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casuallyanidiot · 2 months ago

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Yantober Day 1

Love at First Sight [Yandere Forest God x Gn.Reader]

Using @ozzgin's Yantober prompt list!

Tipjar :)

Tw! Dead dove do not Eat! MDNI, NSFW Noncon, oral sex (recieving), Yandere, Implied kidnapping

You go into a newly acquired piece of land to survey it for your job when things start to become strange...

1.7k words

There was something wrong with these woods.

You were used to seeing some kind of anomaly in your field studies. Maybe the deer or rabbit population was too high, or you would find that an invasive species was beating out a more native one. It was never crazy though outside of the normal, exhausting sludge that was conservationist work. You were sent out by the local government to different wildlife reserves, or areas that were undeveloped to do some basic surveying and then come back and give them updates.

This forest wasn’t any different, initially. It was a newer addition to your city’s ownership, sold to them by a smaller, dying rural town. There were talks of what to do with the land, but first you had to be sent down to make sure they wouldn’t violate any regulations or kill off an endangered species. Not that they really cared. After all, your job was to get professionally ignored.

So you went in, camping gear and your truck in tow, and you began to explore.

Again, it was normal at first.

It was an average area. Normal flora and fauna. In fact, it was kinda impressive how well the area seemed to be doing. There was hardly any trash, no signs of destruction, no weird occurrences. It made you feel kinda happy. You went about your days just noting stuff down, humming happily all the while.

It was fine until the staring started. It began with a squirrel or two. They would just sit there, unmoving, unblinking, always just in the corner of your vision. Odd, sure, but maybe they were trying to see if they could get some of your food you always carried with you? Days passed and it escalated to a couple of birds added in, perched on branches and hidden by thick leaves. Then some bunnies, not even eating or twitching their little noses.

You thought you were going crazy, but nothing could prepare you for when the bigger animals started doing the same damn thing. The deer were one thing, already unsettling and strange, but having a bear watch you, still as a stagnate pond, was terrifying. You weren’t sure what to make of it. The only time the oddly behaving creatures would move were when either you’d get too close (in which they’d back off) or when you explored the forest (in which they’d follow after you in some sort of procession).

You noted it all down of course. You assumed that it might be an illness, or perhaps they were used to humans? But they didn’t look unwell, and from what you understood, this place was rather isolated, so there was no reason for them to approach you this often. You felt a sense of growing unease with each passing day, with each filled page in your field journal. This was getting too weird. The thing of note was obviously the staring, but you figured that it was definitely not in your area of expertise.

That’s why, after weeks of camping and surveying the woods, you decided to get the fuck out of there.

You packed up your campsite with little fanfare, hundreds of tiny gazes trained on your back. You glanced around as you loaded up a final few things into your truck, and you had only just realized then how many of them there were. The fauna crowded around the clearing you had settled in like a bated audience, and you shuddered. If you weren’t getting paid so much to stake it out here, then you probably would’ve hightailed it much faster.

“Okay… got my keys…” You mumbled and shuffled through your pockets quickly to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Should be good to go now.”

“Go where?”

You spun around, nearly jumping out of your skin in shock. Behind you stood a man, imposingly tall with a stony expression and dark skin. You pressed your hand to your now rapidly beating chest as he towered over you with a tilted head.

“Where are you going?” He repeated, and he prompted out a hand that was seemingly carved out of a deep bark to beckon your words out. You were shocked. His hair was seemingly made of vines connecting him to the earthen ground and shifting in unnatural ways.

“Uhhhh, back home?” Was all you could say in a slightly unsure voice. Seriously, you were at a loss for words. You had never seen such a person, and through your stuttering mind, you were able to guess that whatever was wrong with this place was probably his doing.

The man’s eyebrows (which looked as if they had been carved into his face) furrowed slightly. He placed a hand on his chin in contemplation, his dark hollow eyes and pure emerald pupils narrowing slightly.

“But,” he started, and it felt like his words rung over a hundred times in your head, shaking and lumbering through every node of your soft brain tissue. “But I thought you had come to live here,” He mumbled and reached forward to touch your arm. You flinched back on instinct, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Flower…” The man chided softly. His seeking fingers were more insistent this time, and you could not move back quickly enough before he was snatching you up and drawing you close. You cried out softly as you fell against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and sighed, shivering in contentment. You cringed at the feeling of shifting, wriggling grass and vines.

“Flower, surely you must know that you cannot go,” He sighed while he ran his hands over your scalp. You blinked. Flower… why was he calling you this? You pushed him back slightly, just to look him in the face.

“I’m sorry but, who are you?” You asked. It wasn’t just a name thing, but rather to say ‘who do you think you are?’. He hummed in response, and you can see him taking in every little thing about you. Suddenly, he laughed.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel, my flower? You ask my name but I know naught of yours,” He said with affection blooming between every roll of his tongue. Your vision spun, and suddenly your back was pressed against soft earth and damp grass. You gasped and cried out. Before you could even protest, your shirt was ripped open and your pants were pulled down.

“What silly things you wear,” He chuckled and placed kisses along your neck. The feeling was strange, slightly rigid. “Is this what mortals wear nowadays? So revealing,” He murmured and toyed with the shredded fabric. Your eyes were wide, and you tried to wriggle out from under him. He merely grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back, the vines from his hair enveloping you and wrapping around your limbs. You squeaked as your thighs were pulled apart by the coiling greenery, digging into the softer flesh.

“I must admit,” the man moved back, letting his breath ghost over your parted legs and crotch. “I was rather taken with you from the moment you arrived.”

The strange man held you down as he buried his rugged face and strangely glowing tongue in your entrance while stroking your privates with grooved, deft fingers. Your back arched, and you desperately tried to break free. Your frantic pleas for release were soon broken by the sounds of your breathy moans, and your voice rang like a bell in the clearing. Each lap of his rugged tongue sent shivers down your spine and had your toes curling.

“W-what? Stop that! Let me go!”

Your keys were discarded in the grass, and those fucking animals just kept staring. You could see your writhing, pinned form in the reflection of hundreds of deep, black unblinking pools. You felt sick to your stomach, and no amount of fluttering arousal could disguise that.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had company, and you come here looking like that. No, you’re going nowhere, flower.”

It felt like years were passing as he kissed, licked and held your hips in place with a tender firmness that would have you blushing if he was your lover. Or at least a lover you chose. Your begging was drowned out by your own frantic heartbeat and the humiliating squelch of your own pleasure. Never had you faced such cruel adoration, such gentle violence. Any place that had previously shown off exposed skin was kissed in a brief moment of reprieve from the onslaught. Your arms, your calves, your collar bones which had only just peaked out from under the neckline of your shirt.

Your truck, covered in mud, but still rather nice nonetheless, slowly began to be pulled into the ground by the flowers and flora rapidly growing on the vehicle. Your things! You tried to reach for them, but a hand of his reached up and entwined his fingers with yours.

Your screams of both pleasure and fear were carried by the wind, weaving through trees and filling the forest as naturally as the rustle of leaves. He continued to eat you out, and it was like you could feel his words in your head simply from the graze of his palm. It was overwhelming, and with each wave of heat, each tremble of your body, you sank further and further into his hold.

“Oh, look at you, my flower,” He pressed reverent kisses to your naval. “How you shall bloom in my care.”

More pressure, more bitter white flashes dancing across your vision as you keened and cried. Branches rustled around your face, and you wondered when they had even gotten there in the first place. They sprouted from his back and shielded you from the sun and sky.

“-made for me-”

“-love…”

“Flower…my flower…”

You caught bits and pieces of his voice, nestled in your ears like sticky pollen. It was too much, and all at once you had come undone, spilling over his face with an anguished, strangled noise.

It was hard to think after that. All you could feel, all you could know was that you were being dragged back into those deep, dark, very wrong woods with a loving smile slotted against your lips and flowers in your hair.

#my writing #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere x you #x reader #yandere god #yandere character #yantober #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #october prompts #day 1

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simp4konig · 7 months ago

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Okay okay I have to ask, what’s your fav head canons of Nikto then? I love hearing other people’s ideas and head canons of cod characters ^^ 💕

Ngl, i get inspired by other people's headcanons, and i make headcanons off THEIR headcanons 🥲👍… I'm unoriginal 😔💔

SOOOO, im “” Tagging”” (by that i mean putting // after the @ so the original creators dont get the notifcation for this LMAO=) blogs whose own works inspired me to create my own headcanons 🥰❤️

General Nikto Headcanons ❤️

Word Count: 1,584.

Tag List: ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @rustic-guitar-notes ♡ @best-soup ☆ @lotionlamp ♡ @trepaika ☆ @luci4theminorannoyance ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @nightlyvoids ♡ @skeletalgoats ♡ @aethelwyneleigh27 ☆ @arrozyfrijoles23 ♡ @dobaddo ☆ @the-second-sage ☆ @wil-xyz ☆ @revnatheshadow ☆ @feelya

Allusions to NSFW beneath the cut! Readers are warned.

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Blunt and straight to the point. Sees no rhyme nor reason in beating around the bush and sugarcoating his words. As a result, he can be viewed as insensitive and lacking in empathy.

Impatient, and has a short fuse, so blows up often. Only you are able to be the calm after his storm, subduing him with soft reassurances and whispered words.

To say that he is possessive would be an understatement — he is extremely territorial.

After his torture, he is wary of the few things that he posesses and can actually call his own (you). His biggest phobia is losing you, and his irrational fear is someone stealing you away. Any prick unlucky enough to not catch on to you two dating will be lucky enough to survive the beating that he is given.

On that note, he is simultaneously self-assured, and insecure.

His mask is a part of him, and personal. It will take him months for him to shed said part of him.

Constantly fears that you will leave him once he reveals his face to you, so puts it off for as long as he possibly can. The day that he takes off his mask, only for you to be so casual about it and passing it off as your day-to-day, is the day that became cemented in his hard, stony heart.

Has conflicting views towards marriage. On the one hand, is an official document declaring your relationship really so necessary? Isn't an expensive wedding superfluous, and too sensational? To him, all of that is redundant — he's yours, and you're his…

…On the other hand, a glistening ring on your finger invokes a primal desire to make you more his than you are already. It would be a declaration of a love which even death wouldn't do part. Maybe he should pay more attention to the rings on display at the jewellery stores you pass by when shopping occasionally together.

An introverted man, who finds solace in solitude; excluding you, his partner, he has no companions, and rarely associates with anyone else. The voices in his head are bothersome enough, so why does he need additional voices bothering him? With that said, you would think that your presence would be a bother — especially with your mindless chatter when Nikto doesn't grunt at the idle small talk at times, wholly unresponsive for the majority of the time — but the moment you give any indication of leaving, he seizes your wrist, his cold, icy eyes silently pleading for you to stay. And you do. You always do.

Bringing me onto my next point: he is a good listener. Your ramblings are all that to you; ramblings. To Nikto, however, it's his chance to unpick all the information about you, down to the littlest of details. You wrongly assume that your words fall on deaf ears, but he listens, and he memorises every opinion you have, every statement you make, and even the small anecdotes that you share, which becoming engraved in his brain. He goes over every sentence religiously, as if it was the Bible.

He has an exceptionally good memory, tending to remember things that you had forgotten. Mention something that you craved in passing? He would surprise you with it the next time you bring it up. Alluded to someone who insulted you and ruined your day? Well, it would be no surprise that that person would never ruin your day ever again.

He is like a cat in the sense that he is an unwanted stray. However, when you came to want him, it dawned on you that he was no cat, but a panther. A predator — savage, vicious.

He would kill for you, no questions asked (He has already done it, but you don't know about that. After all, you hadn't asked him that question yet, only in jest. Truth be told, he has made so many death threats that you have become desensitised to them, dismissing them as nothing more than that: threats).

He would have died for you (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE @//charliemwrites’s DEPICTIONNOF NIKTO IN THIS SCENE??????? HAD ME ON MY KNEES 🛐💍🧎🏼‍♀️ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VI NEED HIM SOVBAD); however, when you were hyperventilating as you sobbed and were close to reaching hysterics, that's when he realised that he should value his life more.

Incredibly stealthy. You've seen his execution animations… 🤒 Uses that stealth to sneak up on you whenever your guard is down to smack your ass. 🤭

Insomnia troubles him at night, the relief of sleep rarely coming to him; therefore, he tends to be nocturnal, buying groceries and going about the usual errands you would have otherwise done during the day. When you wake up, that empty fridge is magically stocked with your favourite food, your bear snoozing sometimes — most of the time he stares at you like a creep. 💀 /aff

When he does sleep, it tends to be during the day, and it's almost as if he is a bear entering hibernation

He sleeps like a plank — on his back, his arms by his sides, and his legs straight. You'll curl onto his side, your head on his chest, his legs between your core, and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

Snores. REALLY loud. 😬 ONLY when you are in his arms 🙄 — when he sleeps alone, he is eerily silent.

Subsequently finding him laying in bed, still and silent, you were sobbing, thinking that he died in his sleep. Finally, after minutes of shaking him awake, he opened one eye, and grumbled groggily: “Дорогая, shut up. I am not dead. Not when I have you to live for. Now, come.”

Once he is asleep, good luck getting him to wake up again; unless you somehow manage to disentangle yourself from his arms — only then, when his myshka is missing, does he begrudgingly get up from bed, stand outside the bathroom door, and whisk you back to bed, willfully ignoring your complaints.

Proud of being your protector. Always has his hand[s] on you in some way or other, protectively keeping you by his side.

Has 20/20 vision, and perfect hearing.

Don't mistake his opening of pickle jars and water bottles for you as chivalry — he is taking advantage of it to show off his muscles for you. Doesn't want you to ask if you want to cup a squeeze of his bicep — when he sees you staring, he will forcibly take your hand and put it on his arm, positively smirking beneath that mask of his.

Has a staring problem and is unashamed of it. From his point of view, there is no problem in staring at you all day and every day.

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Eye contact with him is intense. Whenever you avert your gaze, he instantly grabs your chin to angle it so it's facing him. Eye contact during sex is a given.

