look at the horrific sublime and wanting to kiss it with tongue

GOD yes like I have trouble imagining writing Hob meeting Gomez Addams actually because the IPs are so different but if he ever did it would be IMMEDIATE recognition. Same hat vibes. Have you beheld my big beautiful spouse? Behold them and despair (the despair is lovely this time of year)

Like can you imagine Hob attending ANY function in the Dreaming, either as the Dreamlord's husband or his consort? Normal McNormalman wandering around amongst gods and fey and nightmares and angels and being so painfully ordinary and HUMAN that he loops back around to being just. The cryptid in the room. Everyone whispering to each other, "Does anyone know that guy? Who is that? Did he sneak in?"

Hob just happily chatting away eating canapes and mingling and discussing footie with satyrs and shit, and finally some asshole god or demigod strolls on up to him and clears their throat, and demands to know "Who are you? Why are you here? You're just some human."

And Hob blinks his big beautiful brown cow eyes and he says "Oh! I'm here with my husband! Here he is now!" And just simp mode activates IMMEDIATELY. Dream standing there in full nightmare regalia glowering daggers at whoever has dared to impugn the honor of HIS husband, visibly bleeding shadows while the unfortunate guest contemplates how swiftly their mortality is about to be ripped from their still-conscious body, and Hob tucks his arm through Dream's, "How's your night been so far, baby? Good party, the brownies seemed very interested in the latest scores for Manchester, think they might be close to setting up a league of their own, dunno who they'd play against though. Christ, you look fantastic tonight. Doesn't he look fantastic? We should definitely dance later, imagine how you'd look on the floor with all these shadows around you. Phwoar. Are you thirsty, darling?"

"Wine will suffice."

"Sure, love, be right back. Nice talking with you, mate!" And off he trots to the refreshments table, and meanwhile Dream has expanded to roughly 1.5 times his normal height and living darkness wreathes him in an aura of cold sweat and midnight shivers, and he has to lean down almost at the waist to address whoever this unfortunate SOB is. Blinking slow and deliberate, like a lizard eyeing a mouse.

"You are lucky. My husband is in a charitable mood. If you ever speak ill of him again. It will not be his mercy you must seek."

And Hob comes back with two glasses of wine right as Dream is straightening up, and the unfortunate god or demigod looks like they're about to simultaneously weep and piss themselves, and he gives Dream his drink and then in a smooth and seamless motion gets his arm around Dream's waist and dips the 8ft tall nightmare man. Logically, and based on their respective heights, it should not be that easy, but Dream is visibly enjoying it.

"My sweet," Hob is murmuring into Dream's clavicle, "my darling, my Dream. Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Yes. But tell me again."

And at this point Hob's would-be detractor takes the opportunity to flee, just as Hob is planting a line of smacking kisses up the Dreamlord's neck. "Beautiful," he's saying, "ravishing, stunning, awe-inspiring."

And after that there's a sort of flyer or pamphlet that gets circulated through a bunch of supernatural circles, with Hob Gadling's name and description and picture, THIS IS THE PRINCE-CONSORT OF THE NIGHTMARE KING, HE IS ALLOWED AND ENCOURAGED TO BE HERE.

#ask response #the sandman #dreamling

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ari-zonia · 8 months

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Decided to revamp my Sinner Slugcats so they're not all just multicolored scugs.

I did look into some of the symbols and stuff of the game, so the writing is more or less "Outlaw, Number", since I wasn't sure how to make a "Sinner" symbol in the RW language, so I just used Outlaw since it has the lowest Karma symbol anyway.

Intricacies under the readmore

Yi Sang: Inspired by daszombes' Deadlands video, he is a "Flying Slugcat", like a sugar glider or flying squirrel. He has no true flight, but it works

Faust: Some sort of Echo or associated. Has her own citizen ID drone of an unknown Iterator, and it also acts as a little scanner (inspired by @astragatwo's take on scug Faust). She still maintains Gourmand's crafting ability, but it might be more taxing with her smaller frame.

Don Quixote: A special breed of Slugcat meant to go fast, her legs are quite powerful, letting her make longer pounces or generally run faster than most other scugs. Obviously, her lack of weight makes her weak to poleplants/worm grass, but y'know.

Ryoshu: Similar to Spearmaster, but by way of King Vulture, she only has one spear directly connected to her that she can recall (it does not act like SM's feeding needles). Also, a subtle detail is that her ears are absolutely massive compared to most scugs, giving her enhanced hearing.

Meursault: (Perhaps a Purposed Being?) He has face armor not unlike a lizard, in fact he's about the same size as a blue lizard. His bite is quite powerful, and he's certainly the best to have in front going through pipes, as his face will deflect spears (should the scavs be aggro or something). He might also have better climbing ability, able to get on walls and such, but he's very heavy so idk

Hong Lu: Bioluminescent, like a fun mix of lantern mice and cyan lizards, he can "turn it off" as it were. His tail also can be used as a small flashbang, but obviously only once (per cycle). Of course, this helps with coalescipedes, but makes him a damn beacon otherwise.

Heathcliff: Still Artificer based, where explosions and such just don't really bother him and he's able to maul enemies (though obviously his bite is weaker than Meur's). He also has a pearl hanging around his neck of unknown use, but clearly given to him by someone special.

Ishmael: Rivulet, but even closer to salamander where she actually has fins, her ability to swim is obviously a cut above everyone else's. She's probably had a bad run in or two with Leviathans. Her cloak is probably a gift from whatever version of Queequeg this world has

Rodion: Also inspired by astragatwo, she's mega fluffy making her very warm. Though, this does make it annoying for her to swim if the area is cold because she'll freeze faster. I still like the idea she can carry more scugs on her, but idk. (She does look more like a fox, but such is the price of floof)

Sinclair: Saint-lite, and still pup-sized (he's an adult, just tiny like Don) so long as he's not at lowest Karma, he has limited ability to incapacitate enemies (not quite enough to ascend) and fly a bit with said ability. I basically wanted to reference his Mark of Cain somehow.

Outis: Ironically, just your average Slugcat. She probably has stuff going on with reputation or maybe she allows Echos to appear on first visit, or convinces Pebbles to not murder everyone immediately

Gregor: Definitely a creature that has been fucked with too much. Originally just a Slugcat that had been spliced with a centiwing (sorta like how the Miros Vultures are hybrids), he seemed to have got infected by the Rot, most likely when whatever Iterator structure he was hanging out around pulled a Pebbles

#ari art #rain world #limbus company #yi sang #faust #don quixote #ryoshu #meursault #hong lu #heathcliff #ishmael #rodion #emil sinclair #outis #gregor

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fandomfucker · 2 months

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Write ANYTHING for Zoey stark 😻😻 AND MY SOUL IS YOURS 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ANYTHING ISTG

Lost-Zoey Stark X Gn!Reader

Your soul, my dear 🤲

This is solely based off of myself having lost crickets the other day so enjoy my very real pain. This also features my real bearded dragon and his real name, I'm not afraid to block if anyone disses him or his name😤

Word Count: 1,785

3rd Person POV

Other than dogs and cats, Zoey was never the biggest fan of different kinds of pets. Like exotic pets.

Especially her partner's "lizard".

"How many times do I have to tell you? He's a bearded dragon!" Y/n joked with their girlfriend. Zoey just rolled her eyes at their typical antics, an adoring smile tugging at her lips.

"All right," Y/n started, gripping Zoey's hands to make her look directly into their eyes. This was serious business. "Are you sure you'll be okay feeding Turnip for a couple of days? 'Cause his vet can keep him just fine."

While both Zoey and Y/n worked in the WWE, they would often be given different opportunities for various things. Currently, Y/n was going to New York for a photo shoot with a magazine for a few days.

"Y/n," Zoey stared deep into their eyes, completely serious. "I promise I'll be okay. It's just some crickets and worms, I'll be fine. And I have Kai and Sly both here for emotional support if I'm not." She smiled, proud of herself for that statement.

Y/n stared at her with their eyebrow quirked but eventually released a small huff of a laugh and pulled Zoey in to give her a lingering kiss.

"I got this, I swear." Zoey looked at Y/n's face, seeing the lingering doubt on their face. "What, do you think I don't got this?"

Y/n pulled away and brushed Zoey's biceps. "I think you think you got this. But I have to go, my Uber's here. I see you in a couple days, okay?"

They leaned forward, giving Zoey another kiss before grabbing their luggage and making their way out the door to the car parked at the bottom of their driveway.

Zoey stood in the doorway, watching as her partner left, waving them all the way down the road until she couldn't see them anymore. She clasped her hands, rubbing them together as she walked back inside, making sure to shut the door behind her.

She looked at the pets who both sat in front of her, both of their tails wagging as she addressed them. "Alright, let's go feed Turnip."

Walking into the spare room they used to house Turnip's tank, Zoey went straight for the rolling cart of food next to it, picking up the plastic cricket keeper.

She brought them up to her eye level, cringing with disgust as she watched the crickets run continuously run over each other and their own shit. It was revolting.

Grabbing the feeding tongs, she sat down on the floor in front of the tank, meeting Turnip's bastardly face. The two had never liked each other very much but Zoey tried her best to keep the peace for Y/n's sake.

He tilted his head, staring at her with his beady little eyes as she struggled to get the lid of the crickets open. She managed to pop it open at the same time she turned around to yell at Kai and Sly for scratching at the door to get in. For reasons unknown, they both had an obsession with sitting in front of the tank and staring at Turnip.

She kept the lid as close to the top as possible so as not to let any crickets accidentally escape. Sliding the tank door open, she held the container inside the tank so that if any did come out they'd be inside of the tank.

Sliding the tongs into the container, she managed to catch one of the crickets fairly easily and held it out for Turnip who immediately stuck his tongue out, snatching up the cricket and chomping down on it loudly.

Zoey repeated this process a few times until he was full. She removed the cricket container, slid the tank door closed, and put the tongs back, popping the cricket lid back in place before going downstairs to wash her hands and watch TV for the rest of the night.

"And Y/n was worried about me," She scoffed to herself.

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

After dinner the next night, Zoey was sitting on the couch when she noticed her cat, Sly, fixated on something on the stairs.

Not wanting him to eat something he wasn't supposed to, she walked over to check out what had attracted his attention.

In the corner of one of the stairs, was a dead cricket. "How in the hell did that get in here?" She mumbled to herself, going to grab a napkin from the kitchen to pick it up.

The thought that it was one of Turnip's had crossed her mind, but she deduced that it was too big and had to be a wild cricket that must've gotten in through the garage or front door undetected.

So, she just threw it away and went about her business until later that night when going to check on Turnip before going to bed.

An unusually loud chirping caught her attention and she made her way over to the tank, where it was louder.

She picked up the keeper, causing the crickets in it to stop making any noises but the chirping continued. And not from inside the keeper she noted.

"No," She whispered to herself in horror.

She set the keeper down and began frantically searching for the source of the noise. She had left a cricket in the tank earlier in case Turnip had gotten hungry again and decided to have a little snack but no longer saw it there.

Twenty minutes later and every object in the tank had been turned over and searched. Even Turnip had been removed from the tank for a short time just to make sure.

That was when she noticed the giant hole for cords and such at the top of the back wall inside the tank.

The blood drained from her face as her eyes widened. “There's no way,” She spoke mainly to herself, before turning to Turnip who was eyeing her warily. “It couldn't have gotten up there, right? It can't climb a smooth surface.”

Still, Zoey put Turnip back on his basking rock inside the tank, closed it, and stood up, hands on her hips.

“Alright Turnip, brace yourself." She grabbed the front right corner of the tank and gently lifted it, dragging it towards her to pull it away from the wall.

Once it was far enough away that she could see behind it, she grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight.

Taking a deep breath, she shone it over the crack between the tank and the wall and peered into it.

On the floor, were not only three crickets walking around, but cricket shit littered the carpet.

She turned back to the keeper because how were there three back there if she only lost one?

And that was when she noticed that the lid had actually not fully closed shut and had not been closed this entire time.

"Oh my god," She clamped her fist over her mouth, not knowing what the hell to do.