Despite not wanting to be a father, he has an insatiable breeding kink (does not care whether you are a female, a male, an infertile female, or other — he is delusional in that sense).

Although he isn't against children per se — mainly indifferent to them, if I'm honest — wouldn't want to pass on the generational trauma onto his brood. He would prefer his bloodline ending with him.

His dirty talk is so filthy that you get wet from just his voice and innuendo. (Thank you @//xoxunhinged for your headcanon 😫💦)

His animalistic instincts are so prominent that you've become convinced that he purrs whenever you stroke that sensitive spot on his scalp, and growls in between grunts as he thrusts into you.

Is rough, leaving dark hickeys and bruises, but he would never, ever hurt you. He's rougher than most, but has sufficient self-restraint to be realise ahead of time if he is making you uncomfortable.

You are his deity, and he worships you — if he was to ever hurt you, he would enter a state of loathing. Since you were a merciful God, he would take the liberty of punishing himself — retribution suited to his crime.

One time you two were play wrestling and he almost dislocated your hip on accident. He didn't touch you again for at least two weeks, until he finally considered himself worthy of your touch.

Is dominant in bed, for two major reasons: because he prefers exerting the control which was forced upon him, relishing in having you submit to him; manhandling you to showcase his strength

A third reason is because if you were to ever top him, he'd cum embarrassingly quickly.

Probably gets off to being stronger than you. Deliberately puts you in positions which render you powerless, only able to take what he gives you.

Whenever you enter his room, he always sits in the darkness. Insists: “I do not need lights. Lights are wasted when I can see in the dark.”

Which is true... but it is also a pretence to hide the concerningly detailed shrine taking up an entire wall, dedicated to you. You'll come to find all of your lost trivial belongings when you mistakenly flick on the light switch.

His loyalty and devotion is unparalleled to any other's. He is utterly and unashamedly down bad for you, and he is willing to do anything and everything to keep it that way.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to do much, because you, too, love him. A lot.

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A/N I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIMI NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEEDH IM I NEED—

Yeaah i thought comparing him to a panther would be cool 🐈‍⬛

“Guard dog” and just anything to do with a “dog” is an overused trope to me at this point 😐. Dont get me wrong!!!! , it doesnt mean that i dont LIKE the trope!!!! , but my own interpretation of Nikto is a little different, abd i think it suits him better,, Esp bc panthers technically 🤓☝️ do *not* exist, which links to how the definition of his name in Russian is “Nobody” :)

An unconventional animal for a very unconventionally attractive man😽,,

Anyways, it is time for a cigarette 🚬🤏😪. I will return in approximately 56 business days (trust me guys 😋✌️).

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years ago

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"If the pedestal is beautiful, then the statue must be even more beautiful." (Yandere!Zhongli/reader)

a/n: I do not regret this one bit. while i do feel bad abt yaoyao's suffering, at least i wrote something unhinged again + it aint a zhongli fic without me referencing proverbs lMAO--

unreliable synopsis: “(Y/n) must be a really important person if Rex Lapis made them a statue, right?”

Yaoyao found a realistic statue inside Mt. Hulao.

As she was exploring the area with Qiqi to find herbs, Yaoyao discovered a secret domain that was only accessible to children her size and smaller creatures like Yuegui. It was horribly muddy and extremely narrow. She wouldn't go there on purpose if she hadn't fallen inside after exhausting herself trying to climb a hill just for a stem of violetgrass.

She anticipated a dense mixture of dust and fog inside the cave, with layers of spiderweb adornments, but it was unexpectedly unscathed with the typical filth that embellishes a place over time. The table was piled high with multiple apparatuses that she was unable to identify, but its aesthetics screamed that it was an adeptus' prideful handiwork. Despite not being refused entry as most adeptal abode should do, she came to an unspoken conclusion that this must have been an adeptus' place, and her curiosity grew by the minute when she noticed a life-sized statue sitting in the middle of it all.

Yaoyao was unable to take her eyes off it as a halo of soft yet lurid orange light enveloped it. The statue wore a brown hanfu that was encrusted with citrine jewels fashioned into dragons and the Geo element's symbol. Their clothes looked ruffled on areas near the waist and thighs as though it was frequently hugged and touched around those parts. But what Yaoyao couldn’t forget the most was their black earring with a white tassel that hung on their right ear. She can't recall who she saw wearing that earring when she first saw it, but she had certainly seen it before.

Admittedly, the statue was nearly perfect if it weren’t for the fracture the child had caused upon bumping into it. Yaoyao would have mistaken it for a real person and apologized if it weren't for the diaphanous and stony texture it possessed.

Still, the farrago between real and fake stirred around the lost child’s head as if it was a major dilemma. She swears she had seen that earring somewhere and that chipping its pointer finger off the statue was an inexcusable and grave mistake. Was this statue designed after someone in history or a character from those fictional tales Master loved to talk about? Yaoyao couldn’t decide which is a likelier story, but she certainly didn’t want it to be the former.

In addition, what made it eerier was the anticipation of calamity on their face. It’s a look not at all visible. The majority would undoubtedly dismiss Yaoyao's perspective and assert that the monument exuded a stoic aura. But if such were the case, why does she see the look of a rabbit about to flee in their eyes? The statue’s face exhibited a great firmness that declared that it wasn't as it appeared on the outside.

The statue looked like it was fearing for Yaoyao’s life after what she had done.

To avoid amplifying her trepidation, the young girl focused her attention elsewhere. Near the statue laid a red baize-covered table full of tapestries and books Yaoyao could only reach by tip-toeing and underneath it was stacked with clothes, herbs, vulneraries, and letters without indications of the sender or addressee’s name. If so many offerings were being made, then someone really cared about whoever this statue stood for. A commendable devotion considering how the last letter was only dated about two days ago.

Whoever this statue was and whoever maintained this shrine must’ve mortified a penchant for humorous literature and scientific breakthroughs. It would've been a strange combination if it weren’t for how everything was aesthetically arranged. It was obvious that the domain was kept immaculate out of love and adoration. Under the watchful gaze of this statue, philosophy and science had united into one entity, and Yaoyao was positively enthralled.

However, it was a seasonable night and due to the touch of Nyctophobia children inevitably have, Yaoyao couldn’t tell the murky difference between excitement and fear as she quickly stumbled out of the cave.

When Yaoyao came back the following week after a busy lantern rite, the domain’s opening vanished. She brought Qiqi along and attempted to show her in quailing distress that asked for confirmation that should’ve been a hole in that wall— but Yaoyao was only met with the zombie’s catchphrase of: “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

There was no reinvasion of the cave's darkness. Not a single hump was left to indicate that something was concealed behind it.

And that led to Yaoyao hunting a certain “illuminated bird” down.

——————

“Aunty! Aunty!”

“Must you grate One's ears with your incessant shouting, child?”

The bird continued to coast on its two legs while Yaoyao halted in her tracks, gasping for air. Although Yaoyao found it excruciating to attempt to keep up with the adeptus' quick treks in the mountains, it was obvious to any outside viewers that the crane was being merciful with her slow and tiny steps.

“P-Please stop aunty! I-I just want to ask a few questions!”

Cloud Retainer sighed and did as commanded.

After letting her describe the location and what she had seen inside it, Cloud Retainer nodded in the affirmation that what Yaoyao experienced truly happened. Yaoyao felt triumphant when the adeptus did not dismiss her babbling as some silly delusion, but she was unable to completely express it when she noticed a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

“Of course it was real. One knows that location quite well, but One was never permitted to enter. That statue you spoke of would be none other than Rex Lapis’ depiction of (Y/n), the Wayward Pharmacist.”

(Y/n)?

Softly, the adeptus continued, “oh, (Y/n)… One remembers them rather fondly.”

Cloud Retainer did not raise her chin or adopt her customary condescending tone. Instead, her message matched her voice. Yaoyao was not the least bit confused by this sudden shift in demeanor.

They both know that name.

After all, (Y/n) (L/n) was Streetward Rambler’s first human disciple.

Yaoyao never inquires about (Y/n) with her master. All of Madame Ping's disciples were aware that they shouldn't broach the matter. Grief swarmed against Streetward Rambler so frequently that she bathed herself with distractions to wash away the acuteness of such regrets. She had done the most of what she could to relieve certain difficulties she had over the years, including mastering inventions and raising mortal children. While the majority of these were in her favor, the final diversion was less successful.

How can it not be painful when Streetward Rambler always sees (Y/n)’s old cheerful and ambivert nature in Xiangling and Yaoyao's eyes?

This was a rare chance to learn more about (Y/n) than just the faceless figure that her Master frequently likens her to. Madame Ping only ever briefly narrated (Y/n)’s deeds. Yaoyao relied heavily on individuals around her for her adepti history knowledge because she wasn't book-learned enough. Hence, inflicting a sense of confidence that she did not fully possess, the child continued to inquire.

“What were they like, Aunty?”

“You must understand how broad that question is.”

“Oh, r-right. Sorry!” Yaoyao sheepishly laughed. “I wanted to ask what was their personality like. Did they have friends? Or, well, what did they do?”

“(Y/n) was…” Cloud Retainer chuckled. Yaoyao couldn’t see a smile, but she heard it from her laughter. “—an obnoxious human.”

“E-Eh?!…” Yaoyao trembled. “S-Should I be worried that Master always compares me to (Y/n), aunty?”

“What nonsense— of course not. Take such compliment with high honor!” The bird towered her gaze above Yaoyao, clearly offended. Effectively, it seemed as if Yaoyao’s needless worries kindled afresh the snobbish Cloud Retainer everyone knew of. “There are only a few humans One regard as almost equals. Their obnoxiousness is what makes them wholly endearing and wholly human. If there was one true flaw One would nitpick out of all their traits, it would be their inherent obsession with longevity.”

Cloud Retainer shook her head. “Rex Lapis often debated with them over this, but (Y/n) was a stubborn mortal. Many occasions led to them being confined in a miniature domain that he keeps in his pockets. We did not agree with their dreams of becoming immortal. But other than that? (Y/n) was a humble loyalist.”

Yaoyao was inclined to believe that she was right because there were a few biological research sprinkled across the statue's domain. She had even read portions concerning Inazuman beliefs regarding stress and "ikegai" which might be related to a human's lifespan.

“Rex Lapis liked them despite arguing with him a lot?”

“Why, if you were there, you would see how adorable they were whenever they deluded themselves they could win a debate against an Archon,” the bird quipped humorously.

"Immortality had always been (Y/n)'s goal. One often told them to not be afraid of death or die worthlessly, but they never listened. They even tried to curse themselves to accomplish this, and astonishingly, they almost succeeded if it weren't for the Conquerer of Demons' unsleeping vigilance while acting on Rex Lapis' orders. The Archon always has an affectionate expression on his face when they pout over his interferences. One would have jokingly said that her friend is in love with a mortal if One didn't know any better."

“Wow…” Yaoyao covered her mouth with her tiny hands in awe. Neither of them seemed to realize that something was incredibly off about that ‘fun tidbit’. “(Y/n) must be smart if they constantly got Rex Lapis’ protection!”

“Indeed they were— were you doubting One’s abilities?! Had One not said they were close to One’s competency?”

“Ah, right.”

“They were an obnoxiously hard-working individual. Grinding their bones in hopes to grant impediments as a rival to Guizhong and I’s intellectual plays. (Y/n) lived a short life filled with effort and virtue, it is to no one’s surprise that Rex Lapis had conceived a great liking towards them,” she mused.

“Rex Lapis nearly caved and made them immortal at one point. However, he changed his mind after finding out (Y/n) had a human lover…” Cloud Retainer closed her eyes. “Perhaps that was an act of mercy. An Archon’s goodwill so that they wouldn’t have to suffer the fate of grieving for their beloved for all eternity.”

If only she knew the truth.

“They must be really important if they got a statue,” Yaoyao tilted her head, emanating a soft chime from her bell accessory. “Master only said that they were very kind and that they had a lover with green hair, and—”

“And?”

The adeptus was interested to learn what her old acquaintance talked about (Y/n). Did the grandmother compliment them on how cute they were? How, in essence, they were one of her greatest sources of delight and pride? Before Streetward Rambler took up the name “Madame Ping”, these were the typical musings she had over tea with both her and Guizhong. In a sense, Cloud Retainer merely pressed the question because she missed these times—

“And that they had a nice big family around Qingce Village! Two sons, one daughter!”

Cloud Retainer made a choking sound.

Impossible.

“Family?! Goodness gracious, it seemed Streetward Rambler has turned into quite a fabulist over time,” Cloud Retainer shook her head. “No, (Y/n) (L/n) unfortunately did not produce such a legacy.”

Legacy?

“I’m so sorry, I don’t get it, aunty. What do you mean?”

“They did not leave a child for me— for us to look after.”

Cloud Retainer cringed at her uncontrollably bitter tone. There was a point in her life where she cursed (Y/n) for this. Death was not something they can control— yes— but she used to be an ignorant fool who did not respect (Y/n)’s decision to never have children. Perhaps, in a way, this was because she wanted to see a new generation of like-minded people like them, but she will never forget the uneasy looks they gave her whenever she launched into one of her rants.

They may have been Streetward’s disciple but to Cloud? She was like their true mother. Much like most mothers of the old generation, she selfishly wished they left behind even a non-blood related grandchild for her to rear after (Y/n)’s name.

“They… have gone missing. They did not die with a family of their own— we did not even find their corpse. One does not know why Streetward Rambler would tell you that.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know... It must’ve been a sad loss for the adepti and everyone else.”

Cloud Retainer only looked away.

“There was no pecuniary loss for us when it had happened, sure,” she said. “But yes, it was indeed a sad time for the adepti to lose both Guizhong and (Y/n) at the same time. There could’ve been a new province of knowledge and ventures— these virtues of arts were never grasped because death had stolen their privilege of penning down their strange yet wonderful conjectures.”

“Time and time again, they had failed to accentuate any alterations in their mortal structure,” she continued. “While others sought out their writings regarding their enlightened art pieces, few looked for their progress on human mortality. One only remembers a singular human who came to find (Y/n)’s transcendental medicines. One believes his name was Baizhu. If One’s explanations were inadequate, perhaps you must seek him instead.”

Yaoyao perked up. Well, that’s lucky. She was just about to head to Bubu Pharmacy to look for the pharmacist later.

“Ah, there you are, Yaoyao!!!”

Out of the blue, Ganyu and a face unfamiliar to the adeptus disrupted the scene. This human had indigo braids wrapped up in a tight bow for hair and amber eyes. Had it not been for Ganyu and a cute little bear clumsily climbing the stairs behind her, Cloud would’ve left immediately.

“Marchosius, it has been a long time...”

“♪~?”

“Woah… Is that Cloud Retainer, Ganyu?” The unfamiliar human gawked.

“That is that. One will no longer entertain questions. One shall take their leave at once.” The adeptus did not waste another moment upon noticing Xiangling’s curious gaze. However, Cloud did give Marchosius a look of respect before taking flight.

The little girl frowned.

“Yaoyao?”

“Oh, sorry,” Yaoyao smiled forcefully. “I just remembered I didn’t get to ask her the most important question.”

“Hmm? What question were you going to get an adeptus’ advice for?” Ganyu placed a hand on her chest. “Perhaps I could help? I may not know all the answers, but I do have some connections.”

“I’m just curious…”

Yuguei jumped off the basket as Yaoyao hastily removed it from behind her. The smaller adepti treasure leaped over her head and peered attentively over as if to assist her in locating the object she was seeking. When she did grasp it, she did not do so carefully. Instead, she held it out like a young child showing off a crayon during show & tell.

Ganyu and Xiangling’s blood ran cold as the child presented them with a dismembered finger.

“Ganyu, do statues made by the adepti bleed?”

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fohatic · 3 months ago

Text

@ao3commentoftheday -- (a lot more context/info here than the previous post i tagged)

New AO3 Tag Wrangling Policy and the Transformers Fandom

(This is a long one, folks, but I think it's important.)

A new tag-wrangling policy on AO3 has the potential to create some massive confusion and chaos in the Transformers fanfic community, with regards to fandom tags. There is a Reddit post about it here with a focus on anime fandoms, but I want to give some concrete examples for the Transformers fandom on why we DO NOT WANT this, and why I think it's a horrible idea.

The Problem

Basically, AO3 is looking to get rid of the "All Media Types" fandom tag across the board, either by dismantling them or just not maintaining them. The Transformers - All Media Types tag has been an all-purpose tag that you could select when your story doesn't fall into any one specific continuity. Additionally, all most (see below) TF continuities on AO3 are considered a subtag of the Transformers - All Media Types tag. For example, if you look at the link above for all works in the All Media Types tag, you will see fics that are also tagged ONLY with Transformers: Animated, because it falls under the All Media Types tag.

One exception: With the upcoming Transformers: One movie coming out imminently, there will likely be a big influx of stories tagged with Transformers: One. In fact, there are several already. However, it hasn't been linked to the larger Transformers - All Media Types tag yet. I wasn't worrying about it though, because I know these things can take time.

With information about this new tagging policy, however, I'm now wondering whether it'll EVER get linked to the All Media Types tag. If that happens, and when more continuities are developed in the coming years (since you know Hasbro loves creating new universes) this has the potential to cause massive confusion when looking for stories to read.

Searching for Stories with the New Tagging System

So let's say the All Media Types fandom tag isn't accurate anymore, because it no longer includes ALL of the continuities (such as TF:One). You will need to include ALL the Transformers continuities when browsing for TF fics.

How many tags is that? Well, here are all of the tags currently listed under the Transformers - All Media Types tag:

Note that this doesn't include Transformers: One since it hasn't been categorized yet.

You will potentially have to have 40 or more different fandom tags in your search, just in case the author tagged their story with something you weren't expecting.

This massively decreases the findability of a story.

Tagging with the New System

The email response from the Tag Wrangling group (see the linked Reddit post above) seems to be a bit flip in the response to the user's concern. "...encourages creators to tag with the media they intend."

While I appreciate what they are attempting to do, this policy change feels like a solution in search of a problem, especially in larger fandoms with multiple continuities, versions, and media types that are all cross-pollinated in both canon and fanon. While I'm focusing on Transformers fandom, imagine a creator in the DC comic universe writing a story that incorporates bits and pieces from a dozen different reboots.

For example, let's say that I am writing a fic about Ratchet. I am using the setting of the original G1 episodes, but I also am using the characterization of him as a bit of an old man grump. That characterization originated in the Animated continuity, but I want to incorporate bits of pieces of his other characterizations as well (old friend of Optimus from TFP, Ratchet ran a faction-free clinic like he did in the War for Cybertron series, he's got a Decepticon boyfriend like in IDW1 - or maybe even Cyberverse, etc.)

With this new tagging structure, I might potentially have to tag the story with ALL of those continuities. So instead of just slapping down the "All Media Types" tag (and maybe one other fandom tag that matches the characters as best I can), I'll have to analyze my story and try to figure out how best to tag for the characters I used.

And what if you're doing a completely AU version of the story? For example, a humanformers story, or merformers? Using the All Media Types tag along with a Alternate Universe - Human or Alternate Universe - Mermaid tag worked perfectly, since you weren't writing the story to fit into one specific continuity. But now, that might not be an option.

What To Do??

The first thing I would suggest is to contact AO3 (using the Feedback and Support page) and let them know (nicely) that you think this is a horrible idea. Give them some examples on how you use the All Media Types tag to find stories to read, or to help you tag a story. People outside of the Transformers fandom don't always appreciate how absolutely tangled the continuities can be with each other, and providing examples might help them see why this would be a really messy change.

Readers: Be aware that when you are looking in the All Media Types tag, it will no longer show newer continuities. And if AO3 starts dismantling that tag like they suggested they are doing, be aware that some stories won't show up in that tag like they used to. You can also create and then bookmark a custom search page that includes all 40+ continuities. REALLY annoying, but it's a workaround.

Writers: Until they start dismantling the All Media Types tag, ALWAYS ALWAYS tag your stories using Transformers - All Media Types... Especially for newer continuities. This will be especially important if you are writing a Transformers: One story. Right now, anyone who is only browsing the All Media Types tag will not see a story tagged only with Transformers: One. Make sure you're aware of how tags work and how they can affect the visibility and findability of your story.

Epilogue

Ugh. That's a lot of words for a long-weekend Saturday. And maybe I'm overreacting a tiny bit. But my work involves information architecture, and this change just absolutely baffles me. It's almost as though they want to make it harder to find stories. Considering that AO3 won a Hugo partially because of its fantastic tagging system, this change seems like AO3 is doing its best to shoot itself in the foot.

When you have a square hole, a round hole, and a rectangular hole… Yeah, you DO want each peg to go in the "right" hole. But if all of the pegs fit in the square hole, who cares? You got the job done.

I love you @ao3org, but please reconsider this change... Especially for IPs that are as old and are as varied as Transformers.

#fanfiction #fandom #i've often considered tagging my stony AUs under the marvel “all media types” umbrella #since sometimes they don't remotely resemble anything in the MCU or any other more specific fandom #(except maybe for subtle characterization choices and/or eye color descriptions)#but could feasibly fall under some of the comics 'verses as easily as the MCU #anyhow i just end up putting in “MCU” in addition to the “all media types” designation to cover all bases #but i could definitely see how some authors would prefer to keep it intentionally vague/open-ended....

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polakina · 1 year ago

Text

intensified senses

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

rating: explicit

outline: being highly recommended by his lieutenants, miguel decided to recruit you into the spider society. wary of you at first, he kept a distance. but you were persistent on getting through the cracks of his stony exterior

warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, miguel being a sarcastic bitch, pining, flirting, masturbation (male), blindfolding, sensory deprivation, blowjobs, unprotected sex, riding

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist

He watched you from afar at first. Crouched from a high tower, dressed in inconspicuous clothing and hiding in plain sight. You came highly recommended. Jess and Ben spoke rather fondly of you, of your loyalty, bravery. You took care of your neighbourhood, of your city. And you were damn fucking good at it.

Miguel didn’t see it. He looked at you with a rather cold stare as you perched from a rooftop, your headpiece laid beside you as you looked out towards the streets. You crouched there with a bagel in one hand, iced coffee in the other. Your suit was all yellow, like the sun. The spider on your chest a deep orange. The sunset made it shine brightly. A pretty amber in the light. Miguel just sort of scowled at you.

“What do you think, O’Hara?” Jess came through on his earpiece, crackly, but clear enough to understand.

“She’s…you think that she could join the society?” He asked incredulously. “She’s a kid!”

“She’s actually similar in age to you, just with a better skin care routine,” he heard her chuckle lightly.

“That’s funny,” he responded coolly. Sarcastically. As he usually did. But he trusted Ben and Jess’ judgement, and to be fair, he was trying to expand the spider society further. So perhaps you would be an ample addition, in his eyes.

You knew someone had been watching you for a while. You felt eyes on the back of your head. For what reason, you weren’t sure, but they didn’t pose a threatening feel. So you let them be.

It wasn’t until you felt their presence behind you that you felt that something needed to be done about it. You heard his footsteps quite a fair distance behind you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight. He was big. Very big. Putting your headpiece back on, you stood up straight and kept looking ahead of you. It was only when you felt him get a little closer that you sent your webs in his direction. You heard him grunt as he was webbed to the rooftop door, stuck in place.

That’s when you turned around to face him. Glad that your face was covered, he wasn’t able to see the look of surprise on your face. The way your eyebrows raised or your mouth fell slightly open. Goddamn. He wasn’t exactly what you had expected to be following you all these weeks.

Dark curly hair. Reddish eyes. A waistline that would put any model to shame. The man was built like a brick wall, but with a face carved from a God or something. You blinked back into focus, not letting him distract you right now.

“Who are you?” You asked, trying to conjure a sort of authoritative voice to not seem so young. Or small. Which you were in comparison right now.

“That isn’t important right now,” he said, struggling against your webbing. “I need you to come with me. I’m recruiting you. That’s the reason I’ve come to find you. Not so we can chitchat and braid eachother’s hair.”

You laughed a little. Miguel ignored how his heart leapt a little at how pretty it sounded. “Wow you’re really good with your people skills. Has anyone ever told you that?” You walked a little closer to him, still hesitant. “Unless you tell me exactly who you are, and exactly what you’re doing in my city, I’m not going anywhere. And by the time that webbing’s structure decomposes enough for you to break free, you won’t find me again.”

He just sighed at you, rolling his eyes out of impatience. “Okay, I’m over this.” talons protruded from his hands in replacement for his fingers, and he sliced through your webbing. Shit, you put so much effort into that webbing too. He sauntered towards you, hips swaying as he looked down at you with a deeply disinterested glare. You backed up until your legs hit the edge of the rooftop, pinning you between him and the ground below. You could have just jumped. Leaned back until you fell from the roof and swung through the streets, far away from him. But you couldn’t. It was like you were frozen in place. “You’re coming with me. One way or another.”

You stepped up onto the ledge, almost as tall as he was now. “As much as I’d love to come back to what I assume is a cute little lair, I’m going to have to pass.” You fell backwards off the ledge and watched his eyes widen as he went to reach for you, but he wasn’t quick enough. Clearly his spidey senses weren’t kicking in today.

You fell, looking towards the ground as it got closer and closer to you.

But you never did reach it.

It was a blur, a flash of coloured lights blinded you for a few moments. There was a pressure on the back of your neck, as though someone had grabbed you harshly, penetrating skin from the pain it inflicted.

Instead your body collided with a solid stone floor. Hard. you felt somethin crunch as your body hit the ground, sending shooting pains through your entire arm. Blinking your eyes a few times, you adjusted to the bright fluorescent lighting around you. Screens were put up on every wall, a large computer sat atop a much larger desk was raised above you.

“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing yourself off the ground. Turning slowly in a circle, you tried to gauge where you were, until you came face to face with him again. “You! Where the fuck have you brought me?” You started swinging at him. You don’t really know why. It was a defense mechanism, you guessed? But you swung at him nonetheless. Pointless as it was, it made you feel better.

He just huffed and shook his head, batting away your hands and feet as they came at him, as though they weren’t even hurting him. It wasn’t until he grabbed your wrist which you injured, feeling the dislocation in the bone. You hissed in pain, trying to pull away, to no avail. He said nothing, just snapping it back into place and your cry echoed throughout the room.

“Asshole!” You cried out, turning away.

“You’re welcome.”

“I wouldn’t have even been hurt if you hadn’t have kidnapped me!”

“I told you I was recruiting you for something.” His voice was so plain, so boring, so calm. Not a smidge of emotion or humanity in it.

“You could have asked nicely! Maybe explained the situation before…teleporting me to your shitty office,” you breathed heavily.

“You didn’t give me a chance. This was the only way.” He turned towards the desk, making his way up to it. You followed, rolling your wrist to alleviate the pain.

“So why am I here? And who exactly are you?” You walked to the desk, taking a seat in the chair and spinning in it until his face became blurry. You came to a sudden stop when his hands fell hard onto the arm rests, his face inexplicably close to yours. You held your breath as he scowled down at you.

“Get. Off. My. Chair.”

“Who. Are. You.”

He rolled his eyes. But it wasn’t he who answered your question. It was a woman. “Miguel, you’re back! And you brought company. So this is the Lemon Spider? I expected something…different.”

“Lemon Spider? That is not my name,” you chuckled, looking over to see a blonde woman on the screens.

“Well, LYLA is my name. And Lemon Spider suits you, so Lemon Spider is your name.” She smiled, her grin was big and bright.

“And you’re Miguel? I’m glad someone finally told me.”

Eventually Miguel explained why he’d brought you to him. The Spider Society. Hundreds of spiders from hundreds of different alternate realities protecting the canon events and ensuring nothing disrupted them. His lieutenants had recommended you after close observation of how you handled situations within your own universe. You were small but quick, good at getting in and out of places that others couldn’t fit. You had heart. You never acted out of anger, or revenge. Only when someone needed you, needed your help.