Looking around in a panic, she grabbed the feeding tongs and decided she was going to catch them with the tongs and put them back in the feeder, easy peasy.

Except it was not easy peasy, as she held the tongs in one hand and her phone in the other, shining the flashlight on the crickets as they ran away.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Zoey scrambled around with the feeding tongs, trying to pick up the damn bastards to no avail.

She finally caught one, holding it away from her and cringing as she dropped it in the feeder. She fully closed the top lid this time to make sure no others escaped and opted to use the one-way side flap to dump them back in.

A few minutes later, and having pulled the tank away from the wall even further on both sides, one more cricket was caught and returned to the keeper. Two down, one to go.

Zoey ran back and forth to either side as the cricket ran, moving things out of the way beside the tank to make sure she didn't lose it.

She kept just missing the cricket as it would jump out of the way of the tongs at the last second every time.

And then she lost it under the bookshelf. "Damn it!"

Leaving the room to grab a wooden ruler small enough to go underneath the shelf, she passed her pets who were thoroughly judging her.

Walking back into the room, she got down on her knees and began swiping the ruler underneath the shelf, in the hopes that she'd catch the cricket with it and drag it out.

After fully sweeping back and forth several times, Zoey came to the horrifying conclusion that it must've crawled out without her seeing it. It then dawned on her that it could've been behind the bookshelf.

Grabbing her phone for the flashlight once again, she began using her camera to see the crack between the shelf and the wall.

With the pets at her feet, Zoey watched the videos she'd taken back, noticing something on the middle of the wall.

And sure enough, checking on the other side of the shelf with the flashlight, there the little fucker was. On the wall. Somewhere she couldn't reach.

After several futile attempts and two hours later, the cricket was still somewhere behind the bookshelf as far as she knew.

Exhausted and damn near crazed, Zoey turned to Kai who had stuck around this whole time, lying in front of Turnip's tank watching Zoey. "I think we're just going to have to call it a night."

She reached out and pet his head before getting up and going to bed, after making triple sure the cricket keeper was closed.

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

A few days later and Y/n was finally home, much to Zoey's delight.

They sat on the couch together, tangled up in each other's bodies with Kai and Sly lying by their feet. "Babe," Y/n gently nudged Zoey's head where it lay on their shoulder. "I need to get up to put my clothes in the dryer."

Zoey shifted her head to look up at them and kissed their jaw. "You stay here, I'll get it." And pushed herself up out of their comfy embrace, giving Y/n a small kiss before making her way to the laundry room.

As Zoey got closer, she noticed something small on the ground right in front of the door on the carpet and bent down to get a closer look.

It was the goddamn cricket.

Relief and fear both flashed through her as she ran to grab the tongs. Whether it was dead or not it was going back in the keeper.

She successfully managed to relocate the cricket back to its rightful place and move her partner's clothes into the dryer without any suspicion from them.

As she returned to the living room and cuddled herself back up to Y/n, she decided that Y/n never needed to know what happened while they were gone.

#zoey stark #zoey stark x reader #wwe x reader #wwe superstars #wwe raw #wwe

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beevean · 8 months

Note

I find it very interesting (A.K.A. annoying) how the idw comic tries defending this whole "sonic never kills" nonsense by bringing up every bad person who's turned around. But they also blatantly ignore all the times Sonic did kill or was fine with letting someone die

Dark gaia

Time eater

King Arthur

Solaris

Erazor Djinn (eternal damnation)

Ifrit

Captain behemoth

Bio Lizard

Explicitly tells Infinite he's going to kill him

The Ifrit (the one from Sonic rivals 2)

Captain whisker

Black Doom (Shadow was the one who finished him off, but the point is Sonic has no problem with other people killing either)

The idw comic's writing only barely functions if you blatantly ignore everything outside of it, and even then, it's still extremely iffy.

Secret Rings is canon to IDW, btw. Sonic had a flashback to the events of that game in #16.

"Everyone deserves a chance to be free, even the evil doctors," Sonic says after he yeeted Erazor Djinn in lava :)

Also yeah, some of these are creatures whose level of sapience is questionable... but not all of them. Solaris never speaks in his full form, but Mephiles is explicitly his mind, so we know that he's a cunning, sadistic deity. Sonic slashed King Arthur fully believing he was a real person, and he did act like one. Also Sonic is the very first person Shadow meets in his game, and the very first thing he asks of him is to kill all the aliens in Westopolis, with the goal ofc of reaching the "big boss" if you go through the Pure Hero route. Again, the sapience of the Black Arms is questionable, but those are still living creatures who might as well be slaves for all he knows. Doesn't care! He'll kill them all!

Sonic doesn't have a rule when it comes to his enemies: he's not a pacifist, he's not the Punisher. He either listens to them, or cuts to the chase: it depends on how unrepentant they come across. The very idea of him having a "principle" about it is ridiculous. Sonic doesn't have principles, he doesn't follow rules, he does what he wants to do.

I get the moral dilemma around Mr. Tinker: he's a blank slate genuinely willing to do good, so does he deserve to be punished for crimes he didn't commit? I don't know why Flynn felt the need to insert such a moral dilemma in a book that he himself has said is for kids and thus can't properly explore the concept of identity and sins, but whatever.

Problem is that, somewhere along the line, they started to treat him not as a brain damaged version of Eggman who might as well be a different person, but as "Eggman reformed", which is insane and even creepy from Sonic. It's just absurd that IDW Sonic based his entire moral code, that everyone has the chance to become a better person, after he witnessed his war criminal of an archnemesis simply getting brain damage, and somehow thinking that this amnesiac personality reflected Eggman's real ego. What the fuck.

Oh, and then this ridiculous shit lmao:

Not only Sonic would never play villain apology for Eggman of all people, but those examples are nothing but proof of how selfish Eggman is. He never cared about protecting the planet because of some hidden depths. My man spells his reasoning out very clearly:

But now Sonic passes off those strained alliances as some good deeds and proof that Eggman is not so bad after all. "Grade-A jerk", huh? Is that how you describe the guy who broke the planet into pieces and was willing to destroy the spacetime continuum for the sake of killing you? What's next, is Black Doom with his plans of turning humanity into cattle "a big meanie"? Why are you trying so hard, man?

Ah, and then he has to resort to guilt tripping Shadow about his own "crimes" (read: being forced to follow Gerald's programming) to get his way :) piece of shit who pretends to be morally superior when in reality he's just an awful person.

#fans don't look #man this writing #it's so bad #btw unrelated but i want to be a bitch #i re-read 5 looking for some pages and jesus the level of forced references in early idw #'mr. tinker is a good man? but eggman is dangerous! hey remember the egg viper?'#bro i do remember the egg viper stop dangling it in front of me to pretend you're a fan like me

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silentwillowwhisperer · 8 months

Note

Okay do you agree with me that we were severely deprived of Ezor, Zethrid, Axca, and Veronica content? Because they would be the ultimate lesbian squad like

Do not even. Get. Me. Started.

Too late.

(warning: this is a loooooong post.)

My poor girls, they were so perfect! And don't forget Narti (blind lizard gal) because as much as I think Lotor's whole villain arc thingy was dumb, I will NEVER forgive him for killing her. Never ever ever.

I do refer to them as Lotor and the Lesbians in my head, so I think it's pretty clear what I think about them. (Small note: If they were a band that would be their name.)

And Veronica! She was so cool! You know she steals all the girls her brothers bring home. Like, 'Oh you met someone cool at work? I'm just gonna take her off your hands...' Let's be real, if Veronica was not a fictional character, she would be a notorious lady charmer.

And COME ON. Ezor and Zethrid were LITERALLY DATING. I will take NO ARGUEMENTS. Do we not remember that whole episode where Zethrid went berserk on the paladins cuz she thought Ezor was dead?? And how they looked lovingly into each other's eyes? They had an END SCENE together! Well, it wasn't about them, it was that thing about Keith taking over command of the blade but WHAT-EVER. They were 2 feet away from each other because they were inseparable and in. love.

look at them.

Wait I can do better:

I'm gonna scream.

And, yeah, they were technically canon but this doesn't count. If Shiro and the dude he married (..Curtis?) get a canon kiss then so do Ezor and Zethrid.

Before I start my little spiel and Veronica and Acxa, I'm just gonna leave a picture of Narti here for those of you who don't remember her.

She was the one without eyes who could see through the eyes of her cat (honestly so real in a fictional way, love that for her).

Ringing any bells? Yeah, I cried when she died. (I made a rhyme!)

NOW.

Veronica and Acxa. They would have been SO CUTE together. And even if they didn't get together, at the very least they should have been best friends. Like the kind of best friends where Acxa is adopted into the McClain family to the point at which she can always be found there just chilling in their house like she owns the place. The kind of best friends that finish each other's sentences and know EVERYTHING about each other. GUYS. This was the VISION.

And you know what? I gonna put a picture of them here in just a sec, but you ALL know what I'm talking about when I say that they had a klance-style bonding moment.

Do not even try to tell me that they did not have potential. They're making awkward love eyes at each other.

(Also, the limited fanart that exists of them is SO. CUTE.)

Honestly, if the show really wanted to show representation that bad, then why couldn't these ships be real? Adam is great and all that, but if we're going to introduce a queer relationship in the name of representation, then maybe don't kill him off for the sake of drama after only about 5 minutes total screentime.

In fact, Shiro's whole thing was messed up. Yes, I get that he's a queer icon, but why are these things being forced on him? Instead of putting him with another character that also only got 5 minutes of screentime, maybe his end scene could be something like, 'Shiro went and finally got the therapy he deserved' or 'Shiro and Keith spent quality time together now that they were no longer separated' or even, 'Shiro retired from military business and built a comfortable life for himself as a coffee shop owner.'

He. Does. Not. Need. No. Man.

Based on the fact that he still has that Garrison-issued arm, he is still in relations with them in some way. And maybe he quit and just got to keep the arm, but that needed to be specified. Are we forgetting his previous trauma? His periodic flashbacks? The fact that his body was taken over by alien life and used to INJURE HIS YOUNGER BROTHER? The very same brother that he was a role model to?

And maybe we could have kicked Lance's scene out and instead shown him with his family? That would have been a great place to insert Veronica and show them actually bonding like family. Did anyone else find it weird that we got basically no scenes of them interacting in space? With their personalities, they should have been gossiping and having spa days left and right, but there was nothing of the sort.

Wait, I'm sorry, I got off topic.

Where was I? Oh yeah.

The most talked about example of queerbaiting is always Klance because as main characters, they're in the spotlight, but these closeted lesbians do in fact exist.

Why did we get Allurance but not Ezor and Zethrid? They were SO CLEARLY compatible and they weren't toxic to each other like Allura and Lance. My main argument against that ship is because of Klance, it's because Allura had just lost someone important and rebounded to Lance, and Lance constantly tried to be the rock for her that she wasn't ready to lean on. He finally had what he wanted from day 1, and realized that if he really wanted it to continue, he would have to change in ways he wasn't ready for.

If that kind of relationship gets a kiss, then Ezor and Zethrid should get one too. They spent their whole time on the show supporting and relying on each other.

#vld #voltron legendary defender #voltron #tawny post #asks <3 #thanks for the ask!#ezor vld #vld ezor #zethrid #zethrid vld #acxa #vld acxa #veracxa #veronica mcclain #veronica vld

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babiebom · 7 months

Text

Two songs I think would describe my relationship with each doctor (nuwho)

A/N: i clicked on a video expecting chaotic doctor who TikTok’s but instead got edits and now all I can think about is what song would play if someone made an edit of me and the doctor. These headcanons are very self indulgent lmao so maybe read at your own risk(nothing too scandalous lmao)

Tw: some cursing maybe, the genre is really sorta fluffy and angsty so idk what to put as a trigger warning idk.

Bc: at least 4 for each 1 for each song and 1 explanation for each of those songs

Doctor who Masterlist

Nine

Until I Found You-Stephen Sanchez and Em Beihold

Okay for this song it’s just if he had never met Rose and I was in her place. Because I do think that whoever he meets at this time(if he likes them) will change how he views everything like she did. Like he needed somebody in this point in time to show him how wonderful the universe could be again after he had lost everything. This song gives those vibes

Snowman- Sia

This is because he’s a sad sad angry man and like, I don’t want him to be sad. This entire song is just me and my sad bf I don’t want him to be sad but no matter what it’s him and me because who else is there?