It was a noble cause. One that, of course, you would have signed up for yourself if Miguel hadn’t first brought you here against your will. The man really needed to work on his people skills.

Months later, you had worked your way up the ranks. A valued member of the society. Even Miguel was impressed. Not that he ever showed it. You’d even met some other spiders. Pav and Hobie being the ones you were closest with whenever you got a chance to see them.

But Miguel was always the one you wanted to see the most, but you tried to keep that your own little secret.

“So…how ya been?” You asked, spinning on the desk chair once again as he leaned over the desk beside you. He rolled his eyes once again, but his mean demeanour had slightly softened with you around over time. Even LYLA had noticed it, once asking him if he did in fact begin to soften towards you. She earned a low growl in response and never spoke of it again.

“Busy.”

“As always,” you huffed, looking at the same thing he was, a screen with a lot of maps and circles and colours…you understood none of it.

“Shouldn’t you be working? Doing spidey stuff?” He asked, looking over at you, his eyes softening at the way you looked up at him. He brushed it off quickly though.

“My canon events are safe,” you assured. “Besides, I’ll be notified if anything canon related or otherwise is affected or in jeopardy. So until that happens, I have a clear schedule.”

He just looked away, scanning activity on the screen. “Well, that’s great,” he mumbled under his breath, sarcasm lacing his tone.

“Come on, I’m great company,” you smiled up at him.

“Uh huh.”

You sighed, leaning back in the chair, putting your feet up on the desk. “Well, you’d prefer me over Hobie, at least.”

He grunted, pushing himself off the desk and turning towards you. Grabbing both your ankles, he yanked them off the desk, pulling you closer to him, your legs either side of his body as the wheely chair rolled swiftly towards him. “Look, as much as I love the cute little attitude you seem to have,” he leaned closer towards you, his cologne filling your senses. “I have work to do. And you’re a distraction. So either be quiet, or go elsewhere, okay?”

Words escaped you. And Miguel realised exactly what he’d just said. He also realised he’d essentially caged his body between your thighs. You gazed up at him, he noted a little surprise in your eyes, as well as something else. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. Letting go of your ankles, he stepped away. You stood from your chair.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a distraction now, would I, O’Hara?” You asked, a little smirk playing at your lips. You patted his chest and walked away.

He hated that he watched you leave, completely ensnared by you as you left the room.

You stayed at the base that night, knowing that Miguel had his room set up there, a few doors down from the meeting room. You planned to go back to your own dimension, but it was quite boring back there right now. So you hung out in the meeting room, suspended upside down from the ceiling. Tracking the activity of your own city, you were met with absolutely fuck all. No activity. No spikes in crime or anything altered on your own timeline.

Sighing, you dropped down to the floor, preparing to go back to your own timeline. You would have said goodbye to Miguel, but you weren’t exactly sure he wanted to talk to you right now.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard something. Your ears perked and the hairs on your arms stood up. It was coming from Miguel’s room. You shouldn’t have inspected, it wasn’t your place. But your feet took you there anyway. Outside his door, you pressed your ear up against it, listening intently. At first you thought he was communicating with someone. LYLA, perhaps. Until you heard something else. Groaning? Grunting, maybe. But then you heard moaning. And he was saying something. Your name. Your hand covered your mouth so that he wouldn’t hear you. But he sure as hell would have sensed your presence. Wouldn’t he?

You stepped back, knocking into the wall behind you. His noises halted almost immediately. Hearing his footsteps approach the door, you backed away quickly, but he opened the door before you were completely out of sight. His pupils were blown wide, his shirt discarded and his chest glistening slightly with sweat.

“I thought you’d left,” he said, his voice low, gruff.

“I stuck around, kept an eye on the screens for a little while,” you admitted. It wasn’t a lie, for the most part. “Thought you would have heard me, or known I was still here.”

He cocked his head in confusion.

“Spidey senses? I always know when someone’s around,” you smiled. But he shook his head in disagreement.

“I don’t have those. Wasn’t bitten by a spider, you see,” he revealed, and your eyebrow quirked. “How long have you been stood out here?”

Your heart dropped. “Um…not long. Was just about to leave anyway, so you get back to…whatever it is you were doing. I’ll see you around, O’Hara.”

You turned to leave until his voice stopped you. “Or you could…stay?” You didn’t turn around at first, but you felt him come up behind you. Close. Very fucking close. His heat radiated onto your back. “I’ve been cold towards you, I know that. I haven’t meant to be.”

“So why have you been?” You spun on your heel, almost stumbling as you came into contact with his bare chest. But his hand on your waist caught you.

“If I let myself enjoy your company as much as I do, I’ll become distracted from my life’s work,” he let his head drop.

Confidence suddenly overtook you and you placed a hand on his cheek, tilting his head back up to look at you. “Sometimes a distraction is what you need to be able to do your job.”

He chuckled. The first time you’d ever seen him do that. “You saying I do my job wrong?”

“I said sometimes, O’Hara,” you smiled. “But maybe a distraction is what you need right now.” Taking his hand, you led him back to his room. You expected him to pull away, but he didn’t, he followed. Miguel shut the door behind him and your eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, the only light source coming from his desk light. His hands found your waist from behind you, his breath on your neck.

“A distraction sounds pretty good right about now,” he purred in your ear, kissing your neck softly. You melted into his touch, your legs becoming a puddle. He kissed down your neck to your shoulder and you turned your head, letting your lips meet his in a gentle kiss.

This was the gentlest you’d ever seen him. Usually his walls were up, and he was cold and distant from everyone. But here…here he was entirely exposed. To you. You walked him slowly to the couch in the corner of the room, the backs of his knees hitting it before he sat down, his hands pulling you closer.

“You said you don’t have spidey senses, right?” You asked, standing before him. He looked up at you expectantly.

“What are you getting at here, princesa?”

“Just something I want to try.” You pulled the thick ribbon from your hair that tied it up in a bun whenever you were out of your suit. Your hair fell down to your shoulders, falling in front of your face.

“Oh, we’re trying things? So early on?” He joked, a small smile in his voice.

“Oh shush, I think you’ll like it,” you held the ribbon in front of him and he realised what you wanted to do. He nodded, his trust put in you. Covering his eyes, you tied it around the back of his head. “Just have a little faith.”

“In you, I do.”

You knelt before him, so thankful he was just in sweatpants. You weren’t very good at handling belts. Wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants, you felt him tense up lightly. “Easy, O’Hara. Just relax, okay?”

You looked up to see him nod. Smiling, you continued, pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles. He’d opted to go commando under those pants, and you stifled a gasp at what awaited you beneath the fabric.

Shit. you knew he was a big guy…but you didn’t expect him to be that big of a guy. Miguel’s cock sprang out of its confinement, hard, long and thick. For a moment you worried yourself that you wouldn’t be able to take all of him. Or even…most of him. But you were too pent up and needy for him that you pushed past it.

Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, Miguel shuddered at your touch. He didn’t want to admit it, but it had been a while for him. Having only his own hand to work with, he couldn’t fathom how good it felt to be your hand instead.

But fuck, the second he felt your mouth envelope his dick, he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his throat. You loved it, the raw feeling behind his groaning and whimpering. Taking him further in your mouth, you sucked slowly, deeply, your tongue circling the tip so his legs tightened under your hand where it laid, resting on his thigh.

You felt his hand travel to your head, fingers entangling in your hair and gripping it with a firm hold. He didn’t push, he just held you there. The more of him you took, the tighter his grip got. His panting and moaning was like music to your ears.

“Shit…shit…” he breathed, raising his hips up off the couch, his dick pushing deeper down your throat. He was about to come, on the verge of it, you could feel it. His head fell back against the top of the couch, his teeth gritted against each other as he felt the precipice of his orgasm fast approaching. “Wait, wait, wait.” He spoke quickly, racing through his words.

You did stop. Pulling away and looking up at him. “Are you okay?” You asked, worried you’d gone too far, too fast.

“I’m fine,” he panted, head tipped towards the ceiling. “But…” Miguel pulled down his blindfold so it hung loosely around his neck. He gazed at you, his eyes coated in a thin sheen, glossed over. “I’m not gonna be the only one who gets to feel this good though.” He pulled you up and onto his lap. You felt his dick twitch beneath you as your face was ever so close to his, inches away from one another. “So now it’s your turn, princesa.”

Miguel smirked, his hand sliding down the front of your pants, gliding under your panties and came into contact with your bare skin. Your breath shortened as his fingers drifted down to your pussy, already soaked from the moments previously, and he smirked at the wetness he felt there. “Already this wet, hmm? Guess it’s not going to take long for you to be able to take me, huh?” He was so smug. So confident. In any other instance you’d find it annoying, but right now you couldn’t have found it more attractive. All you could muster up was a quiet, desperate please.

He smiled, pushing a finger deep inside you and pulling a soft moan from you. God, he could listen to that on repeat for the rest of his life. Moving his finger in and out at a quickened pace, curving his fingertip to hit that sweet spot you could never reach yourself, he felt you clench around him, your eyes begging for more when your mouth couldn’t form the words. He happily obliged, adding a second finger. The palm of his hand grinding against your clit with the added pressure of his fingers fucking you was driving you to the edge quicker than you thought possible.

He knew it too. Your eyes rolling back, your hips shifting to rock with the rhythm of his fingers inside you. You were close.

“You want to come, angelita?” He asked, his words dripping with want, with need. For you. He watched you nod frantically. But he slowed his fingers, his other hand gripping your jaw gently, but firmly. “On my fingers, or on my cock, hmm?” He saw the way your eyes lit up at that proposal. “Oh, honey. I think I already know what you want.”

He didn’t even try and take off your pants, he tore right through them instead, his talons scraping against your skin, but never breaking your skin. Throwing your torn clothes across the room, he lifted you up so you hovered above him. Miguel grabbed his cock by the base, running it along your pussy, soaking the tip with your wetness.

Words escaped you and your mind went numb when he first pushed his cock into you. At first it felt overwhelming, the size of him frying your senses and fogging your head. Only at about half way in, Miguel started to feel resistance, and the look of shock and the overwhelmed tint in your eyes showed him why. “Just relax, conejita. You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, one hand on your thigh and the wrapped around your back.

His praise and encouragement cleared your clouded thoughts. You nodded, taking your time and sinking lower and lower until you reached the base. Letting out a deep breath, you gave yourself a few moments to adjust. Miguel smiled up at you. “Atta girl,” he mumbled, a smirk on his lips. He shifted his hips, rising up into you, purposefully grinding his dick up into your soaking pussy. Fuck, he loved the way you bit your lip to stifle your noises as to not make too much noise. Not that anyone else was here anyway. He wanted to hear you.

You started rocking back and forth on his dick, the tip hitting something devastatingly sweet every time and it sent shockwaves through your entire body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nails scratching into his back, digging crescent shaped indents into his skin as you rolled your hips quicker and quicker. Miguel’s hands both found their way to your hips, guiding your movements and controlling your speed. His head dipped down as he kissed your neck, taking your skin between his teeth and biting gently, sucking deep marks into your neck.

His lips trailed down, passing your collar bones, down your sternum to your breasts. His tongue circled your perked nipple before he sucked identical purple marks into your breasts, kissing along to the other breast as he did, giving the same treatment to both.

Mumbles and whimpers fell from your lips, flooding the room with your desperation for Miguel’s touch, for Miguel’s praises, for Miguel’s hands all over you. His fingers dug tighter into your hips, grinding you against him hard, his cock reaching the perfect places inside you to make you squirm, to make you cry out his name.

“You gonna come for me, princesa? Hmm?” He asked, a smidge of cockiness in his tone. He was good. And he knew he was good. You couldn’t deny it, not knowing that even though you were already so overwhelmed by the size of him, mixtures of pleasure and pain that balanced one another out perfectly, you couldn’t deny that you weren’t already craving more of him.

But the second he started raising his hips to meet yours, you lost it. Your head fell against his shoulder, and his lips attacked your neck, pressing soft kisses there, biting gently. His hand drifted between your bodies, putting pressure against your clit with his thumb. That’s when your body began to unravel, your senses skyrocketed. You gripped the back of his neck so tightly as you felt your orgasm growing closer, your thighs shaking and your movements started to falter in both speed and momentum.

Miguel sensed it it too, his hands on your hips becoming the sole thing after a point, that kept you grinding on his cock. He was close too. But he held out with all of his focus. Wanting you to come for him first. Needing you to. “Come on, honey,” he purred in your ear, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You let out a small cry, Miguel’s name playing on your tongue. Your orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t gentle either, like it usually was whenever you touched yourself. This was powerful. This was like a tsunami. It tore through you, electrifying your veins and causing you to clench hard. Your thighs caged him, closing tighter around his body as you clung to him. You bit into Miguel’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, but it didn’t stop him from fucking up into you. He didn’t stop. Not until your orgasm had finally satisfied the both of you. Your body collapsed against him, your chest heaving as you tried to regain all of your breath, filling your lungs to their capacity.

“You okay, conejita?” He asked, raking his fingers up and down your spine, kissing the side of your head. He chuckled lightly as you just nodded, a quiet groan all you could muster up at an attempt for words.

You lifted your head, leaning back to look at him. A gasp escaped your throat as he shifted beneath you once more, his cock twitching. “You didn’t…” Your words trailed off as you looked fown for a split second.

Miguel shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” You asked, a mixture of curiosity and a little embarrassment lacing your tone.

He smiled, leaning back, running his hands up and down your thighs. “You think I can only last one round, honey? I’m offended,” he laughed jokingly. Your eeys widened a little, and you were slightly concerned you wouldn’t be able to handle more right now. Not if it was as good as that. “Don’t look so afraid, baby,” he whispered, lifting you and your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you to the bed on the other side of the room, laying your down gently, your head settling comfortably into the pillows as he climbed on top of you, his body between your thighs. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Miguel, I don’t think you know the meaning of gentle.”

He matched your soft laugh with one of his own. Rolling his eyes, he leaned even closer to you, your lips almost touching. “I’ll try to be gentle. At first.” His eyes darkened in the dimmed room and your heart beat just a little faster. “But don’t think it’ll take me more than five minutes to fuck you into this bed until all you can do is scream my name.”

#miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spider verse #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #spiderman x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel ohara fanfiction #smut #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction

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theminecraftbee · 1 year ago

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sigh okay this year i have actual mob vote opinions. disclaimer: my MAIN opinion is that if i see too much mob vote salt on my dash i'll just block the relevant terms again, and that all three mobs are adorable and i'd like any of them. however, my vague thoughts on them:

crab: i have inherent vault hunters-based crab grudges. the coconut crab appears in my nightmares. however, past that, the crab as an animal is fun, i like crabs alright. the fact it's shown crawling up trees sideways is neat. i'll say mangrove forests are ALREADY one of the loveliest, most alive-feeling biomes, so i don't know if they need an exclusive mob? but it's also realistic for the crab so i'll take it. when it comes to the crab claw itself... many questions. is it an off-hand item? or like create's extendo-reach thing? or what? how MUCH additional reach does it give you? even just two blocks can be wildly useful in my modded experience, but like, is it one or two blocks, or does it double your reach, or what? and does that reach extend to mining at all? the video says it's just block placing, which would make sense from a balance perspective, but does sort of hamstring the claw's usefulness if that's the case; if you misplace a block you're going to have to scaffold over there anyway. if it DOES include mining reach... oh boy, that's a whole new ballgame.

armadillo: cute! i like armadillos! seeing it curled up as a ball, i wonder if it has a block-like form like that? that sounds really fun! like a shulker, or something else you could stand on. (that is PURE speculation, nothing else to suggest that is shown in the video.) it being found in "warm biomes like the savannah" i like more than the mangrove-exclusive crab, especially since the savannah can feel a little sparse and lifeless. i wonder if it's in other warm biomes? as for its effect, it has the most straightforward one: when it gets scared it sheds its scute, and you can use that to make wolf armor. i like wolf armor! wolves have needed some way to make them more survivable for ages! it's not like, got potential to be a massive gamechanger or anything, but it doesn't have to, it's fun!

penguins: by FAR the cutest design. i love that they chose macaroni penguins, excellent choice. the fact they're native to stony shore biomes is also an excellent choice (and far better than choosing a snowy biome; more penguins live in places like the stony shore irl!). the stony shore having penguins also gives it a bit more of the life stony shorelines have irl. their secondary effect, though... honestly, "make boats go faster" doesn't really speak to me? i am enjoying imagining a world where this effect works while iceboating (prepare to rubberband ALL OVER THE PLACE), and i think it would be fun, it just personally compels me the least. which is a shame, because i think the penguins are ABSOLUTELY the cutest!

overall, i think i land towards the armadillo. i like that none of them really have any big, exciting, game changing feature, just nice-to-have. makes it feel less like we miss out on something huge when two of them lose, just miss out on something potentially cute. i still wish the old mob votes could still be added to the game and that the losers here would also be added to the game. i wouldn't be mad if any of these guys won honestly they're all cute and have mildly interesting effects.

and this will be the last time i discuss the mob vote, except maybe to reblog cute art.

#minecraft #wanted to ramble my thoughts #anyway yeah i am Mildly Interested in all of these guys #i think the crab claw has the most potential to be gamebreaking but that it probably won't be lol #and that i understand what the wolf armor would do best #so. armadillo for me i think.#mob vote

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btskitten7 · 2 months ago

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Silent Grace| Chapter xiv: Love Lies

Ship: Min Yoongi x Fem reader

au/genre: Mafia!au

rating: M

wc: 3.3k

Chapter warnings: TW: anxiety mentions. Pregnancy mentions. Just a lot of uncomfortable conversations. Yoongi is starting to drink heavily.

summary: Yoongi isn't taking care of himself properly and is displaying some signs of depression and irrational behavior. It's mild in this chapter but please take care of yourselves. MOM FLASHBACK (finally right?) She will be getting a few more soon. Just a lot of uncomfortable conversations.

tagss: @shadowyjellyfishfest @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelylamc @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @wanceu @coldcoffee2121 @maunosorioh @massivelyfullenthusiast @bangtan-famiglia-net

Inside a dimly lit room, the smell of strong cigars and hushed whispers permeated the atmosphere as everyone waited for Yoongi to sit at the head of the long, marble table. A chandelier loomed, casting wavering shadows over his stony face and his black suit, hair slicked back just above his shoulders, only a single strain hanging over his eyebrow, and a cigar hanging from his mouth accentuating his power and authority.

"You're not here for the scenery, so stop gawking and sit the hell down," commanded Yoongi, his voice echoing around the room. The men quickly took their places, their bodies tense in the pleather chairs as they did their best to avoid his piercing gaze. They already knew that for the past few weeks, Yoongi had been on edge. He has been stricter, meaner, and colder.

Ever since Min did his bullshit, Yoongi has been His fingers drummed an irritated rhythm on the table as he surveyed each one of them. Internally, they began to quake—from fear, anticipation, or maybe both—they couldn't tell.

"Been a tough week, boys, hasn't it?" he started, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "Losses left and right, seventy-thousand out from the casino, and don't even get me started on that botched shipment down at the docks."

His glare landed on the men responsible, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Now, care to explain why I'm hearing about these screw-ups from everyone but you?"

Crippling silence filled the room. One of them nervously tried to stammer out an excuse, his eyes darting from Yoongi to Seokjin and Jungkook then to the rich textured carpet underneath them. Yoongi interrupted him with a swift bang on the table, silencing the weakened protest.

"Excuses, excuses..." he spat, teeth gritted. "You know what, I'm sick and tired of it — tired of the incompetence, tired of the idiocy. How hard is it to do your job and report back to me without making a mess of it? Now is not the time to start pissing me off. I do not have the patience for it."

The harsh light from the chandelier threw Yoongi's furious expression into sharp relief. His fury was palpable, a wave crashing across the room, leaving a biting chill in its wake.

"From now on, any additional failures will not only result in a punishment for you but for the entire family," he declared, deadly calm. Every word dripped with poison. He meant every syllable. "If one of us fails, we all fail. You don't want to imagine how severe the consequences will be."

With that parting shot, he stood. The room snapped to attention, bodies rigid and faces pale. Yoongi left with Jungkook and Seokjin swiftly, their presence leaving behind a palpable tension and gnawing fear that had everyone exchanging worried glances as the door closed.

“Yoongi” Seokjin said as they headed down the hall.

“Yeah, Hyung?” Yoongi said calmer, more timid than just mere minutes ago.

Jungkook could feel the anxiety pouring from Yoongi, something he had never seen in him.

“Don’t you think it’s time for a break? Maybe we should grab a bite to eat on the way home.” Seokjin simply said.

“I’m not all that hungry. If you two would like to eat, then yes we can stop.” Yoongi said finally turning to face the two men.

“You should take care of yourself. You need to.” Jungkook said full of worry for the man he loved and looked up to as a brother.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll rest at home.”

But he didn’t.

You waited up for him all night. Not once did he step into the room after he came in to kiss you. He told you he’d be only an hour but he wasn’t.

He spent the whole night in his office displaying his true feelings. He cried, screamed, and kicked. He felt as if he was on a downward spiral. He didn’t feel safe. He didn’t have his security. He didn’t have his parents or his brothers. Of course, he knew that he had you, Seokjin, and Jungkook but he didn’t want them right now. He wanted nothing more than to be in his mother's arms. Hearing her tell him that everything would be okay while he cried. He wanted to be with his brothers. Seeing how their lives were. If they got married. If they had kids. He wished he and Hoseok were still friends. Just be normal. Or at least how it used to be.

He wished his father didn’t break him the way he did. He wished he could go back to a time when he looked up to his father. The world when in his eyes, he could do no wrong. The world made since then.

Now he doesn’t know which way to go. Who to even talk to?

~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in your shared bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test in your hand. Two lines, pink and clear, stared back at you. A positive result. You couldn't believe it. You had been feeling nauseous and tired for weeks, but you had brushed it off as stress from leaving your job and all the shit that’s been going on. Now you were faced with the truth.

Your mind raced as you tried to process the information. You wanted this. At least you thought you did. You just knew that right now was probably the worst time to even THINK about bringing a baby into this mess. Besides, the idea of being a mother seemed overwhelming and terrifying. Especially when you are in love with someone who has a lot of people out to get him and the ones he loves.

Especially when one of them is his father.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You felt your heart beat out of your chest with worry. You knew Yoongi would do everything he could to make this as easy as possible but you also knew that now was not the best time. He wasn’t ready. You knew you had to figure out what to do. You couldn't just ignore the pregnancy. Whatever you decide to do, you need to do it as soon as possible.

You put the pregnancy test down and ran your fingers through your hair.

At-home pregnancy tests aren’t always 100% and could easily be misread.

You decided you should go to go to the store and grab a few more.

You throw the trash and the test into the trash once you hear your bedroom door open.

“Yn, are you okay?” Yoongi asked knocking on the door softly before opening the door.

You straightened up and nodded, forcing a smile on your face.

“Of course baby. I was just freshening up. Are you okay? You haven’t been to bed yet..” You asked looking at the tired look that painted his face. Yoongi nodded, his voice still hoarse from all the crying, screaming, and drinking he had done all night. “I’m fine baby. I’m going to nap pretty soon.”

You sighed and nodded “ I’m going to run to the store. Do you need anything?” You asked washing your hands.

Yoongi shook his head.

“No, I’m okay. What are you going to the store for? Maybe I can get someone to grab it for you while we’re out.” Yoongi said, pulling you to him with a smile.

You swore you were going to melt in his hands. His hugs always made things feel better. Like there was not one worry in the world. You did the same for him. Everything made sense.

If only that could be the case for you two.

You knew he would be an amazing father.

“No, it’s okay baby. I don’t mind. I’m going to order it on my phone and just pick it up.” You said looking up at him.

Yoongi nodded.

“Okay, baby. Do you want me to drive you there? I don’t mind.” Yoongi said.

You nodded.

“Okay, baby. Let me just grab my purse.” You smiled jogging to the room.

That’s when Yoongi noticed the bathroom light on, prompting him to go to turn it off. His eyes trailed to the bathroom trash. He noticed the pregnancy test and its wrappers. His mind started to spiral but he didn’t want to be obvious.

“Are you ready baby?” You asked grabbing his hand. He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, let me grab my keys. Wait for me downstairs.”

You nodded and kissed his cheek before heading out of the room.

Yoongi's eyes dropped down back down to the trash.

After you went downstairs, Yoongi stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few minutes, Yoongi met you downstairs. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands comfortably resting on your stomach which instantly sent shivers down your spine. You moved from his hold and turned to him. “Are you okay?” You asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His question to your question made you…uneasy.

“Of course. I’m fine. Why?” you asked.

“I’m just a little worried. It’s been a little over a week and we haven’t heard anything yet about the results. Have you gotten anything?” Yoongi asked.

“N-no. I haven’t heard anything yet..” you stuttered holding onto your purse.

Something is telling Yoongi that you already know the answer but he didn’t want to press you nor did he want you to think he was angry. He just nodded.

“Okay. Just when you get the results, tell me. As soon as you get them.” He said sternly.

You nodded but he pulled you closer to him and lifted your chin, kissing your lips.

Yoongi looked at you, holding your waist and his eyes started to water. You opened your mouth to say something but Yoongi shook his head.

“I’m going to protect you and our child if there is one. You don’t need to worry about that. Just please…don’t start hiding from me,” he started, his voice shaking softly “Be honest with me..are you pregnant?”

Your heart fell to your stomach and your hands started to sweat. Tears started to swell in your eyes as he continued to look at you with the most loving look and gently rubbed your chin. He knew the answer, quite frankly, he knew the answer days ago. And he knew the hospital had already sent them to you. Jungkook was able to get into the system and email him the results. He instructed Jungkook not to read them, he knew he was already invading your privacy. He didn’t want anyone else to.

“Come into my office.”

Yoongi’s eyes turned dark as he lowered his hands and gripped your wrist softly. He led you to his office which caught Seokjin off guard as he walked in.

“Yoongi” he mumbled to himself. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve known for quite some time haven’t you?” Yoongi asked walking around his desk before sitting in his chair. His eyes never left yours. You were terrified. You didn’t think he would hurt you…

But you also didn’t think he’d be a mob boss either.

Your silence answered everything he needed to know.

Yoongi's piercing gaze bore into you, his words like icy daggers slicing through your composure. "Blossom, my love," he drawled, his voice dripping with sadness and worry, "I have eyes everywhere. Everywhere you go, every move you make, I know. Why would you think you could hide this from me for long? Why didn’t you just tell me?"

A bitter chuckle escaped Yoongi's lips as he crossed his legs and settled back in his chair revealing a painful sign, propping his elbow on the desk and resting his face in his palm. "Although I must admit, you're not particularly skilled at the art of deception," he continued, his eyes narrowing. "Your attempts to hide things from me are as clumsy as they are transparent. It’s quite cute. I can admire it."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You had known that Yoongi was powerful, but the extent of his surveillance had never dawned on you until this moment. The way he can switch his demeanor is concerning for you.

You choked on your words. “Eyes everywhere? W-what does that even mean?”

“It means, anything I want to know? I will find it out whether or not you tell me or I find out on my own” Yoongi said blankly.

“Did you get the test results before me? Why would-”

“Why would you keep your pregnancy away from me?” Yoongi spat.

If you could make yourself disappear, you would. You felt as if you were getting scolded by a principal and you hated it.

He was your BOYFRIEND, not your father.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you, Yoongi” you started but he interrupted you,

“You weren’t telling me either. That’s my child unless it’s not-” You jumped up,

“DON’T-” You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions from spiraling. “Don’t say nonsense Yoongi. I haven’t been with anyone else and you know that”

Yoongi stood to his feet and leaned closer to you, “Then why the fuck did you keep this from me?”