Ten

Stay With Me- Miki Matsubara

If you read the English lyrics the song is Sadge and I think it fits what I think would be my vibe with him. He will never admit if he has feelings for me(prolly not lmao) and this is just him being like love and affection are different things and i have affection for you. And like just wanting to stay in the moment if not having to be upset because of feelings or anything, just want everything to be good so I can hold on to the good moments.

Heather- Conan Gray

Okay so I’m going with my own AU of me just being the companion of each doctor and like maybe stuff happening in between? I think at this point, the doctor wouldn’t really either admit if he does or doesn’t have feelings for me and ends up falling for someone else while we travel. Like maybe the Family of Blood happens or something in this universe and I get Martha-ed(she’s the loml and I’ll never forgive the show for doing her dirty) by him. This is just me being angsty.

Eleven

My Love Mine All Mine-Mitski

Literally just how i feel about him. I’m the only companion and the only one he ever sails off with, he’s mine all mine in a way. I love him, and even if the song is talking about requited love, mine is probably delulu and this is me being all head over heels prolly

Honey-Kehlani

Again a sappy song. Out of everyone else in the entire universe he somehow chose me to travel with him, because of him I finally found what I wanted to do with my life (be with him) cute cute cute but also delulu

Twelve

Shinuoga E-Wa -Fujii Kaze

If we’re going based off canon things, the doctor was kinda insecure about this new face(because it’s older? I’m going off of what lizard lady was talking about to Clara) and this is just me being like I really don’t care what you look like I’d rather die than be without you

A Thousand Years- Christina Perri

Like the last song this is literally me being like YOURE STILL ATTRACTIVE MY FEELINGS HAVENT CHANGED PLS :)

Thirteen

Take Me to Church- Hozier

I feel like out of these doctors that thirteen was more so of like…I’m keeping all of my personal information personal? Idk like the others knew more about the doctor than the fam knew? At least before their last season. So I feel like at this point she would be lying about a bunch of shit and I’d be like “okay :) I’ll believe everything you’re saying even though I know for a fact your bullshitting me rn”

Love Story- Indila

This is more so the second verse. Me being like “lmao I’m never leaving you” and her being like “I’m literally being an asshole and I forgot how to love” and me being like “idc I’ll literally fight for you. If you ignore me I’ll just offer you my life” kinda insane but also like an undying love sorta thing

Fourteen is the same as ten but less angsty :)

Fifteen

Best Friend-Doja Cat and Saweetie

Atp I think that our relationship probably would’ve evolved to a couple that has been together for a million years but instead of being tired of each other were more like best friends to the point where everyone thinks everything has always been platonic. Fifteen is a bad bitch I love him <3

I Will Always Love You- Whitney Houston

Because fifteen is still hella angsty. He’s acting like the therapy worked but it just helped him deal with everything probably. He needs to remember that no matter what I’ll always love him.

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artzzyb00-27 · 8 months

Text

{❤️Brotherly Advice❤️}

Mona Lisa/Y'Gythgba is here!

Y'Gythgba. His Mona Lisa. The most beautiful and strongest woman Raph's ever met. Well lizard lady, but his opinion still stands. Despite her scaled features, Y'Gythgba has been one of the sweetest souls he and his brothers have had the pleasure of working with.

Surprisingly enough, basing their initial opinions on an alien ship that landed in the water of the Hudson without people suspecting anything. When Donnie's UFO detectors went coocoo over a giant Star Trek looking navigating system, they all immediately panicked thinking it was another Krang attack. Turns out the Salamandrians were only there to retrieve an old artifact left by there ancestors on midgard while it was still in it's early stages of evolution.

Unaware of the fact that the turtles were friends and not foes a battle broke out. Specifically between the commander and his right hand. Their advanced spears and knives surprised the brothers but they were to hold their own. For about 8 minutes. Y'Gythgba came in and swept through the quartet and dazzled the second oldest. Her style of fighting resembled Tai Chi and Kung Fu mixed together.

Efficiently sweeping the red-clad turtle off his feet. Literally and poetically. After explanations rang out she pulled them up off the floor despite the height differences and apologized profusely.

"It's alright."

"Don't worry about, I respect a well trained fighter."

"No worries girl, I'll gladly get my ass kicked by a pretty girl."

"........" The brothers turned to look at Raph who was looking,... shy?

Gaining weird expressions Y'Gythgba thought Raph was angry at her still and went up to him.

"I really am sorry, I wouldn't have attacked on impulse if I knew you were on my people's side and would get upset about it." Shit. His heart sped up. By a lot. Panicking he quickly shot down her thought process.

"No, no no no! I'm not upset! I'm actually impressed you're really strong and kick ass!" Okay now Donnie thinks he's having a stroke. Cause how the hell did Raph get his ass handed to him by someone who's a whole smaller than him(he's 7,1) and not get embarrassed when she used her tail to lift him up like a 5 pound weight.

After reassuring that they weren't here to take over Earth, the turtles returned to their home and began questioning their brother.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"What?"

"The way you got all shell-shy with that lizard lady?" Leave it to Mikey to bombshell everything. This time though, Leo would let it slide, especially when his little brother seemed to gained a puppy crush after years. The only ones they've had were on celebrities. Men and women.

"What? She's awesome. I wanna take her to Tom's, sue me." Raph gained a nervous smile but was lost in thought. Leo smirked, he's got it bad.

"Wow, you've really got a crush on this Salamandra hottie?" Raph semi-glared at his little brother who through himself on his brother with an arm over his shoulders. Whilst Donnie smacked him on the back of the head for his brother. But continued on from the comment.

"I'll admit I'm surprised she's your type. She's smaller, stronger, and a more efficient fighter than any of us." Nodding in slight agreement, Leo thought about it a little. He didn't expect Raph to like a girl Y'Gythgba. He expected someone more cutesy and human. That is till-

"Exactly! What a woman." Yup. He's gone. Well, if it was going to continue, he wanted Raph to actually know what he was doing before hand.

"Well if you want any advice-"

"Please! You and bunny boy are going strong, no? You two can help-, no offence guys." The other two siblings shrugged and walked off to do something around the lair. Mikey probably went to go find Splinter and Donnie to work on an unfinished project. Rolling his eyes, leader in blue thought fondly of his small boyfriend. They'd been going strong for about a year and a half. So Leo became the Sudo for his younger brothers on how functional relationships work.

"Alright hold up, lemme call him." Pulling out his phone, Leo smiled into the call and asked his lover to come over. Raph found himself smiling too. Thinking it must feel nice to have someone be your outer-soul. Raph didn't like "other-half". To him personally, he was already whole, he's just adding some sprinkles to the perfect milkshake.

Ten minutes later, Usagi sped into the lair and threw himself at Leo who caught him and spun him around. Clearing his throat Raph turned their attention to him.

"Cute, but can we get back to my problem please?" Rolling their eyes they all went into Leo's room and closed the door for privacy.

"So what do you want to know?"

"Well I know how you got together, I was there." The pair smiled at the memory. These sick fucks. "But I want to know if you had plans to confess differently."

Thinking for a bit Usagi shook his head and turned to Leo. Sighing he started talking pulling Usagi closer.

"I wanted to ask him in place important to us. So first things first, form a platonic bond first. And not just one that's on and off talking. One where she becomes one of your best friends. That'll be easy seeing as you don't have many other friends to begin with." If he could, he would flip of Leo.

Usagi got the message somehow and pinched Leos' side with a smug look.

"If I hadn't been caught rambling about how hard I fell for this guy then I probably would've shown him somewhere that's important to me and confessed their. Like my hidey hole. Only Leo and Uki know where it is." That's why Leo turned off his location sometimes. Gross.

Thinking it over, Raph decided the next time he had the chance he would ask if Y'Gythgba wanted a T-phone to communicate with all of them easier. With the side intention of speaking one-on-one. Even better because the could set up private meetings easier without scouring the Hudson for an invisible ship.

So that's what he did. At least what he tried to do. When he found the ship he Y'Gythgba sitting on the edge of the ship looking out to the city. Piulling off some ninja moves(totally not to impress her) he landed next to her and sat down.

"Hi."

"Hello." She smiled. Ralph could only gaze into her eyes slightly. They were cognac brown and she had weirdly shaped pupils, but for some reason he found it cute. Made her more interesting to him.

"How you liking Earth so far?"

"It's beautiful, although I wish we didn't have to hide from most of the population."

"I hear you. Me and my brothers have to stay hidden to protect them. Sucks that they don't even know it's us and not the people who are supposed to defend them."

Tilting her head in confusion and thought she spoke again.

"That doesn't seem fair. You risk your lives for a civilization that doesn't even appreciate you."

Ralph chuckled softly. It was nice for someone other than him to be frustrated by the fact that, yeah, they risked their necks for people that would scream at the mere touch of them.

"It's not that bad. At least we get to pull pranks on people sometimes."

"Pranks?"

Light bulb. He knew how he could bond with her and show her how to relax Earth style. May Loki have mercy on Donnie's lab experiments.

#bay tmnt #tmnt 2016 #bayverse tmnt #bayverse turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016 #tmnt #bayverse tmnt fanfic #tmnt bayverse #tmnt oots #raph x mona #bayverse mona lisa #mona lisa #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt fanfic #tmnt out of the shadows #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt mona lisa

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pico-digital-studios · 7 months

Text

Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: Prime Encounter

This scene was co-written with @mcgamejolter. The scene is also based on this animation by DedGrafic.

During Cosmic Discoveries, OMT!Tails was thrown into the Prime Sonic universe by Lost Memory Sonic and knocked out from the impact. A few moments later, Sonic Prime/Modern Sonic showed up, seeing the alternate version of his best bud lying on the floor.

Modern Sonic: Huh? What's up with the blue shoes? Yo, Tails!

As he knelt down to have a closer look, another portal opened behind him, prompting him to leap out of the way as LM!Sonic showed up.

LM!Sonic: Urgh... You could've just stayed out of my business, Prower, and you managed to screw up even THAT.

He held OMT!Tails up by his ankle.

LM!Sonic: You should never have become the hero of your world. You're a mistake, child.

OMT!Tails (in a daze): Uh... Mom, I don't wanna go to school today... I've got a headache...

LM!Sonic: You're an abomination, a danger to others AND to yourself.

On cue, Sonic Prime sped right through him, moving OMT!Tails to a safe position before going back to confront his alternate self.

Sonic Prime: Hey, man. If you're part of Eggman's new army of creepy eyes, you'd better hit the hay if you know what's-!

LM!Sonic promptly bashed him out of the way.

LM!Sonic: SILENCE!

Once Sonic Prime impacted with a tree, his hands were quickly restrained via energy spheres.

LM!Sonic: To think you're the "Prime" version of myself. Disgusting... You once fragmented this reality, creating wars between dimensions and threatening thousands of lives. There's not much difference between you and this two-tailed freak; you're both ticking time bombs that could wreak havoc on reality.

Sonic Prime: Oh, brother. I found someone even grumpier than Shadow. Hey, what's up with you beefing about the whole Shatterverse incident that happened a while ago?!

Shadow Prime arrived on the scene.

Shadow Prime: Well, to be fair, he's right.

Sonic Prime: Hey, wow!

Shadow Prime (to LM!Sonic): However, that still doesn't justify why you've come here. So I suggest you leave now!

LM!Sonic glared at Shadow Prime hatefully, seeing ANY Shadow being his big berserk button.

LM!Sonic: Get out of my way! That sorry excuse of a sidekick is coming with me!

Shadow Prime: So it's the kid you want, huh?

Sonic Prime: Hey, now. I don't want another Nine situation, so I hope you're not thinking about giving Tails to red eyes over there-!

Right then and there, Shadow Prime charged at LM!Sonic as they engaged in combat.

Sonic Prime (genuinely surprised): Huh. I'm... I'm actually surprised.

As the fight went on, OMT!Tails wearily woke up, noticing Sonic Prime restrained.