“You’re going through a lot right now. I just didn’t think you could handle one more thing. A life-changing thing. It’s not like we can just throw this away. It’s a fucking baby. A fucking baby in your world of madness. I was trying to be considerate” You said watching him as he walked around his desk and stood over you.

“Considerate? Don’t fucking humor me, Yn.” He chuckled. “No one is considerate in this world, not to me.”

Your face softened. You could see the pain written on his face. He was hurt and you could understand why.

“Yoongi…I didn’t do it to be spiteful or to keep it from you. I just thought it would have been best if I waited.” You said looking up at him. “You have a lot on your plate, I just didn’t think you needed anything else. To be fair I haven’t known that long…”

Yoongi shook his head.

“Although, I can appreciate your efforts,” he starts, “Now is not the time to try to keep things from me. Not now. Not ever.” Yoongi finished. “This would be the worst time in the world.” He whispered.

You looked at him and adverted your gaze from him.

“I can’t handle any more secrets, Blossom…” Yoongi’s voice cracked. “Not anymore.”

Your heart broke into pieces. Seeing an otherwise strong man break like this destroyed you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Yoongi…you know that wasn’t my intention. But you don’t get to make comments like that as if I’d ever be with someone else…” You said equally as hurt as he felt right now. Yoongi nodded, disgusted with his comments towards you.

“You’re right…and I’m sorry. I just can’t figure out why you wouldn’t tell me. I know what you said but…this is important to me.” Yoongi said softly. “You are important to me, we are important to me”

You look at him and held his hand, “I know. You are just as important to me. I want the best for us but now we have a baby…”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Yoongi said cutting you from your thoughts.

“I guess I could understand but why not?”

“Because no one can know you’re pregnant. No one.”

Yoongi was serious and you could tell. He refused to let Namjoon or his father even get a hint of an idea that you were pregnant.

As if he didn’t have a better reason, he had to avoid his father at all costs.

“Not even Seokjin, Kai and Jungkook? What have they done?” You asked.

“Especially them. I know they won’t say anything but I don’t even want them to even have an idea.” Yoongi admitted. “Namjoon pulled the rug from right underneath me, I cannot give anyone else another chance to do it.”

You were honestly disappointed by this. This is probably the most normal your life is going to feel.

“You don’t sound too happy about this..” you said sounding defeated. Yoongi pulled you into his arms shaking his head.

“I’m happy. No, I’m very happy. I’m just nervous and I don’t want anyone to know just yet not until I can make sure I can trust them. I have a family to protect now.”

Hearing Yoongi talk like this gave you butterflies. Yoongi would be damned if his father fucked this up for him. You looked up at him with a broken smile and tears filling your eyes.

“I’m scared, Yoongi.” You whispered.

“I am too. I am terrified but we can do this. I believe in us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, Yoongi was on your ass about everything.

There was nowhere you could go that he didn't know.

It was as if he had a sixth sense, an innate awareness of your whereabouts.

"Blossom, why is it taking you so long to answer your phone?" He inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and impatience.”Do I need to get you another one?”

You were deep asleep in your cozy bed, stirred slightly at the sound of your phone ringing. Groaning softly, you fumbled around for the device, your eyes still heavy with slumber.

"Baby...I was taking a nap. I’m just tired. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to ignore you." you mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.

Yoongi exhaled a sigh of relief as he heard your voice, chuckling at how cute you sounded. The tension that had been coiling around his heart slowly began to unwind.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just needed to hear your voice." Yoongi said, his voice finally relaxed.

You smiled drowsily, heart melting at the sound of Yoongi's gentle words. You knew that he was constantly worried about you, and although at times it felt too much, you couldn't help but feel touched by his unwavering devotion.

"I love you, Yoongi," you whispered, “I’m okay” your voice soft and tender.

"I love you too, Blossom," Yoongi replied, his heart soaring at the sound of your confession.

In that moment, as you exchanged sweet nothings over the phone, the world around him faded away. All that mattered was the love you shared, a love that defied the boundaries of time and space.

“I’m only a few minutes away,” Yoongi said. “Okay, baby. I’ll wait up for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi’s mother hasn’t had much to say to Min since everything happened. She has finally lost everything. She lost her family. Her sons and she could hardly stand to even see her husband. She was honestly a shell of a woman.

Her family was everything to her, especially since she didn’t have it growing up.

~~~~~~

“Seo-Yeon”

She looked up at her mother with big beautiful eyes and the brightest smile the world had ever seen.

Seo-yeon loved her mother. More than anything, only after her father disappeared. She spent most of her time with her mother since her father left the family to pursue another one a few years ago.

She grew up as a daddy’s girl at heart. Seo-yeon was very close with her mother but her father was everything to her.

He would take her to the park, take her for ice cream, he would even buy her random gifts he would see as he would head home from work. He loved his family but he couldn’t help falling for a coworker.

What seemed normal one day quickly went to shit.

Now it’s just her and her mother. Trying to live a normal life.

“Are you ready to go to your father’s?” Seo-yeon’s mother asked. Seo-yeon’s smile fell as she slowly shook her head. “No” she mumbled.

Seo-yeon’s mother sighed, dropped her bag, and sat next to her, wrapping her arm around the small girl. “He misses you”

“He doesn’t” Seo-yeon shook her head.

“He does. He loves you so much. It’s just harder for him since he has a new baby. You are a big sister, you always wanted to be one.” her mother tried to cheer her up.

Seo-yeon just nodded and suppressed her feelings.

Like she always did

#bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts angst #bts x reader #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #bts jhope #bts namjoon #bts smut drabble #bangtanwhq #bts fic #bts series #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts seokjin #bts mafia series #bts mafia

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terrence-silver · 5 months ago

Note

You know the night in CK in S5 where Terry gets his home invaded, could you rewrite the night but with a heavily pregnant beloved?

The Honorable Thing To Do.

Mike Barnes, Johnny Lawrence, Chozen Toguchi (POV) and the non-shippy presence of Reader!Beloved x Terry Silver (Only Mentioned).

Inspired by this post.

―

-"Man, this asshole has more statues than a Vegas casino."-

Johnny Lawrence remarks stumbling through the main pathway of a vast estate comprised of an immaculate trimmed green lawn that resembled a carpet fenced in from all sides by tall, palatial walls and an unusual amount of marble figures dotting the grassy spaciousness of the garden that followed them along the eternity of the grounds, casting long, dark shadows in the cover of night — pillars of carved, pale stone illuminated by a faint moonlight, vines coiling around ankles and wrists, growing in the crevices and curves of sharp, stony edges, seeming like they were deliberately allowed to grow there by a skilled, devoted gardener instead of being old, mossy and unkempt. It was sleek.

A clearly new addition to the fortress of the dragon.

It was quiet, too quiet, as they snuck in, or at least tried to, somehow, in their inebriated state, the sound of their footsteps along the tiled pavement echoed back as uncharacteristically loud in his ears. What struck Chozen the most, he supposed, that they were all chiseled images of women made out of white granite and that the enemy’s domain, well, it was undeniably beautiful, all palm trees, perfectly kept magnolia bushes, decorative rocks, vines and a sleek, colossal front door in front of them, made from what seemed like polished, pitch black Oak. This was it. End of the line. Mike Barnes wordlessly lifts his leg on instinct, intending to crash through with a kick only to be stopped by a slurring Johnny. One too many drinks tonight. No good. The feeling here wasn’t good either. Not what Chozen expected it to be going in. Too serene. Too lulling. Like the quiet before the storm. Like an ambush. A trap on the enemy's own turf and territory. Chozen carefully leans against the surface of the mansion’s entrance, intent on listening. Trying to catch a sound from the great indoors. Complete and utter quietude. He’d almost prefer it if he’d catch the sound of something. Anything. -"No, no, no. That looks heavy as shit. You’ll break your foot."- Johnny chastises, shoving Mike out of the way, getting into a stance of his own instead. -"I’ll do it."- He offers blatantly, and no, not smart, Chozen concludes. They weren't smart right now. They were drunk. Not drunk enough to not be aware they were drunk. Last thing they needed was to trigger whatever hidden alarm system this manor had in place by breaking down the front door and causing enough noise to wake up half of the city. For a man of this much abundance to leave his home unattended, it just wasn’t feasible, but to his surprise, the palm of his hand resting on the dark wood moves and the door slides ajar along with it.

Unlocked?

And no one at home?

Why?

If it the questions didn’t compound skyhigh by then, they’d certainly tumble over right there and then, like a tower made out of cards.

He leads the way, figuring someone had to, and he gestures, ushering the two men behind him into the darkness, minding his steps trying to keep their balance along the surface of the floor that blurred and narrowed through the haziness of his eyesight, causing him to stumbling into what seemed like an open, marble floor lobby descending into small winding corridors, somewhat labyrinthian in nature, if memory served from his last visit here. Many rooms. Many cameras. Many hidden places. Many weapons, Chozen reminds himself, nearly jumping if only due to a momentary distraction, fingers squeezed into fists on the ready, long shadows cast by the reflection of the lobby’s mirrors concealing the silhouette of a person, standing in the doorway quietly. Not large enough to be Silver himself, but nonetheless, a somebody. His intuition told him it was too silent on premises; that something about that was innately suspicious, and as if on cue, Lawrence’s reaction is the loudest, breaking through the noiselessness of the hall, cutting like a knife, putting all three of them on immediate alert and the shadow shaped like a person stirs and moves, head and shoulders perfectly sharp in outlines against the light coming in from the garden, the body shapeless, a black blur in the murky dimness of the entrance foyer. The face? Concealed and pitch black. Seemingly almost entirely featureless, save for the tip of tip of a nose. The outline of a mouth. Someone who deliberately avoided moving to, in equal measure, avoid detection. -"Holy shit!"- Johnny yelps, staggering forward, eyes squinty, like he was trying to make out the details in front of him and failing to do so with precision, only for his nostrils to widen with surprise, leaving Chozen to stare back and forth between him and the blackness at the edge of the immense atrium. -"What’s this? Molly Ringwald in ‘For Keeps’ meets the Poltergeist or some shit?"- Johnny stutters and the confusion deepens, swirling, the reference an unknown, and quickly rendered irrelevant once Chozen catches the outline of a hand on a torso traveling lower, landing on what he recognized as a belly. The airflow of breath hitches in his throat. There was nobody here but a woman in a wide nightgown, halfway embracing herself for comfort, in an obvious bout of anxiety judging by her body language.

Someone terrified of them and trying not to show it.

-"I’ll call the police."-

She says, trying for an obvious air of firmness in an attempt to intimidate them, but her voice coming through shaky. Scared. Her demand unintentionally relayed more as a plea, less like a threat. The needle of instant regret is there, looming, pinching something inside of Chozen, digging beneath layers of skin.

Hostage?

No, no. Something else. A hostage would immediately run over, pleading for help.

Begging to be rescued.

-"He keeping you here by force or something!? Okay, where’s the cameras?"-

Johnny bombastically voices his exact concerns, spewing fire, staring daggers at the corners of the walls looking for blinking red lights watching them from some hidden security room, practically spitting his words and Mike brushes past him, ever the irritant, nearly crashing into him, unfettered, voice gruff and unimpressed, his footsteps loud, wide and booming. Impatient. Determined. Like he intended to demolish the place just for the sake of doing so, irregardless if the owner was present to see it or not, perhaps precisely because he wasn't present to see it or even stop it, giving him no fighting chance, intending to strike from the back, unexpected, kicking below the belt. Aggrieved former student. Lots of anger. He leads the way, practically charging as he ranted in stride, marching deeper into the foyer.

-"I know this guy’s tricks and he’s full of them! A subversion. To distract us. Don’t fall for it! He did worse crap for far less! But, this one’s really bottom of the barrel! Lets go!"-

The needle presses on invisibly and Chozen reaches forward, running after Barnes before he could do something bad, grabbing his forearm, stopping him. Dragging him back. The garden light illuminated by solar pipes and flares casts a ray of distant, pale brightness on the human shaped silhouette in front of them, and all Chozen sees is dignity veiled by fear, frozen in place. This was the shadow’s home and it didn’t intend to flinch, but was nonetheless too frightened and too alone to fight back. This was someone important. To Silver. The hand on the end of its torso guarding someone even more special. -"No."- His demand is final. Simple.

-"His woman."-

He explains hastily, watching Barnes’ face grow from a mask of fury to complete and utter bafflement, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, mouth sliding agape, his wrath caught in a stalemate, having nowhere to go or to be channeled, Barnes expresses it by yanking his hand free and pacing vigorously, not unlike someone trying to walk off the side effects of their intoxication. Clear their head. This was Terry Silver’s woman and his unborn child they just stumbled upon. Johnny approaches him in the midst of Barnes doing exasperated circles around the room, head thrown back and he looks at Chozen, really looks at him, extending his arm forward, pointing at the person who’s acquaintance they accidentally made. Chozen imagines a baby’s crib, standing in a bedroom. A curtain. Terry Silver looming above it. Watching out into the night. He lied. He lied when they talked about their true ambitions. When Silver said his one regret was not having any children to continue his legacy. It was obvious now. He lied, because he didn't want anyone to know. Not the genuine facts of the matter. Didn't want anyone to jeopardize any of it. When a man starts lying about things in order to hide them, a man's keeping a weakness hidden, willing to do anything and everything to avoid having it be exploited by outside forces. Chozen closes his eyes, contemplating things. Big mistake. Coming here. Huge. -"The guy’s like eighty!"- Johnny shouts, outraged. Sato was eighty too at one point in time and he had entertainers come over at the end of every work week to pour his Sake too. Being old meant nothing. The puzzle pieces, though. They fall into place. Creating a cohesive picture. An understanding. An understanding only confirmed once the face of the person in front of them is partially illuminated from a nearby window and the recognition is near instant. It hits him like a flash of lightning. -"All over the garden."- Chozen attempts to explain, certain he wouldn’t be outright understood anyway that he was trying to tell them that they bypassed this silhouette at least half a dozen times, only in the form of carved marble. Silver had filled the premises of his estate with her likeness. Unbidden, Kumiko comes to mind and all the ways their village used to be plastered with the home made variation of posters whenever she’d perform during celebrations. She too, was loved. By everyone.

-"His woman."-

He carefully points to her and then lower, to the protective shield of her hand and what it was hiding.

At this point, Chozen’s whispering, as if though him speaking could actually disrupt the nap of the unborn in the womb, catching himself doing it, feeling the tipsiness engulf him like a swift tide and finding the gesture silly.

-"His baby."-

Johnny scoffs in a mixture of disbelief, drunkenness, snark and the obvious feeling of being entirely at a loss for words, joining an exasperated Mike in their nervous, anger-fueled, partially embarrassed pacing. Sensitive topic? Due to his and Carmen-san’s blessing on the way? They should go. They should go now. You lift up a nearby object from a nearby commode, placing it over your head, defensively; a warning to anyone, that if they step closer, or if they refuse to listen to the given demands, there was a blunt object at hand on the ready, even though, by the looks of you, the rounded, swollen shape of your belly outlining and rounding the edges of your night gown, Chozen was certain you’d attack no one and certainly not three men, calling your bluff. That you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and that grabbing what seemed like a metal, decorative candle holder was simply meant to highlight your horror and desperation and how badly you wanted to be left alone, like a cornered animal bearing its teeth. Your voice squeaks and instinctively, Chozen lifts his hands up, trying to pacify you. Assure you that he wouldn’t. He wouldn't hurt you and he wouldn't let anyone else hurt you either. He left the path of dishonor behind a long time ago, taking a step back, wanting to disappear as uneventfully as possible, fingers hooking themselves into the seams of Johnny’s sleeve and dragging him back with himself too, once you plead, eyes shimmery in the darkness, brightened by the presence of suppressed tears. Daniel and Amanda-san never told him about the existence woman and they lived here for decades. Did they know at all? -"Please, leave. Please."- You beg, out of breath, standing your ground frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, looking like it hurt to stand as long as you were standing in only your house slippers burdened under the weight of your own belly propped up with one arm. Barnes explodes, lounging forward, impatience and impulsiveness culminating in a roar fire that was harder and harder to put out by the minute, his legs floundering mid-movement. Like mud and water, it wasn't good putting together a drunk, pissed off man who's own family was under fire and the family of the man who did it all. Barnes was out for blood. Smelled it like a clumsy, starved shark.

-"I had enough of this crap! Had a couple of drinks, yeah, okay, but I’m not getting conned like this! Where is he!? What hole did he crawl into!? She could be literally anyone and we’re falling for the oldest trick in the book! You think paying an actor stand-in is beneath him!? Nothing’s beneath him! He’s the father of lies!"-

Chozen’s legs move on their own accord and without him even having the chance to think, and before he knows it, he’s cut off Mike’s way, placing his body in front of him like a barrier and his hand to the man’s chest, letting him go no further. There would be days for revenge. But, it would be not this day. This night. Decades of striving to make things right with one’s soul wouldn’t be lost tonight. Chozen invested too much in his soul to drag it through the gutter all over again. -"No! We’re leaving. Honorable thing to do."- He whispers, head bent, the open palm of his hand never flinching from the surface of Barnes’ chest heaving with irritation and then ultimately, cooling down in the cloud of surrender, brows furrowed like he loathed to be told what to do They came here to deal with Silver, fueled by the euphoria of liquid courage, not antagonize a sobbing, pregnant woman. Barnes' features dropped like he was willing to begrudgingly accept that.

Chozen turns to you, speaking softly. Slowly.

-"Our business not with you."-

He couldn’t tell what you looked like. Not entirely. Not in this lack of light.

But, he swears he spots the wave of relief wash over you through a blur.

He bows with his full body facing forward, bent towards you, feeling it’s the correct gesture, throwing in a tiny smile for good measure, wondering if it'll alleviate the tension in the air. Not come off as mockery. As disingenious. The battle is always between the combatants. Involving the innocent — makes the battle dirty. Low. Cheapens the victory. Cheapens even the act of participation itself.

Chozen reminded himself that mantra every day for thirty years.

-"Apologies for intrusion."-

He excuses himself in a clipped manner, lifting his lower body up just as quickly as he paid his respects and Chozen’s out the door, dragging the two fools along with him, giving one last quick bow once his foot stepped over the precipice, his hand closing the door behind him, watching you lower the candelabra, your shoulders suddenly dropping. -"Have a pleasant evening. Gomenasai."- He throws in a final line, speaking Japanese with the conviction that it sounded more sincere and profound than a mere 'Sorry' in English, closing the entrance to the mansion with a loud thud and exhaling, suddenly realizing he’s been keeping his breath for far too long and that Barnes and Lawrence were standing by his side, humbled, eying the door with incredulity, appearing defeated, halfway on the verge of barging back inside, halfway on the verge of questioning what drove them to come here in the first place, the answer being drinks. Mostly the drinks. Terry Silver would come for them for this, Chozen knew, if for any reason, then simply for daring to frighten someone his --- and he paces, walking away from the marble front porch, realizing he needed to be ready. They all needed to be ready. There would be war. For every single tear you cried here tonight. For every bit of stress you suffered. Possibly even the very fact that they saw you and discovered your existence in the first place when it was so obvious now the enemy wanted you hidden. Terry Silver wanted you hidden. -"That’s some bullshit!"- Johnny huffs, protesting catching up with him, Barnes right on his tail, appearing gloomy, eyes dark and distant. The estate grounds open up around them and there they are, marble women with marble eyes, staring into nothing. Lawrence stares at them with suspicion, gaze oscillating between watching the premises lest something came alive and jumped them from the darkness and being in Chozen’s ear, ranting feverishly in a quick stride. Your image surrounds the whole manor. Loved. You must've been very loved. -"I didn’t even know the ponytailed prick had a chick and a bun in the oven!"- Hai. Exactly. Precisely. Treasure’s no longer a treasure if everyone has a key to its keep. If everyone knows where it's buried. Chozen shakes his head, feeling his lips press into a firm line; something inside of him told him there would be consequences for this. A payback. A settling of the scores. And this time around, a lot more than just Barnes’ livelihood would burn and he couldn’t decide if Silver was more dangerous while he seemingly didn’t have who to lose or now that they discovered that he has.

-"That’s whole point. Not to know."-

He reaffirms humorlessly, slipping into the night.

#terry silver #chozen #chozen toguchi #johnny lawrence #mike barnes #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; home invasion #tw; pregnant reader #tw; breaking and entering #cobra kai #kk3

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sineala · 1 month ago

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Are there ANY stony/Star Trek AUs?

Okay. Um. I'm just going to assume this is a legitimate question and not actually a way to express frustration about my progress on the sequel I am writing (I stared at this ask for a while), so I will just conclude that you must have missed the Steve/Tony Star Trek AU I wrote, um, back in 2016:

Straight on till Morning (109848 words) by Sineala Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Avengers (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Carol Danvers, Janet Van Dyne, Hank Pym, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Clint Barton, Donald Blake (Marvel), Jocasta (Marvel) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Action/Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pining, Angst, Secret Identity, Identity Porn, Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Caves, Sex In A Cave, Technobabble, Happy Ending, Cap_Ironman Big Bang 2016, Community: cap_ironman, Podfic Available Summary:

Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive.

But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything.

So, yeah, if you actually haven't read that one, that'll keep you busy for a while. It's a Trek fusion with comics Steve/Tony, set in the era of the later TOS movies. (This is important so that you can picture the correct uniforms, and also because it actually matters that the events of Star Trek II, III, and IV have happened.) It was a Big Bang fic, so it's got some great art by Ran and Phoenix -- embedded in the story -- and also M_Samro made a really amazing podfic of it, if you like podfics.

For a charity auction in 2017, I promised I would write a sequel, and I plotted the whole thing out and started writing this extremely epic sequel, which was unfortunately, about a plague threatening the galaxy, and I got about 120,000 words in and then 2020 happened and I decided I needed to not be writing it right now. So it went on an extended hiatus.

But the good news is that I've actually gotten back to it! I picked it up again last month and I've put 40,000 more words in it since then and at this exact moment I am currently working on the last scene of Chapter 4 (out of six total)! I swear it is happening! I've been putting in about a thousand words a day for the past month! It is really happening this time! The sequel is coming! I promise! I know it has been years but it's happening!

See? It's happening! (I would include a screencap of the part that is happening, but all of Chapter 4 is pretty spoilery.)

So that will exist! Someday! I mean that!

And if you're asking about Steve/Tony Star Trek AUs by people other than me, there are some! If you filter the AU - Star Trek Fusion tag by Steve/Tony, there are 25 matches. Several of them are related to my fic (remixes, art) but there is some stuff that isn't my fault! I haven't read a lot of them because I was trying not to read things that seemed like they might be similar to mine while I was plotting my series here, and also I have never finished watching DS9, so I skipped the DS9 ones.

Under Stars by vulcanscully: A fun fusion that I thought was interesting because Steve is an ensign and that's not how this usually goes.

Discovery of the Century by DepressingGreenie: More 616 in flavor than a lot of the Trek AUs, this is basically Finding Steve In The Ice but Make It Star Trek. As far as I am concerned, Finding Steve In The Ice is great every time.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza: I'm probably biased because this one was inspired by my fic, but I also really enjoyed this one for not being how these things usually go. A lot of Trek AUs in many fandoms are written through a TOS/AOS kind of lens and will often do a Kirk/Spock thing and make one of them a Vulcan or half-Vulcan. In this one that's Tony, but also he's a terrible Vulcan! He's found a new way to disappoint his father!