OMT!Tails: Oh? Hang on! I'll get you down from there.

He disabled the spheres, letting Sonic come back down to terra-firma.

Sonic Prime: Thanks, dude! So... alternate universes... Tell me about it.

OMT!Tails: You know, I remember seeing you a few months back. Weren't you being chased by that robot that wanted the Paradox Prism?

Sonic Prime: Metal X? Yeah, that would be me.

OMT!Tails gasped in awe, his thoughts ultimately confirmed.

OMT!Tails: So you ARE Prime Sonic!

Sonic Prime: The one and only! Fastest thing alive with no-one to serve except the wind that flows free! What more can I ask for than the freedom to go wherever I want! Well... Except, it's clean-up duty again. Someone's gotta fix the mess Baldy McNosehair did.

OMT!Tails: Heh, figures. So, will Shadow be alright trying to fight off that psychopath on his own?

Sonic Prime: Shadow? Oh, please! He's fought a giant lizard and an alien god trying to destroy humanity. What else could some edgy-looking version of myself possibly do?

OMT!Tails: I mean, there's all sorts of variations of you out there, several of which have got this huge Society aiming to keep the wider multiverse safe!

Sonic Prime: So I've heard. I gotta admit, it's really weird seeing hedgehogs that look like me but with different-coloured fur across those multiversal stretches. Speaking of that... is it me, or was that a version of Nine I saw the other day?

OMT!Tails: It sure was!

Sonic Prime: So, where do you plan to go from here? Besides obviously running from that psycho.

OMT!Tails: Well, I've still got some more work to be doing with my own multiversal team once I get moving again.

On cue, LM!Sonic was kicked close to the two.

LM!Sonic: H-How is he so strong...?! This isn't fair! He should've fallen by now!

And fittingly, Shadow Prime kicked him right in the face.

Shadow Prime: Leave now, freak, unless you want me to kick your ass a second time.

Sonic Prime: (to Shadow) Nice work, Shadow! (to OMT!Tails) See? Told ya he could beat him no problem!

OMT!Tails: Heh, sweet!

LM!Sonic got up, frustrated.

LM!Sonic: You weren't even giving it your all! Urgh, Maria would be so ashamed of-.

OMT!Tails: Woah woah woah WOAH! Haven't you even researched the golden rule related to Shadows?

LM!Sonic: Enlighten me, "genius".

OMT!Tails: Do. NOT. Mention. Maria. Out loud. When Shadow is in proximity!

Shadow Prime cracked his knuckles, not at all chuffed with this version of Sonic speaking foul of Maria.

Shadow Prime: So unless you're looking for a death wish, leave our world... and never come back!

LM!Sonic: Fine, then! (to OMT!Tails) But this isn't over, fox! I'll get you yet!

LM!Sonic made his retreat through another portal.

Sonic Prime: Aaaand we'll never see him again.

Shadow Prime: You'd better get back to wherever you came from, Tails. We're not looking to get involved in whatever situation this is.

OMT!Tails: Yeah, that's a good call.

OMT!Tails prepared to leave.

OMT!Tails: Oh, yeah. Before I go, if it at least helps you feel a little better, Shadow, there's always at least one universe where she's alright. Well, see you both around!

OMT!Tails left, Shadow Prime being left to process Tails's words.

Shadow Prime: You know... I prefer him over Nine any day.

Sonic Prime: Oh, come on! Nine wasn't that bad either!

The two began running off.

Shadow Prime: Yeah, but at least this Tails didn't try to kill us.

Sonic Prime: Uuurgh! You're never gonna live that down, are you?

Shadow Prime: Nope.

Sonic Prime: You know what? I shouldn't have asked.

#sonic exe #sonic the hedgehog #spider verse #sth #sonic #sonic fandom #sth au #sonic au #spider man #sonic prime

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fairytalewonders · 18 days

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Cat Guessing Game

This is just something I wanted to do for fun - cat’s have been assigned different stereotypes about their coats of fur and what personality traits they have as such, so I want to see if people can guess the color of my cat’s fur based off of the descriptions I give of their personality or unique quirks. And there’s one secret lizard thrown in for the fun of it.

I’ll reply and if they get any right, but I won’t say how many. In a week’s time I’ll reboot with all of the correct answers. Let’s see how many correct guesses people get.

First up:

Apple Pie (Male)

Called Apple for short

A huge talker

Stubborn

Passive Aggressive

One of the smartest animals I’ve ever seen (We had to change all of the door handle to door knobs because he learned how to open the doors. He still knows how to open the door knobs but can’t because he doesn’t have thumbs.)

When he wants to sit on you, he will sit on you, you have no choice

Half-a-tail (The vet thinks the mother licked it off when cleaning him. No obvious signs of wounds. But I remember him having a full tail when he was born?)

Quote from mom - “I saw him leading a crusade into your room.”

Binx (Male)

A sweet himbo

Very vain (I can’t express to you how vain he is)

Likes to go for car rides

likes to eat bread, doesn’t want the meat with any sandwiches though. Just the bread.

Equal opportunist.

Gets sad if you don’t at least say hi when you walk past him.

Quote from mom - “He’s…. Special.”

Cheshire (Male)

Super sweet

The chilliest animal ever (will just let you pick him up and tote him around everywhere, but my mom says I get special privileges.)

A secret sadist (has tormented the Binx.)

Has the biggest eyes I have ever seen. (My brother says he looks like a crack addict.)

Causes mischief as a fun past time when bored

Chirps?

Quote from mom - “he can’t be the one tormenting Binx, look at his face.”

Mushu (Male - probably)

I have never gotten more attitude from an animal in my entire life. Which is saying something.

Lots of side-eye

Very chill

Doesn’t like loud noises

Lazy

Quote from mom - “I have more pictures of him than I do of my own kids.” (We haven’t even had him for a full year.)

Batsy (Female)

Runt of the litter, super tiny

Will launch herself at you without a second thought

Doesn’t like big cats

Super affectionate

Quote from mom - “She’s like a flying squirrel.”

Peaches (Male)

Super sweet

Quiet

Chill

Super affectionate

(Don’t know much about him yet, I kidnapped him from outside. He’s still recovering, super skinny, can count his ribs. But we’re working on it!)

Quote from mom - “No, I haven’t seen the stray cat recently.”

Now for this next section, this section is sadly for my babies that have already passed on, but I can’t do this and in good conscious leave them out

Crookshanks (Female)

Had asthma (Did not stop her from stealing other cats kittens [as far as she was concerned they were also her children, no matter what they looked like] and occasionally picking fights and somehow winning?)

Super sweet

Also the chilliest animal ever (It may be a competition between her and Cheshire)

Passive aggressive - (Whenever she was mad at me she would put her butt in my face because she knew I didn’t like it.)

Quote from mom - “Sarah, come get your cat! She’s still the other cats kittens again!”

Tiger (Male)

Blind

Super long for a cat

Skittish

Demanding when it comes to food (he stole my fries)

Vocal when it comes to asking for attention

Would always seek me out and follow me around even though he couldn’t really see me

Gypsy (Female) (My mom named her after our Romanian heritage. I wanted something Halloween based, but after she started called her that, she responded to it.)

Also a runt

Super quiet - loved her personal space

Follower me around everywhere

Didn’t like being held

(Didn’t live very long due to health issues)

Quote from mom - “Well, she lets you hold her longer than anyone else, even if it is just for three seconds.”

Anyways, this is just for fun. I’m curious to see as to what people will answer. By the way, here’s a hint, none of these cats are purebreds.

#cats #cat #cats of tumblr #kittens #guessing game #wild mass guessing #keep them guessing #sterotypes #cat stereotypes

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jalapenobee · 1 year

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Psst @luneariann i wrote a thing based off of your little comic here

The only way they could’ve ever known was by the little, almost invisible star he’d drawn on his calendar, right in the corner of the box labeled ‘April 29th’. Of course, Ane-san’s observational skills are through the fucking roof, and of course she had to tell everyone. Right before the mission. Seriously. What kind of sister is she?

Chuuya heaved a sigh and reached for his keys in his back pocket. Because the black lizard was incredibly skilled and smart but also so, so dumb, they ran around the port mafia base for nearly half an hour, alerting everyone present that it was Chuuya’s “glorious day of birth”. Tch.

On top of that, Akutagawa had disobeyed Mori’s orders and got himself seriously injured while fighting the weretiger. His left leg was torn open and then healed by the Armed Detective Agency’s doctor, but his pride had taken just as much of a hit. Chuuya didn't bleed any, but his arms and torso were covered in bruises.

That was probably the one good thing about joint missions—Yosano-san. At least she had come along this morning, courtesy of shitty Dazai’s call about “teaming up for a victory against a rather successful drug ring, for Chuu-chan’s birthday of course!” Ugh. Although…if they hadn't worked so well together, things probably wouldn't have gone so smoothly. Chuuya had to admit, they did kind of carry the team earlier, even if Dazai never shut up about double suicide or Chuuya's birthday.

What was even his deal? He was always clinging to Chuuya back when he was still his partner. Always calling him names and insulting his height. He wasn't even that short, okay? He's still growing. Just…really slowly. Anyway, Chuuya figured Dazai must hate him a whole lot to write a whole 27 books on how much he does.

Chuuya glared at the doorknob, which was not turning at all, and considered just picking the lock. A patch of red sat at the floor beneath it, and he instantly felt on edge. Blood?

No, a flower. Chuuya bent down to pick it up, the end of the stem pinched between his index finger and thumb. It looked fresh, and a small droplet of water clung to a flaming petal. A red camelia.

Don't blame him, okay? Ane-san taught him about flowers, it's not like he learned their names out of his own free will.

There was a piece of paper tied to the stem, and Chuuya flipped it over.

"Oh my god."

Chuuya groaned and ripped the note off, giving up and picking the lock to his apartment. Of course. Of course Dazai had to be the one to leave him something. How does he even remember where Chuuya lives? Did he follow him home? He was sure he hadn't been tailed, but still…

He tossed the flower on the kitchen counter by the door, along with his keys. He propped his elbows up on it and stared at the camelia. Past the..ugh…Dazai-ness of it all, he begrudgingly admitted that it was a somewhat sweet gesture. Chuuya shook his head. He was a port mafia executive with a reputation to keep. He could not be going soft for assholes like Dazai.

And yet, he made no effort to stop himself as he found an empty wine bottle and filled it with water, carefully (ugh) slipping the camelia in. He found himself exiting his apartment and picking up the note he'd discarded on the floor earlier. He rubbed it between his fingers as he went back inside and pinned it to his corkboard, already full of documents, blueprints, and photos taken without his consent of him and the others at the port mafia. He eyed the new addition, then chuckled to himself and walked off to find something to eat.

"Happy birthday, slug"

Heh. Dazai's really something else, isn't he?

#ok ik its not his birthday but #when i saw the post i just had to write smth for it so #look at that i managed to write smth elss #IM WORKING ON A VOLTRON THING I PROMISE #anyway #here you go #my fics #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd #bungou stray dogs #skk #soukoku #kinda?

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whispers-of-masser · 1 year

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Just Tonight (Part I)

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz ✧ Pining idiots, angst, spicy ending; 6k+ words ✧ Mature content (17+), mentions of blood/injury, alcohol consumption & trauma coping via intoxication pls don't do this folks Nebarra's got issues ♫ "Just Tonight" - The Pretty Reckless ✒ Yall get the long version cause saints I am too tired to edit this any more (also the dwelling mentioned in this fic is based off the one from the Nexus mod "Environs - Kolskeggr" by Siberpunk.)

Nebarra was used to keeping watch. It was a habit, a skill, something he'd picked up during his time as a soldier. The reason? Anyone who didn't, died. Simple as that.

But these days, he found himself barely having to pay any attention at all. Travelling with you, his only enemies were bandits and undead, maybe the occasional creature of the wild with a poor sense of self-preservation. And all of them were as loud as they could possibly be, announcing their presence long before he could even see them.

It was boring.

On the one hand, he was certainly grateful that he no longer had the... concern... of an inglorious death by a knife in the dark, or poison in his soup, or a scorpion in his boot. But on the other, having the enemy constantly giving themselves away with their own idiocy and carelessness... it was almost demeaning to fight them. A true waste of his skills.

What he needed was a challenge. Something just the slightest bit interesting, an enemy worthy of him –

"What are you muttering about, now?" a familiar voice asked, and Nebarra spared a glance in its direction – of course, it was the lizard.

"That this wine is horrible." He gave the bottle in hand a lazy swirl, then set it down on the bar counter, leaning as far back on the stool as he could without falling. "As rich as the Silver-Bloods are supposed to be, they clearly skimp on their inn's liquor. Even Riften was better than this!"

Xelzaz gave him a flat stare. "Nebarra, you haven't had a single sip in the entire time you've been sitting here."

Nebarra pulled away, dramatically looking the Argonian over. "Xelzaz, have you been... watching me?"

"What a horrifying thought." He pointed one clawed finger at the bottle. "No – I just happen to have eyes, and can still see the unbroken seal around the cork."

"Ah. That." Nebarra fumbled for an excuse. "I had some of their wine last night."

"I'm sure you did," Xelzaz deadpanned. "So, what is it this time? What's bothering you?"

Nebarra scowled from behind his helmet. "Who says anything is bothering me?"

"...You really have a problem with being in denial, you know that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about."

The lizard quirked a scaly brow. "Ironic, much?"

From behind his helmet, Nebarra gave him a pointless scowl. "Why are you bothering me? Where's the little scale-skin?"

"Khash," Xelzaz corrected him. "I would appreciate it if you started using her name – and so would she. At this moment, however, she is taking a nap in our room."

"How quaint. You didn't answer my question, though."

"Nor did you agree to use her name."

"Fine, fine, Khash. Now, why are you here again?"

Xelzaz's jaws parted, but before he could answer, your voice suddenly drifted over to the pair.

"What are you two arguing about this time?"

Nebarra turned to see you walking towards them, the inn doors swinging slowly shut behind you. In the moments before they closed, however, the brilliant light of dawn was at your back, wreathing you in in an aura of gold so brilliant, Auri-El himself would envy it.

...Since when was he so poetic?

"I can assure you," Xelzaz said as you approached, "that we are merely having a discussion."

"Uh-huh." Your gaze swept between the two, and as it landed on him, Nebarra could have sworn something flashed in it. Something... lingering...

Then it was gone, and he knew, just knew, he'd been seeing things.

"Right, well, I have something else for us all to discuss." You slid onto a barstool beside Nebarra, dropping your pack to the floor; it hit the stone with an impossibly loud crashing and banging, and even Xelzaz cringed at the sound.

Gods, just what did you have in there?

"Do try and mind the potions," Xelzaz cautioned, motioning to the pack. "My ingredients for those aren't limitless, you know."

"Ah, sorry Xel – I forget half the stuff I have in there, honestly." You reached out, grabbed a wine bottle – Nebarra's wine bottle – and popped the cork, taking a swig straight from the glass.

"Hey! That was mine!"

"Tough." Yet, despite your snark, you reached for one of the coin pouches hanging from your belt, fishing something out and tossing it at him. "Here's your money back, at least."

Nebarra caught it easily, something metallic hitting his gauntlet with a dull clang. When he looked down, though... "This is a ring." A simple silver band, fine etchings engraved on it – Redguard etchings. "Take it back. I don't want it."

"Hm?" You glanced aside at him, and for just a moment, your expression seemed to freeze at the sight of the ring. Quickly, you snatched it back up, stuffing it into a different pouch. "Ah. That – that's from Margaret. As thanks for saving her when we arrived last night. Must've... put it in with the coins by accident. Here–"

"Keep your gold," Nebarra sighed, turning away – and locked eyes with Xelzaz, a knowing look in the lizard's eye.

From the shadows of his helmet, Nebarra made a rude face at him.

"Suit yourself," you shrugged, and when Nebarra looked back at you, he could see a flush against your cheeks.

...Probably just the wine.

"So, my friend," Xelzaz said, "now that you have sated your thirst, what is it you wanted to discuss?"

"Ah." You took one more swig before setting the bottle down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I found some work for us." You jerked your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing back towards the inn door. "There's some miners just outside the city – a couple of them weren't originally stationed here, but someplace called... Kolseg, or something. Kolskyr? Can't remember. Anyway, some Forsworn ransacked the place and drove them here, and they're willing to pay good money to reclaim the mine – and a bonus if we clear out the nearby cave they came from."

"Ah," Xelzaz nodded. "I believe that would be Kolskeggr mine, and possibly Blind Cliff Cave – I recall seeing them on my map."

"Right – that's them. The miners made it out to be a large group of Forsworn that invaded, but..." The words trailed off, and you shrugged, doubt painted across your face. "I get the feeling it may not be. Not to us, at least. I asked around, and the mine isn't especially large – no deep tunnels or twisting passages. I doubt it could fit enough Forsworn to give us any real trouble. As for the cave, we can just scout it out to start off with and take things from there."

Nebarra heaved a sigh. "Another boring job... Well, it's better than sitting around here all day. I'm in."

You nodded at him, and again, he could swear your gaze seemed to linger for a moment.

...His armour probably needed polishing. That must've been why you kept staring, surely. It couldn't possibly be for anything other reason. No matter how much... he may have wanted it to be...

"Hm." Xelzaz shifted his weight from one clawed foot to another, seeming to consider something. Glanced between you and Nebarra, a look in his eyes the Altmer wasn't sure he liked. Then, "If it's that straightforward, I think I might as well stay behind. Three people in such a small mine, not to mention the Forsworn occupiers... things might be a bit cramped. Also, Khash is still sleeping, and while I'd rather not wake her, neither do I want to simply leave her alone while we're off doing the Jarl's work for him."

You snickered at that, reaching for another sip of wine. "No kidding. I'm... amazed at how ineffectual so many of these Jarls are. Also, wait – Khash is still sleeping?" At Xelzaz's nod, you winced, glancing over toward the rooms with brows furrowed in concern. "I guess she was more tired than I realised... I should have been paying better attention, damnit."

"She is quite hardy," Xelzaz assured you, moving his hands in a soothing motion, "and as healthy as ever. It is easy to forget sometimes that, though she is strong for her age, she is not yet an adult and does not possess our endurance. But with a little more rest, she will be fine – we'll simply have to keep a closer eye on her in the future."

"Wait, so, does all of that mean you lizards won't be coming with us?" Nebarra demanded. Normally, he'd be perfectly happy about that, but... there was something in Xelzaz's expression that set off alarm bells in his head. But why?

"That is correct. You two will be... on you own. Alone. Together."

...Oh. Oh, that sneaky, scheming lizard.

Nebarra risked a glance at you, and to his relief, you hadn't seemed to notice; you were too invested in finding the bottom of the bottle. That, or you were simply ignoring it. The thought of it being the latter... prickled, for some reason.

"Well then," you said, setting down the now-empty bottle, grabbing your pack off the floor, and walking determinedly towards the doors, "shall we go? I wanna get my hands on some gold."

Under his breath, Xelzaz muttered, just loud enough for Nebarra to hear, "Nebarra's gold."

It took all of the Altmer's restraint not to smack him upside the head right then and there.

~~~

You had been right – Kolskeggr mine was cramped, the tunnels narrow to the point that Nebarra was relegated to walking behind you. Not that he minded, particularly. It gave him the opportunity to... appreciate the view. Not that he'd ever admit it.

...Not even to himself.

And then there was the fighting. Brief and boring, despite the infamous Briar-Heart among the Forsworn's ranks. It was, admittedly, the last one standing, so obviously it had something going for it compared to the rest – but not enough.

Nebarra watched with perverse satisfaction as you ripped the briar heart itself from the enemy's open chest; they were dead before they even hit the floor.

He sniffed in disdain. Honestly, how stupid could one be, leaving their heart open and exposed, not even a single piece of armour to protect it?

"I think we're done here." Your voice resonated in the cavern, low and rich, and as your head turned towards Nebarra – he froze.

...Captivating.

It was all he could think as he stared at you, a smile on your face, savage and wild, teeth flashing in the dark. Blood stained your armour, coated your sword, dripped from your fist and the briar heart still clutched in it. As firelight and shadows danced across your form, it was as though your presence alone was enough to breathe life into them. And your eyes... oh, your eyes.

They blazed with ferocity, the fervour of battle not yet faded, boring into him as though you could see his very soul. Under the intensity of your stare, he felt exposed, stripped bare before you; he could barely breathe, barely think.

Was this what your enemies saw in their last moments, before you sliced open their throats? In their last breaths, did they feel what he did, right now?

...What did he feel?

He didn't have words for it. Refused to have words for it. To put his feelings into words was to acknowledge them, make things real.

No, it was better to leave things as they were – threads of gossamer, intangible, unknown. It was better that way for you both. Not that he cared about... making things easier for you... Not at all. But... maybe he wanted to –

"Nebarra?"

He flinched, your voice drawing him back to the present, grounding him once more to reality. "What?" he managed, his voice a rasp.

Your gaze flickered, and you took a small step towards him.

He forced himself not to pull away, not to give away his weakness – you. You, you, you.

Was this what Xelzaz had had in mind when he sent the two of you off alone together? Damn meddling lizard...

As you took another step, your arm began to raise, reaching out towards him – then stopped, and fell limp at your side.

Your lips parted, and something gripped Nebarra's chest – something he didn't know, didn't know, didn't know.

"I–"

A sudden creaking and groaning swallowed the rest of your words, the support beams of the mine agonizing over the weight of the mountain. Nebarra wasn't sure whether to curse, or be relieved.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"...Nothing. Nevermind." You glanced away, down at your sword, at the blood still dripping from it. "Ah... messy." Kneeling down, you yanked a rabbit pelt from one of the fallen Forsworn, wiping your blade with it. "Well," you said, clearing your throat, "I think we should be alright to head to that Forsworn cave, now. After this–" You motioned vaguely at the carnage the two of you had caused "–I don't think we'll have much trouble, except maybe in a difference in numbers."

"So just snipe them," Nebarra suggested with a shrug, pointing at your bow and trying not to give away... anything he'd just been thinking, feeling. "By the time the rest catch on, it'll be too late, and they'll be dead."

You flashed him another grin, his heart constricting at the sight – gods, what were you doing to him? – and laughed, "But where's the fun in that?"

"The fun is in the knowledge that you survived and the enemy did not, regardless of the method. Although... maybe not poison."

Again, you laughed, the sound bright and clear as a river. "I'll be sure to tell Xelzaz you said that."

"Well then, If I wake up dead tomorrow morning, I'll know just who to haunt."

Rising to your feet and sheathing your blade, a curious expression on your face, you asked, "Who, then? The snitch, or the killer?"

"You. Just... just you." The words escaped before Nebarra could stop them, and he suddenly found himself wishing he couldn't talk at all.

"Didn't get enough of me, yet?"

No.

That, at least, he managed to keep to himself. "...Can we get going?"

And so the two of you did, confident in the ease of the next few battles.

But neither you, nor Nebarra, had counted on hagravens.

And Nebarra most definitely hadn't counted on the Reachmen he'd just killed – the one he thought he'd killed, could have sworn he'd killed – suddenly getting up, barrelling past him, and sending a spear of ice straight towards you.

You never saw it coming, too intent on one of the hagravens.

And Nebarra... he wasn't fast enough.

He was never fast enough.

You dropped to one knee with a cry, shield clattering to the floor, and memories blurred with reality as Nebarra charged forward, desperate to stop the past from recurring.

He couldn't write another letter for the dead. Never even finished the first.

But you weren't Camia. You had the favour of the gods, and ancient dragon souls within your own, or however that nonsense worked. You... you wouldn't die so easily. You couldn't.

And you didn't.

Even as he ran towards you, he saw your mouth open, your throat constrict, your chest rise –

"Fus Ro Dah!" The words ripped through the air, louder and deeper than ever in the stone cavern, tinged with a draconic roar – and the faintest trace of panic, a remnant of the human within the Dragonborn. The Forsworn was sent flying, and with your free hand, you sent a firebolt searing towards them as well – overkill, maybe, but you clearly weren't taking any chances.

And as the furs on their body burned away, Nebarra could see it – the gaping hole in their chest, the briar heart within shriveling away in flames. Suddenly, his words from earlier rang through his ears, loud and mocking: "How stupid could one be, leaving their heart open and exposed, not even a single piece of armour to protect it?"

Damn you, Cor...

The body crashed against the wall, dropping like a rock to the floor, and the hagraven behind you staggered away in shock – Nebarra could see the fear painted on its face plain as day.

And when you suddenly pitched forward, face-down on the stone, that same fear seized him as well.

The next few moments were a blur; he was between you and the enemy hagraven, a ward raised with one hand, his sword flaming in the other. The second hagraven – their tenuous ally, and guide through the damned place, all for the sake of reclaiming it for herself – clawed and scratched the other between blasts of magic. And, at last, she fell with a screech, until she moved no more.

As Nebarra let the ward fall, he gripped his blade with two hands and brought it sailing down on her neck – he wasn't taking any chances. Not again. Not ever again.

As the hideous, black-feathered head rolled away, the remaining hagraven cackled in delight. "Yes, yes, Petra gone...! What good meat, good nibbles you are..." She cocked her head to where you lay, gasping on the floor, red staining the surrounding stone. "Your friend, shiny one... maybe leave your friend, yes, yes? I make... pretty, pretty eyeballs from–"

Nebarra's arm shot out and the monster's words ended in a croak, her head falling one way, her body, another.

And in the newfound silence, he turned towards you, dropping to his knees at your side. "Here," he said, fumbling with his satchel, pulling out a healing potion and shoving it to your lips. "Drink. Now."

Your eyes were glazed, swimming with pain, but somehow you still managed to smile at him, teeth painted red. "Wow, Nebs... 's almost... like you care."

"Shut up and drink," he growled, and though his hands didn't shake, something else in him felt unsteady, off-balance. The fight had been... too close. Too close to his memories, his past. Something in him had been scraped raw by it, salt on an old wound, sending cracks though his defences, a bitter sense of helplessness churning in his gut.

Even when you choked down the potion, some of the precious liquid spilling down your chin, a sense of urgency, anxiety, still gnawed at him. The potion would dull some of the pain, begin the clotting process, but you still needed more – real medical attention, the kind he couldn't give.

But first... first, he had to get you out of here. "Can you stand? Walk?"

In response, you braced your arms, pushed yourself off the floor – and promptly collapsed, your own legs betraying you; Nebarra lunged forward to catch you just before you hit the floor. "That's a no," he grumbled.

"Just – just give me a minute," you gasped, staring up at him from his arms. Your eyes weren't focusing; Nebarra wondered if you could even see him at all. "Stamina... stamina potion... in my bag. And some... other stuff. Should help."

With a grunt of acknowledgement, Nebarra reached for your pack, catching it by one of the straps and dragging in over; the whole bottom and side were soaked with crimson. He found the potions, though, blessedly intact.

Why hadn't he just searched through your bag in the first place? Why had he given you one of his own?

Not the issue, he thought. Very much not the issue. Your eyes were closing – you needed to keep them open, to stay awake, to drink.

"Hey. Hey," he snapped, giving your cheek as hard a pinch as he dared; your eyelids fluttered in response, but he couldn't see your irises – only white. Not good.

Unable – unwilling – to let you go, he grabbed a bottle with his free hand and fumbled to pop the cork with his thumb. It took him a few seconds – a few seconds too long, a few seconds neither of you could spare – but at last, he got it, and emptied it down your throat. You coughed and spluttered, but managed to down most of it – Nebarra wasn't even sure what kind of potion it was, the surrounding torch lights too dim to tell the colour of the bottle.

As your breath steadied, though, he guessed it had been a healing elixir – thank goodness it wasn't magicka. He groped for another bottle, hoping his potion-picking luck would last.

For the next few minutes, Nebarra did his best to coax potion after potion down your throat, until finally you gagged and would take no more. "I'm fine," you choked out, blearily shaking your head.

"You look like a skeever's nest," he snapped back. "But I filled you up on these damn things, so tell me you can at least walk now."

"I can walk."

"Good. Let's go." And as he helped you to your feet, he allowed himself a single, quiet sigh of relief. You were okay... for now.

~~~

The Mother's weeping. It was all Nebarra could think as he stumbled up the road, rain drumming on his armour, your limp body in his arms. Despite your insistence that you were fine, the trek back down the tower in pouring rain and navigating the cave had been too much for you. He had nearly had a heart attack when you collapsed mere steps away from the road, head hitting the stones with an audible crack.

There hadn't been any blood, at least. He just hoped that didn't mean the injury was internal, and that instead, it would be nothing more than a concussion and a bump on the head.

"You have a thick skull," Nebarra muttered to himself, glancing down at you. "You'll be alright."

As if to mock him, an ominous roll of thunder chose right then to shake the crying skies.

The gods were laughing at him, weren't they? There he was, a former Altmer soldier, a veteran of the Great War, trying to save the life of the gods' latest pet project: the Dragonborn.

Did they even care about you, the real you, the human behind the title? Was this all just some game to them, uprooting the life of any old mortal and making them a pawn, a scapegoat, a vessel for powers beyond belief? And if so, where did he fit into all of it?

...He didn't. No matter how many times he thought about it, how many different ways he tried to reason it out, there was no real place for him at your side. Although... he supposed he was saving your life, right now. Maybe. Hopefully.

Such an act was worth at least one line in the annals of history, right?

"During the Dragonborn's many early adventures, one in the Reach proved particularly dangerous, and they had to be rescued by one of their companions, a former Altmer soldier..." Something like that, perhaps. Or maybe even less. Not that he cared one way or another, really. Because, again, he had no place in history. Not in your story, not at your side, not on your mind... and not in your heart.

Nebarra stumbled, slipping on the wet stones and falling to one knee. He felt no pain, though, too shocked at his own thoughts.

Your heart? Your heart? Was that... truly what he wanted?

No. Impossible. He wasn't thinking straight. He was tired, emotions raw, mind jumbled. He... he didn't want you. He didn't.

He couldn't.

With a grunt, Nebarra forced himself to his feet once more, glancing at your face. Rivulets of water poured from it, streaking down your cheeks like tears, following the curve toward your nose, coursing down your lips... your... lips...

He nearly stumbled again; he wrenched his eyes away from you and glared at the road instead.

Damn this endless road.

He couldn't keep going like this. He was out of stamina potions, so were you, and Markarth was still so far away, the rain still pouring. But there was nowhere to stop, take shelter, and you needed proper medical attention.

And as a streak of lightning illuminated the world, revealing a building at the crest of the road, Nebarra just knew the gods were toying with him.

With the last of his strength, limbs aching, lungs burning, he brought you to the structure. Upon a closer look, it was familiar – the abandoned houses of the miners from Kolskeggr, the mine itself just behind. The bodies of the Forsworn you and he had killed earlier in the day still lay scattered about, the rain mingling with their blood and painting the road red.

Stomping past the dead, Nebarra went for the larger of the two structures and rammed the door with his shoulder; it burst open with a scream of its hinges. Arms shaking, he made his way towards the bed and set you down as carefully as he could; the last thing he needed was your wound opening up again.

As soon as you were free of his embrace, his legs gave way, and he crumpled at your bedside, armour clattering and banging around him. He groaned; by morning, the soreness would arrive with a vengeance. He had no idea how he'd make it to Markarth, then; his Restoration skills weren't that good.

He'd just have to manage, somehow. He always did.

But for now, he needed to rest. He'd done all he could for you, saving your damn life, carrying you this far, and finding a safe place to stay for a while. He could... rest now... just for a bit... just... a...

~~~

It was the cold that woke Nebarra – the cold, and the searing, aching, burning of his whole gods-damned body. He groaned, the sound cracking and painful in his dry throat. Forcing his eyes open, he stared at his surroundings, trying to take it all in, recall where he was, why he was on the floor, what was happening... and his eyes landed on you.

...Ah. Right.

Rising slowly, grimacing at the pain, he fumbled with his satchel, pulling out a scroll of Candlelight, its runes glowing faintly in the dark. Ripping the paper in two, an orb of cold blue light blazed to life overhead – he winced as the light burned his eyes, squinting through his helm. At last though, his sight adjusted, and he bent over to check on you.

You lay still, silent, almost... peaceful, bathed in the pale blue light. It was as though you were merely sleeping, not unconscious from injury and exhaustion.

Nebarra hesitated for a moment, then tugged off a gauntlet, resting his hand against your forehead.

Good – no fever. You were warm, yes – certainly warmer than he felt at the moment – but not to the point of concern.

A sigh of relief escaped him, even as something sour churned in his stomach.

Why did he care so much, anyway?

"This is just... so we're equal now," he mumbled to you, even as he brushed his thumb across your furrowed brow, smoothing it gently. "You saved my life, so now I'm saving yours. That's – that's all there is to it."

He definitely wasn't being influenced by something like personal feelings. Not in the slightest. Not for you, and not for what happened to Ca–

He cut the thought short. He really, really needed to stop drawing comparisons between the two of you.

But today, just like that day... it had been his fault. He hadn't been prepared, hadn't seen the enemy coming, and his negligence had nearly cost your life.

Just like Camia.

Only... she had died.

Nebarra couldn't go through that again. He couldn't bear to watch another fall because of his own shortcomings, and those moments when you collapsed – inside the tower, alongside the road – something had gripped him, a primal, visceral fear that he couldn't explain. Because even when Camia fell, crumpling before his eyes, this feeling hadn't been there – only the numbness of shock, giving way slowly to anger, anger at her killer, and anger at himself. But with you... something was different, so very different.

What were you doing to him?

...No, he already knew the answer to that. Gods, even Xelzaz knew – a truly horrifying thought. But Nebarra... he'd been turning away from the truth, just as a madman tries to hide from the desert sun.

And he wasn't sure how much longer he could do it.

A soft puff sounded overhead, the Candlelight spell's time run out, and the Altmer was plunged back into darkness. Quietly, he turned his back towards you and sank to the floor once more, legs stretching out before him, gauntlet resting on his lap. He wasn't as tired as he had been earlier, when he first brought you in from the rain, nor did his body ache to the same degree, but something else in him felt... raw, wounded.

He wished it would just go away. That he would see you as he first had, that day by the burning caravan: just another slek who'd happened to be at the right place at the right time and willing to spare him a healing potion. If he'd still felt that way, then maybe things wouldn't be so difficult for him now.

And yet... and yet...

Nebarra shook the thoughts away – they were giving him a headache, and if he was being honest, maybe his heart hurt a little, too. But... especially a headache. And his helmet wasn't helping.

He glanced at you, still unconscious, unmoving. Then, slowly, reached up – and removed his helm.

And promptly winced, his bangs snagging on the eyeslit. He really needed a haircut. Maybe he should just... borrow a dagger from you or Xelzaz, chop it off himself – his sword was too big, too unwieldy for such delicate work, and he might slice a finger instead of his hair.

With a faint huff, he ran his hand through the tangled locks, letting his head tilt back until nothing but the ceiling filled his view. It was... strange, feeling the air on his face again, but refreshing.

At least, as refreshing as it could be, covered as he was in dried sweat and blood and rainwater. Forget a haircut, he needed a bath.

Hadn't he seen a handpump outside? It was likely to be cold – everything in Skyrim was cold – but the water was probably drawn from the river nearby, and its had seemed clean enough. It would have to do, he supposed.

Glancing once more at you, ensuring you were still asleep, Nebarra rose quietly to his feet and made his way outside, careful not to let the door slam behind him.

The night air was brisk and cold, nipping at his exposed face and hand like a dozen tiny ice wraiths. He paid it no mind as he began shedding his armour, resting it against the porch railing piece by piece, until he was left in nothing but a shirt and trousers. After a moment's pause, he pulled them off as well, then made his way to the water pump.

As expected, the water was freezing. Just splashing his palm seemed to turn his veins to ice, goosebumps forming all across his skin. But it was either that, or stay coated in muck for another eight, twelve, maybe even twenty hours.

...Frigid water, it was.

By the time he finished, he felt more like an icicle than an Altmer, but at least he was clean. Retreating back to the porch, he dried himself off with his shirt, laid it out over the railing to dry, and finally tugged his trousers back on – his nether regions had not appreciated the cold.

Nebarra glanced through the window, towards where he knew you lay.

Were you cold, too? He'd thought your temperature was fine, but... he should have at least thrown a blanket over you, just in case. What if you got sick?

Before he knew it, he found himself by your bedside once more, shaking out a blanket and draping it carefully over you.

He tried to tell himself it meant nothing – that he was just doing a decent thing, being a decent person, trying to keep you healthy and safe.

But... he wasn't a decent person. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done something decent for anyone.

So why you?

I don't know, he lied, turning away. I don't know. I don't–

A soft clatter – his foot had knocked against something. Nebarra paused, thoughts of denial interrupted as he looked down. He found himself staring at a wine bottle, still full of the dark liquid, half-hidden under the bed.

...Oho.

Nebarra dropped into a crouch, intending to snag the bottle out from under the bedframe – but there, pushed further in, his eyes caught on an an even greater treasure: an entire crate-full of wine bottles.

The gods had a sense of humour.

Fishing the crate and stray bottle out, Nebarra carted them outside to the porch, popped the cork on one, and set to work.

No more thinking for him, tonight. No more confusing feeling for him, tonight. Just wine, and the gods that surely were watching from above.

He fingertips tingled by the third bottle; he was tipsy by the fourth. Drunk by the sixth. And on the eight –

"...Nebarra?"

Your voice, behind him. Soft, disbelieving, rasping. Filling him with a warmth so very different, distinct from the heat of the wine. His head snapped around – and in the moonlight, your eyes widened. Lips parted, teeth flashing. A breathy laugh escaped.

"Oh. I'm... dreaming."

"What makes you say that?" he mumbled, and you pointed at his face.

"Your helmet. It's gone."

He froze. Glanced across the porch. His helmet hung on the edge of the railing, shining, mocking.

As a dozen expletives ran through his mind, you said softly, "Funny. Even dreaming... I still can't see your face."

Nebarra frowned, wondering why, how – ah. Turned as he was, the moon was behind him, the clouds further shrouding its light. You... probably couldn't see much more than his silhouette.

Relief. Disappointment. He wasn't sure which he felt more of.

You motioned vaguely at the wine. "Mind if I join you?"

"...Why not."

Wait. No, that wasn't right. He was supposed to have said no – he should have said no –

Unaware of his inner turmoil, you sat quietly down before him, tugging the crate nearer to you. As you did, he noticed most of your armour was gone – only your shirt and trousers remained. Had you removed it inside? How had he not heard the sound of the metal and leather? How drunk was he?

"How many have you had?" you asked, as though you could read his mind, eyeing the near-empty crate.

"...Not enough."

You let out a soft snort, reaching for a bottle and popping the cork. Nebarra watched as you brought it up to your lips... your... lips...

He jolted. "Wait – you shouldn't. You're – you're hurt."

In the darkness, he could just make out the gleam of your eyes as you stared at him. Then, a laugh bubbled free, slipping past your lips like a song. "Oh, oh – that's too funny." You rubbed your face with a free hand, wiping tears from your eyes. "Now I know I'm dreaming."

"What's so funny?" Nebarra demanded, and just as suddenly as it had come, your laughter ceased.

"You're worrying. About me."

Oh. You... had him there.

"Anyway," you continued, "even if this wasn't a dream, I doubt a few drinks will do more harm than Xelzaz can heal. Although he might yell at me for being stupid." You pointed towards him with the bottle, teasing, "I'll just tell him it's your fault."

"Go ahead." It was the truth, anyway. At least one of you could say it.

You didn't answer, but he saw your teeth flash a smile in the darkness.

And so, the two of you sat together in silence for some time, slowly draining bottle after bottle. By the time they all were emptied, you were wasted – and so was he.

It was the only way he could explain how the two of you had moved so much closer together, how you reached out and began playing with his fingers, how he didn't pull away from your touch.

How, slowly, you looked up, locked eyes with him, and brought your hand up to his face, gently tracing its curves. How he stupidly, greedily, leaned into your touch.

"Nebarra."

He'd never thought an insult could be said so gently, so tenderly. He... wanted you to say his name like that. His real name. He could almost hear it on your tongue, your lips –

Your... slowly approaching lips.

His breath caught. Something screamed warnings in his mind. But he wanted, wanted–

He put his hand to your shoulder, pushed you gently away. "...Don't." His voice cracked. He couldn't meet your gaze, couldn't bear to see the hurt he knew he'd just caused.

Coward.

For a moment, you were silent. Then, "I... I'm sorry. I'm not... I thought..." The porch creaked as you leaned back, away. "I think I should... wake up now. Maybe if I go back to bed..." A soft laugh escaped; there was no humour in it. "Funny. Going to sleep, in order to wake..."

As you rose, turning away, walking back into the house, Nebarra tried to tell himself it was for the best. Best for you, for him. In fact, it probably would have been better if you'd never met at all, if you'd never asked him to follow you, if he'd never agreed to. Although... he'd never have seen your smile, then. Never heard your laugh. Never heard you call his name – the insult he'd chosen for himself. Never... seen your eyes, full of passion and ferocity, or compassion and tenderness...

"Wait." The word slipped out before he could stop it; he found himself getting to his feet, stumbling into the house after you, catching your wrist. "I... Stay."

Just for one night. Just one. He could... he could have that much, couldn't he?

In the gloom, your eyes met his, shadowed with emotions that he couldn't even begin to describe. "This isn't really a dream, is it?"

"No," he confessed.

Wordlessly you reached up, stroked his cheek. "...Alright. I'll stay."

Nebarra worked his jaw; he wanted to say more, knew he shouldn't say more. But as his eyes roved across your face, settling on your lips, his thoughts muddled.

Gods damnit.

And so, before he could change his mind, think himself out of it, he reached out and cradled your face in his hand, fingers lacing through your hair. He could hear the soft hitch of your breath, but you didn't pull away.

Maybe you should have.

Even as he drew you closer, tilting your head towards his, you didn't resist. And when he paused, lips hoovering a hairsbreadth from yours –

– you closed the distance first.

Your lips burned; he tasted wine as he brushed his tongue across them. He tried to tell himself that was the only reason he deepened the kiss, greedy, hungering.

And even if it wasn't... it was just one kiss. Alcohol in both your systems. Bodies and minds exhausted from the long day... It would be fine, something to forget by morning.

So... just for tonight.

He rocked a step back, pulling you with him until his back hit the wall. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands tangling in his unkempt hair – and as you gave a gentle tug, a rush of pleasure surged through him, and he was never so glad he hadn't cut it.

Mind hazy, his hands moving almost on their own, they slid down and beneath your shirt; he could feel you quiver at the touch. He rubbed slow, gentle circles on your skin, moving gradually upward, inward, until his hands cupped your chest.

You gasped into the kiss, though it quickly became a moan as he brushed his thumbs across.

He'd never thought a sound could be so beautiful. Never thought he'd be the reason you'd make it. Never thought he'd want to hear it again so, so desperately.

Breaking away from the kiss, lips slick, panting heavily, he spun the two of you around so that it was your back was up against the wall. When he met your gaze, checking for permission, your eyes were dark, needy.

Divines, you were stunning.

"Go on," you mumbled, resting your forehead against his, your breaths mingling with his. "Don't... don't stop."

That was all he needed to hear.

...Just tonight.

The words echoed in his mind as clothes were shed, a silent mantra, a reminder to himself.

Just tonight, he thought, as your gasps and moans had him pulling you to the bed, pushing you down on it.

Just... tonight, he lied, as your body welcomed his, sheets tangling, bed creaking.

Just tonight.

And as white light bloomed behind his eyes, your body quivering with pleasure beneath him, his name on your lips, Nebarra knew – it was too late.

He was doomed.

#nebarra #skyrim nebarra #nebarra skyrim #whisper writes #....i'm sorry

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vaultsixtynine · 9 months

Text

read my character study that's actually just set dressing for a lizard and an elf to have nat20 makeouts 🤙

parasympathetic –

Everything had been going so well. Zari had a nagging feeling of having missed something from her earlier conversations with Skalazar - the night before and then again this morning - but his transition from panic at her proposition to open desire had given her all the invitation she needed, and enough of a diversion to avoid thinking too hard about it.

Zari had shut the door - throwing them both into the grayscale of near-complete darkness, color drained away in their mutual darkvision - peeled his sleep shirt from him as she slid into his lap, and realized that Skalazar had no idea what he was doing. There was something charming - thrilling, even - about that, though, and she had decided not to think about it as she took his tea from him, placed her hand over one of his, and started to guide him through the basic motions.

She helped him pull off her over-robe, then unwind her sash, then release the ties holding her loose pants over her sharp hips and lifted herself just enough so he could wiggle them off her the rest of the way. That left her with her shirt and smallclothes, still, but she wasn’t quite ready to part with those yet.

Skalazar had been fairly quiet the whole time, fixing her with an intensity and rapt attention that belied the depth of his interest and only asking one or two questions about what was and wasn’t acceptable - ground rules. She was happy to supply them, but it was… a bit strange, to her, and different from the other kinds of amorous intention she’d seen on ample display in the brothels she’d drifted between in her years amongst the people of the Stormborn. Zari wasn’t sure yet what it meant, and wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but as she moved from his lap to the bed beside him and started to pull him sideways and over her for further education, she decided it didn’t matter right now.

Then, of course, her tides changed.

As she reclined back against the single pillow on his bed for support, her good arm outstretched, hand in his and using her movement to carry him along with her, some base pattern recognition living deep in her mind understood the true size of Skalazar as compared to herself - it understood. And it reacted. She felt it happen before he noticed - a tremor starting from the base of her skull, passing in waves down her spine, shaking out along her limbs in an initial shudder, followed by a softer but persistent tremble. Skalazar did see it, then, and froze in place with a flash of alarm, holding himself off of her with elbows locked and eyes wide. Damn it.

“It’s - “ she paused to pull her hand from his and place it against her other shoulder, willing the tremble to stop and failing. Her blood and organs quaked with involuntary physical response to a form - any form - bending over her that was baked so deep into her psyche that even her anticipation of things to come couldn’t hold it at bay. Under her arm, she felt her heart stutter.

“Should I stop?” Skalazar’s voice had gone thin with worry, and Zari shook her head, hair bunching up under her head and spilling out on bed behind her in frazzled waves as she did.

“No. I’d tell you if we needed to stop.” Yet again, her body acted outside of her own control - shaking like a leaf despite how bad that must look, despite any desire of her own. Please. Please. Obey her for once in your miserable existence -

“Are you…”

Hesitation hung around his words, such a far cry from the decisive intensity he’d had just a few minutes ago. Was he thinking better of it? Realizing he didn’t actually want her, or this? The burgeoning heat in her gut curdled a bit into something bitter, though when she’d first tried to leave him after propositioning she hadn’t taken it personally at all - she knew she was not a commonly desired format of woman, and was happy to leave it as yet another of her many misunderstandings.

That said - while she hadn’t necessarily enjoyed any of her past encounters with others more than what she could do for herself - through all of the conflicting messaging she’d read from Skalazar over the past few days, the one common trait seemed to be that he wanted something from her - she just couldn’t tell what. And if it wasn’t sex, then she was out of ideas.

He’d found his tongue in the time it took her to feel a sourness she wasn’t familiar with take root in her chest, and started again.

“Are you afraid of me?”

Oh, no.

She shook her head again, more vehemently this time. “It’s autonomic. It happens sometimes when I - when there’s - “ she paused, considering her phrasing against the tense draw of his brow ridges. “My sympathetic nerves go into overdrive when it feels like someone is… over me.”

The memory of salt and astringency and blood in her mouth, a tired ache overcoming her ability to move her own limbs - never enough to be unconscious, just enough to be pliant - Zari licked her lips against the intrusion. None of that was happening, now, and moreover she knew her own genuine fear enough to know she was not afraid, just that her body hadn’t gotten the message that she was the one very much in control of this situation.

Skalazar moved to sit up, but she found herself placing her hand against his chest to stop him, flattened palm skimming the smaller, softer scales over his pectorals. How much of the rest of him was soft like this? She supposed she’d find out.

“I’m alright. Just - wait here, a minute?” She removed her hand from him and patted her own chest, beckoning him closer. If he rested his weight on her, if she had a moment for her body to accept that it wasn’t in any danger, they could continue without issue - she hoped. They just might need to slow down a little bit.

“I don’t want to crush you.”

“Here - “ Zari’s arm moved down between their bodies to touch the outside of his thigh, continuing to position him and show him where to touch her until he was comfortable enough to do it on his own. “ - tuck your thigh between mine.” His neck feathers flared slightly, their vibrancy lost in the dark but the familiarity of his own unique form of blushing apparent. “It’ll keep you from putting all your weight on me, but I’m sturdier than that.”

Skalazar made a noise with a little too much doubt in it for her liking but ultimately acquiesced, his much thicker and still-clothed thigh slotting between her own. Zari wiggled down a few inches to press herself down onto it, watching in muted and alien satisfaction as he looked away from her and coughed quietly to avoid making an altogether different noise.

She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to her now as opposed to any other time, but something about Skalazar’s obvious interest in her - despite everything - made the heat between her legs flare pleasantly in a manner she couldn’t honestly say she’d felt before. It was something to be explored, of course, but - for once in her life - she had time. It was a several-day journey to Ödland, after all.

“Good. And if you come down here - “ Zari utilized the interesting reaction she’d observed earlier while she’d been settling into his lap and reached up to run her fingers along the underside of the bony crest that crowned the back of Skalazar’s skull. He shuddered under her touch for a moment before following her down and letting his chest rest against hers, a bulk of his weight settling over her. He seemed unsure what to do with his head, but eventually tucked his long skull in between the space between her head and her neck. He inhaled deeply a few times, and she wondered briefly if that was nerves or if he was specifically smelling her.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he was, she thought.

Silence fell for the moment, and through the comfortable blanket of darkness she realized how cold Skalazar was against her. Zari ran hot regardless, so most people did feel much cooler to the touch, but the large reptilian man on top of her was several degrees colder than your standard human or elf - not as frigid as a corpse, she noted, but easily surpassing the threshold that would kill other species. Their night swims the previous evening had given her a bit more perspective, but she realized in muted wonderment that she - with all her waste heat, which others interpreted as an indication of feverish illness - must feel wonderful just to be near, for him.

Despite her distraction, the alien nature of the situation seized her without warning as she tried to get herself to relax - how hard did she typically avoid being touched? How long had she avoided this kind of contact with only a few disappointing forays, finding no value in the gropings of idiots? She had no need for her magic, here, but what if she got overwhelmed and it lashed out without warning?

Anxiety spiked through her chest, and Skalazar’s mass on top of her seemed, for a moment, to trigger another set of feelings she knew were misplaced - but her limbs were not restrained, and weight was… nice, in a realm she didn’t fully have language for. The side of him that was pressed against her had even begun to fully absorb the heat she generated and seemed to be acting like a thermal battery, keeping her heat close to her body, where she normally was left cold as it immediately dissipated into the environment around her.

Despite that, her heartbeat worsened, thudding high and fast like a rabbit’s. She inhaled deeply, annoyed and trying not to show it. Calm down, she thought at her organs, you’ve copulated like this before. This negative reaction had happened before as well, of course, but this was the first time anyone had slowed or paid enough attention to her to realize it wasn’t the aroused trembling and fluttering heartbeat of an overly-engaged lover.

All the better, if she was honest - her indulging in passive curiosity with the fumbling grip of a stranger (sometimes a very inebriated one, as was often the case in brothels) was no stage for exposing her own vulnerabilities. This wasn’t, either, but Skalazar was already aware of some of her idiosyncrasies and seemed unaffected by them - in some cases, seemed to like them.

“You don’t seem to be calming down.” he whispered. Pressed against her as he was, his voice felt deeper and fuller as she felt the vibrations pass between their chests, despite how quietly they were talking to one another. It was more pleasant than it had any right to be. She wondered if he had realized just from his proximity that her organs were in the wrong places, that her heart thudded in the same place his did, a mirror image - knowledge he would have, with his experience. She wondered if he cared.

Zari sniffed. “We can continue regardless. We’re both aroused, and it’s not the first time I - “

Skalazar shifted his head slightly, and she felt something cool against her neck for a moment before the sensation of wetness followed behind it in a wide stripe parallel to her carotid artery. She gasped at the suddenness of it, and then found herself laughing, a short, sharp noise that seemed to surprise both of them.

“Did you just lick me?”

“I apologize. I have a specialized vomeronasal organ for specific scents - I’ve been curious and I haven’t been able to taste you.” He instantly seemed to regret what he was saying, adding an additional qualifier before she could respond. “I mean - we haven’t… kissed.”

Oh.

Zari had been avoiding that, actually. Other kisses she’d been subjected to had ranged from pointlessly chaste (relatively speaking) to what felt like a vast overcompensation for other lacking sexual attributes, a process that she neither craved nor enjoyed.

One human - an alchemist, if the reek of sulfur and reagent on him informed her of his profession accurately - had even grabbed her tongue afterwards, commenting on its unusual color and variegation as one would an interesting houseplant. She left him with a pile of ashes in place of his clothes, after that, and she’d decided that kissing was often a request for something that she had no interest in giving.

After slightly too long of a beat, Zari realized that the unbidden heat in her face was a blush, and wriggled underneath him to better position herself to look him in the eyes, a bit of a feat with the length of his skull. He’d lifted his head to do the same, it seemed, and she processed for the first time just how close he was. Obviously, he was half laying on top of her, so yes he was close, but this was the longest she’d spent in bodily contact with someone who wasn’t inevitably splattered with her own blood - possibly ever.

Skalazar shifted, then, and she moved back against the wall of his berth to allow him the space he needed to put himself to the side of her, both of them turning simultaneously to face each other. He was certainly too tall for this bed, though it was wide enough to accommodate his need to curl himself up to fit, and Zari carefully re-entangled her legs with his as they settled, bringing their bodies unbearably close again - which he didn’t seem to mind in the least.

For a moment, they said nothing, simply staring at one another as they both tried to resolve their own inner thoughts. There was an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite parse, the keratinized ridges that protected his eyes and vaguely suggested ‘eyebrows’ to her drawn together and mouth set in a thin, thoughtful line as he seemed to study her very seriously.

She wasn’t worried about waning interest - her thigh rubbing intermittently between his own in a reversal of their earlier positioning had confirmed a few other questions she had about lizardfolk physiology as well as what she’d be dealing with soon enough, and even the way he occasionally let his mouth part to facilitate the aforementioned scenting meant he had not, in any way, lost interest.

Still, there was something unsaid - possibly entirely unrelated to her, though she doubted it was entirely unrelated - hanging in the air between them. She almost asked, left the unspoken question linger in the back of her mouth for a moment before her own mind interrupted her with something altogether less pleasant - an unhinged desire to ask for something that she knew that she neither truly wanted nor should he actually give her crawled from a long-ignored corner of her brain.

Could you open me up, put your hands in my ribs, play around until there’s enough gore, until you’re satisfied? - and she recoiled from that line of thinking immediately, finding her face a mirror of Skalazar’s own mild frown. Zari wanted him to have nothing to do with any of that, instinctually (never know of it, even; never know she was ever so at someone’s mercy) - but she had no other context, felt the lack. Being naked and being bare were not the same things - she wanted him to put his hands on her and in her, but not - it could not originate from the same place.

Her newfound pleasure could not live in the same house as that, the chained up thing she kept away from guests and prying eyes alike, that still bled over into everything in her life regardless, no matter what she did. For her own sanity, she had to make sure they stayed firmly separated. A sliver of acute frustration at her inability to understand the true shape of her desire lodged in the back of her brain - something to examine later, or never.

Instead, perhaps simply letting him have what he wanted was a better idea, a panacea to the burned-in fear response that lived in her arousal’s basement, as well as whatever currently ailed him. The rest might matter enough to discuss someday, but she wanted so badly to push through it as if it had no sway over her, as if believing that would make it true. A little kissing wouldn’t hurt her; with the way things had been going, she might even like it.

She leaned forward to chastely press her lips against the end of Skalazar’s snout.

It was a ridiculous move on her part, but the smooth, lightly bumped texture of his less-fatty lip structures was novel enough and the warm puff of air that exhaled from his slitted nostrils right into her face in surprise was distracting enough that she found another small chuckle tumbling out before she could stop it.

“I’ve never kissed lizardfolk before; I’m open to improvements.”

“May I - “ Skalazar’s hands flexed somewhere out of sight - she could feel it more than anything else, see his tail flicking in muted agitation in her peripheral vision - and nodded in response, reaching down to put her hand back over his, bring it up to rest on her hip - a relatively safe, neutral area, at least to start.

His fingers curled into her immediately, testing his grip against her own realization that he’d kept his hands off of her that entire long, long moment, and seemed to return to her like a moth to flame. There was impatience there, alongside the fact that he had clearly worried he’d fucked something up. The blush from earlier, though it hadn’t truly gone away, flushed her face again, slowly spreading down her chest and shoulders underneath the fabric of her shirt - that’d have to go, soon. Then he’d really see it all.

Maybe that, too, was alright.

“You can touch me however you want. I told you I’d let you know if anything wasn’t comfortable, and vice versa.”

With that additional reassurance, something in his face seemed to resolve, and he reached forward to wrap a hand around the back of her head, bringing her face to his with the same raw desire he’d done such a bad job at disguising earlier. As he did, she moved his hand gripping her hip down under the admittedly small curve of her ass, giving him leverage to pull her entire body up to him.

She parted her lips and pressed forward to make it easier for him to meet her, then reached up to reposition his jaw at an angle - he resisted no touch she offered, and a pleased rush of blood ran through her face and started making its way south as he - at first cautiously, but then with rapidly-increasing confidence - licked across her lips and paused for a moment before deciding that the most efficient way to do this - devise a compatible method between their differing physiologies - was going to inherently involve a lot of tongue.

A lot of tongue, and a not-insignificant amount of teeth.

Somewhere in Zari’s mind, a barrier fell apart. She didn’t notice it, or didn’t understand its meaning. All of her attention was focused on the present - the feeling, the heat between them, the need. She felt, for the first time, like she wanted her fill of another living being, and ‘greedy’ didn’t even begin to cover the tidal wave building under her breastbone. She rolled her pelvis into him under his grasp, curling her legs tight around his larger ones, and ate every near-silent utterance he rewarded her with.

Some time later, catching her breath while he continued to run his tongue along her neck and jaw and his hands along her naked legs, Zari realized she was no longer trembling like a prey animal against her will, and the cadence of her heart and heaving chest had everything to do with the brave new world of lizardfolk-elven relations and absolutely nothing to do with fight or flight.

She pushed Skalazar’s shoulder lightly, rolling him so that she could instead sit on top of his cool, scaled belly and continue their endeavors from there. Once fully in place, his clawed hands digging pleasantly into what scant hip and thigh meat she had, she leaned back, leveraging against his grip, and tapped her chin with a finger as if deep in thought.

“Let me know if you’re about ready to be done,” she offered in as sweet a tone as she could muster, dangling the bait just to see if he’d take it. It was surprisingly easy to tease him like this, no awkwardness or tension of uncertain social rules obstructing the basic fact that it would take an act of possibly several Goddesses to separate them from one another at this point.

“We are nowhere close to finished,” he bit out, nearly as breathless as she was and with pupils blown so wide they nearly blacked out his iris. His voice was rougher, composure out the window, and his tone verging on the edge of command. Hook, line, sinker.

Zari leaned back over Skalazar, a very small smile tucked into the corners of her mouth, and he instantly craned his neck to meet her lips and tongue with his own while he hooked his fingers under the hem of her shirt and started to pull upwards - without her guidance.

#pop campaign #zari #skalazar tag #skalazari #we're in it now boys

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