Stellar Love Affairs by AvengersNewB: I honestly had never imagined a Star Trek fusion that was also A/B/O but I think it really works here! It's like bringing pon farr full circle.

Xenophilia by Captain_Panda: Captain_Panda has several Trek AUs but I am reccing this one because it's the longest. And also the whumpiest. Everyone loves some good away-mission whump!

So there you go! Live long and prosper! I promise I am still writing this Star Trek AU sequel!

#replies #stark-phd

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artificial-transmutations · 3 months ago

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Out Now: Dam Breakers

Hello everyone! I'm extremely excited (and, quite frankly, more than a bit nervous) to announce that I finished my fantasy romance novel Dam Breakers!

For the very TLDR-version: It is available here! Be sure to read the disclaimer below, though.

First of all, thank you! Everyone who reads my stories or likes them shows me that there is at least some interest in my mediocre writing. And even though the novel is not exactly like my stories here (more to that later), it gives me hope that you and other people might like it.

Now, for the actual novel!

Dam Breakers is the tale of Jared, a rather normal modern day college student, and Aleron, an apprentice mage living in a secluded tower with his teacher. One fateful day, they meet and are drawn into a maelstrom of magic, change and love - and dark secrets threatening to destroy everything they loved.

With over 120000 words, this is not only my longest story yet, but also my most carefully crafted one. I will attach an image of my Obsidian graph for the story at the end of the post.

Disclaimer:

As I have mentioned, it is a bit different from the stories I usually post here. First and foremost, it's a lot tamer. This novel isn't meant as a porn piece, but as an intriguing fantasy and romance tale. While there is love, desire and sex, of course, it's way more sparse and less explicit than, for example Closer Than Flesh.

It also features transformation themes, and the concept of change is one of the main focus points of the book, but, again, don't expect 500 pages full of transforming bodies because of it :)

And, finally, for a multitude of reasons, it does not contain AI generated images. I wouldn't be able to generate any that do the story justice, anyway.

Now that you know what not to expect, here are some things you MAY expect:

Transformation. Both in the sense of bodily changes but intriguing character development as well.

Gay Love. This is a story about two men from different worlds falling in love with each other, and their stony road to being together.

Magic. It's a fantasy story, and a truly enchanting one at that, with a fresh concept of magic and change.

Story. Last, but certainly not least, it's a good and interesting read, at least according to my opinion. Since I might be a bit biased here, let me tell you that my beta readers agree.

If you still want to read it (and I hope you do!), then you can grab your copy here:

If you are not in the US, you can just replace the .com with, for example, .co.uk to go to your local Amazon marketplace

I have not forgotten, of course, that I promised a special condition for you folks at Tumblr. Since Amazon makes it a bit difficult to actually implement that, I plan to offer a time limited discount or giveaway in a few weeks. I'll announce the exact time here on my blog beforehand.

If you really want to support me, it would mean a lot to me if you could leave a review on Amazon. That influences the algorithm a lot and helps the book get visibility, which is incredibly important . So, please, if you like the book, leave a review.

Teaser / Preview (mild spoilers)

And here is a short look into the book, from chapter 4. It contains some mild spoilers, but nothing too important. I also added an AI image, which is not in the book (see above).

[...]

Even though the weather was unstable, Jared enjoyed the journey through the vibrant spring land. It was a closeness to nature he had never experienced. Even back home with his parents, in rural Texas, the land had seemed different. Back there, the wilderness had been tamed decades if not centuries ago. There was no wonder, no adventure. Here, there were hills and forests, rivers and bogs, and who knew what else. It was as if Jared was seeing the world for the first time. Not to mention the smell. Jared could not remember a time when he had smelled the spring air like this.

In addition to the landscape, Jared's traveling companion also played a big part. Aleron was an intelligent and witty conversationalist, and Jared learned a lot about his new friend. They spoke of everything under the sun, and Jared told stories of his home, of modern inventions and the differences between this world and his. Even though Aleron was fascinated by his tales, he was also clearly skeptical about some of them, especially when it came to the more complex topics. That was only fair, though, as Jared himself had a hard time believing the fantastic stories of this world, even after having experienced some with his own eyes. Dragons, for example. It didn't matter how often Aleron recited what little information he had about those magnificent beasts, something in Jared resisted fully believing in them. He hoped that he would be able to see one of them for real - although Aleron repeatedly stressed how dangerous they were - in order to be able to fully believe in them.

While Aleron's world was certainly magical, it wasn't all like in the Lord of the Rings. There were, for example, no other humanoid races, as Jared learned. No elves, dwarves or orcs, at least to Aleron's knowledge, which, to be fair, mainly included the Kingdom of Myrthien. Although the Whispering Woods were not technically a part of Myrthien, and were generally considered wilderness, it was clear that they were no part of another nation either. The closest neighboring country to the Whispering Woods would either be the Golden Isles beyond the coast south of Eldoria or the Verdant Lands to the west. According to Aleron, the Verdant Lands couldn't really be considered a nation, too. It was more of a loose confederation of tribal communities, living in the characteristic dense forests of that region.

As Helena had promised, Luminara wasn't difficult to find. The capital of Myrthien was well known and if there was a sign post somewhere, it was sure to point to Luminara.

There was no shortage of smaller and bigger settlements, and about every third or fourth night they were able to sleep in beds. During the other nights, they made camp a bit off the road in order not to attract too much attention. It was one of those nights, about two weeks after they had left Eldoria, that Jared woke up in the middle of the night. Aleron, who was sleeping next to him, was moving in his sleep and occasionally made a sound, which had caused Flicker to gain a bit of distance to the sleeping man.

It was clear to Jared that his friend was dreaming, and he briefly considered waking him up from his nightmare. However, judging by the sounds, Jared began to suspect that Aleron was not having a nightmare but quite the opposite, although the dream seemed to be just as intense.

Quietly, he left the tent, careful not to wake the sleeping mage. Outside, he was greeted by the stars and a clear sky with an almost full moon. The campfire was almost dead, just a few embers and ashes were left. It was a quiet, peaceful night, and Jared decided to go to the nearby lake to drink. Aleron had never once shown a single sign of sexuality before, except for demonstrating a certain uneasiness around nudity and related topics. He never had commented on any woman - or man - in a suggestive way, so Jared had been half- convinced that this whole topic didn't have any relevance to the mage at all.

Of course, for his own reasons, Jared had avoided the subject as well, so, perhaps Aleron thought the same about him. Jared didn't mind that. As magical as this world was, he had yet to encounter a single sign of same-sex attraction. Perhaps this wasn't a thing here, biologically, or perhaps it was socially frowned upon, like in his world's medieval ages - or rural Texas, present day. In any case, there was absolutely no reason to bring that topic up, so he didn't. Not bringing up his sexuality was a sport he was very experienced in for 9 years straight now, after all.

As Jared neared the lake, he was feeling weird and tingly all over. It was not entirely unpleasant, but it stirred a vague memory in Jared. He had felt this feeling once before, but he couldn't quite recall when.

When he bent down to scoop some water into his hand, he stopped before his fingers touched the surface of the lake. The moon was bright, and Jared could see his reflection in the mirror-smooth water quite well. The only problem was that it was not him who was looking back at him.

Of course, there was a strong resemblance, but the details weren't right. His face looked somewhat stronger, his jawline a bit squarer. His hair a bit lighter and styled like the day he first stepped out of the mirror. On his chin, there was a short well-groomed beard even though he had shaved just last morning. It wasn't just his face, though. As he looked down on himself, he looked fitter than he should, as if he was visiting a gym regularly. In fact, the definition of muscle on his torso increased further, just as he was watching. Suddenly, the wonder was replaced by fear. He had felt that way before, and now he remembered when. It had been during his first visit to Aleron's world, when his body was 'destabilizing' as Aleron had put it. Given, the feeling had been stronger then, but it was definitely the same. And now, his body was changing again, and he was weeks of travel from the magic mirror.

Half-panicking, he sprinted back to the tent, not caring about being quiet anymore. Perhaps Aleron knew what to do! He ducked into the entrance and called out to the mage.

"Aleron, wake up!"

Almost immediately, the apprentice jolted awake. "Jared? What is wrong?"

"I... don't know, it's me. Look at me!"

After a few words of encouragement, Flicker began burning brighter, allowing them to see in the tent as well. Aleron looked at the half-naked Jared critically for a few moments before asking: "Okay... what am I looking for?"

"Can't you see? I'm..." However, as Jared looked down on himself, everything was fine again. He was looking at his plain old self, just as he should look like. The tingling feeling was gone, too.

"Oh." Jared felt incredibly stupid all of a sudden. "I... must have been imagining things."

[...]

If you liked the teaser, be sure to give the whole thing a read :)

Let me close with another whole-hearted Thank You for your continued interest!

Stay awesome!

And here, as promised, a peek at the creative complexity of the story:

#male transformation #muscle transformation #romance #not a story

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kikovanitysimmer · 1 year ago

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stony hairs 🌸

hey, beauties! Please enjoy this new content and tell me what think below!

333 - stay creative

This includes:

3 hairs in hair (14 swatches)

Disallowed for Random

Custom Thumbnail

Feminine & Masculine

Teen - Elder

YOU MAY NOT SHARE MY CONTENT

You may not recolor or use any part of these items to make your own cc.

Disallowed for Random

Custom Thumbnail

Feminine & Masculine

YA - Elder

Texture hand drawn

DOWNLOAD

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charleslee-valentine · 6 months ago

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The Lost Boys name etymology:

As the leader of the group, we’ll start with David. The name David means ‘lover.’ His approach to vampirism is somewhat romantic. The ritual and the wine mixed with blood, takes on an erotic edge for example. Their lips touching the same bottle and the exchanging of fluids, and the haze that follows. His role as the leader could be violent given his power, or indifferent like Max’s way of running things- but he chooses to genuinely savor each member of his little pack. The tears he sheds for Marko are shed with love. The words he whispers to Michael, conscious or not, are endearing and soothing. Whether these bonds are more than platonic to him, or even approached in an acceptable way, he still has loving and sharing that love deeply in his nature, amplified by his powers.

Following him is Dwayne. Dwayne can mean ‘dark.’ Not just referring to his hair among the group obviously, his name could give a tiny glimpse into his character. Being less than a main character his screen time and thus his analytical depth is limited, but something about Dwayne is he can go from smiling with the group, to taking on a very stoic or cold expression fast. The ‘darkness’ inside Dwayne could be festering more than the other boys and making the whole -slightly irritating but mostly harmless teenager facade- a lot harder to keep up for him. Notable especially around Max is that stoniness. Part of his depth, it seems, is distrust for anyone outside of his boys, even his own sire. Dwayne’s edge (and weakness, actually) is his quickness to hold those dark and bitter feelings.

Marko involves some mythology to understand his meaning. The name itself stands for ‘dedicated to Mars,’ and Mars is the God of a few things, prominently war and feral nature. What this means for Marko is possibly strength and power. Of course, he is the smallest and that’s why he’s picked off first, but had the fight been between an awake Marko instead, his name hints at him possibly being the most brutal of the pack. It would make sense, that smaller stature equates to speed, in addition to the heightened vampire powers. Marko probably strikes like a feral animal. His tendency to drift to David and, in the words of Alex Winter himself, serve as something of a lap dog to him, is also possibly because of this nature. The idea being that he sacrificed some of his humanity to the brutality of vampirism and turns to David like a handler of sorts.

Finally is Paul. Maybe unexpectedly, the name means ‘humble.’ Where this personality trait can most prominently be seen is in Paul’s treatment of Star, Michael, and Laddie. He seems to be the only one to empathize with how unsettling vampirism can be and offers gentleness to each, at least in the novelization. There are also still distinctly human traits to him like his substance use, his more enthusiastic expressions, and turning on the radio, which he initiated out of the group. Even refraining from harassing (though affectionately, as we know from the deleted scene) Maria the video store worker. It seems that Paul uses being a vampire to intimidate humans and half vampires much less than the others. This makes him a branch towards humanity. Where he loses his humbleness is when he dies. He takes the time to brag about the stupidity of the Frogs and it costs him time. In his grief he gave up a trait that was so woven into him, and thus became reckless enough that he gets killed.

That’s the case with all of the boys really. Their rage and grief over Marko’s death meant letting those qualities either amplify or disappear to the point of losing themselves, and then losing the fight. In Dwayne’s case, he embraced the violence in himself and targeted Sam even when he knew it wasn’t safe because of Michael’s proximity. The ‘dark’ quality of him took over the common sense. As for David, he trusted in Michael so blindly that he was still trying to coerce him to their side. Even after Marko was gone and now the boys were dropping like flies, it was too hard for him to just stop loving someone. It only becomes clear too late, and then Michael has the upper hand and David’s the one dying.

#tlb 1987 #the lost boys #david tlb #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #paul tlb #analysis

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sordidmusings · 11 months ago

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A Coronary Tale - Chapter 1 (Sanji x Reader)

Chapter Summary: You have been hiding away in The Wood, biding your time with the company of your three dear ravens. Fearing those who could find you should you leave your new home, you settled yourself deeply in with the trees and rocks and river, building a quiet routine. Unfortunately, you were wrong to expect no one else to enter the abandoned woods.

Themes and tropes: slow burn for her/lit fuze for him, hidden identities, witchcraft, curses, political pit of vipers, lost royalty, witch hunts, nonverbal gestures of love

A/N: Howdy doodie I finally done did this 😩 My addition to @fanaticsnail's Storyteller collab with the tale of The Three Ravens! I am shuffling stuff around quite a bit and I really hope that you all enjoy my changes and additions! What we have here is an absolute train wreck of a meet cute so that's a start lol The title is a reference to one of the songs I had in mind writing this and definitely the main one with lyrics, A Coronary Tale by Dana Sipos

@fanaticsnail also gifted me the mood board

Wordcount: ~5.2k

Warnings: fem!reader, bit of blood, descriptions of injury but no gore, you're like a little feral maybe, Sanji's kinda into that too at least

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Another twig snapped and your breathing stopped. Every nerve threading through your body pulled your mind from one place to the next: under the skin of your palms, scraping against rough bark; in the balls of your feet, throbbing from their recent pounding at the ground; in the depths of your lungs, burning for oxygen but turned still as stone in fear. Mostly, though, your mind lived in your ears, desperately sifting through the forest ambience and calling ravens for clues of your hunter.

Enough moments passed to release your lungs from their stalling and you began planning your next steps. Your burrow was far but that was good; you had more time to make sure he couldn’t track you there. You had been leading him East, away from your home, since he’d chased you across the river. The last you’d heard of him was due Northeast of you. If you headed exactly opposite him, you’d be back at your river, able to follow it down to your stuff and scramble back to your hide.

The weight of the risk settled down on you and kept your body from following through with your plan. What if he circled back to find your trail again? What if he was waiting for you at the river, knowing you’d likely collect your things?

You shoved your forehead into the scabbed bark of the great oak that hid you. The calming breath you hissed out held the hint of a whine and you cursed yourself further for the noise. Each moment he was more likely to turn back. Each moment he was closer to finding you.

Scrunching your face in a snarl towards your fear, you shoved yourself off the tree and ran westward.

Traversing the Wood was second nature to you by now, but you’d only flown through it with such great speed one time before. You moved much more like a fleeing elk than the panicked rabbit you were then, even with your fright measuring close to that of your memory. Your eyes and body knew the trappings of the woods before your mind could even name them; thorny vines were ducked, wayward branches were parried, felled trees were vaulted. Even your long dress wasn’t a hindrance; you simply gathered the skirts high and tight to free your legs and keep the cloth from stretching branches. The only thing slowing your race home was your adrenaline beginning to weaken beneath the force of your exhaustion.

You burst forth from the Wood’s edge, scattering leaves and dirt and noise in your bid for speed over stealth. You could see the river close now, only a stretch of stony shore between you and safety. Not a single stride shortened despite the shrieking of your muscles or the begging of your lungs. You were beginning to boil in the heat of your blood pumping in your hands, feet, and head, but you would not slow, not even with the new glare of the sun making the air feel even more hostile. Your flight would continue as long as the flutters and caws of the ravens urged you on.

“Wait!”

You shrieked in response and slid right into the swirling current before you. Still furious and frigid with late spring melt, the river overwhelmed you, forcing a gasp from you at the shock to your system. Water flooded into your open mouth and nose, choking you as you spun until up was left, down, and sideways. Despite flailing for a chance at breath and life, your mind kept screaming, West, west, that came from the west!

Your saturated dress sunk you deeper in the toiling water. It gave the chaotic current more purchase to rip and tug you in every direction, bouncing your limbs off all the river’s hidden weapons. Rocks tripped your sandaled feet at every attempt to find footing and thudded against your shins and arms with each turn in the water. Skeletal branches from long submerged trees scraped at you and grabbed at your skirts. Each new hold on the cloth only ended with another old seam ripping and releasing you back to the whims of the river.

Reigning in your sense, you curled into a ball to keep your feet from shoving beneath a rock, trapping you, and to protect your head from smashing in on any of the great boulders that lurked under the water's surface. Just when your world was fuzzing away at the edges, one of those boulders found you and punched the last bubbles of air straight from your lungs.

Before the current could take you further, you used the last of your strength to spin and scrabble at the rough stone’s surface. The moment you got a grip you summoned every ounce of life in you and heaved.

With a crouping cough you broke the surface of the water. Great lungfuls of cold water scraped their way out of you. Through your heaving and gasping you drug your upper body to splay across the sun baked stone. It burned into your cheek and you couldn’t help but be thankful for the distraction from your raw throat and skinned fingertips. Everything but that sensation began to swirl and drift away into a distant fog.

Within that fog was a warm embrace. It wormed around your chest and lifted you away from the grounding heat under your cheek. You whimpered, agitating your tender throat, but couldn’t bring yourself to do anything further to protest. Sweet shushing soothed your mind, quickly replacing the comfort of your stone and covering the distant cawing. As you floated away, the steady rhythm of each hush set your sore lungs to breathe in soft waves.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

The afternoon sun pierced right through your eyes the moment you opened them. Wincing them back shut, you changed your goal to taking stock of your injuries. Your whole body was throbbing, muddling the deeper hurts in a constant protest that sounded with each beat of your heart. Through the cacophony, you heard your right ribs screaming, your throat moaning, and your fingers sobbing.

You flexed your hands slowly to test them. They trembled and ached at your orders but followed through with no great spike in pain. Next, you shifted your torso in a minute rock from side to side. Your ribs punished you spitefully for the motion, but there was no telltale crackle of bone and you were able to keep breathing throughout your shimmying. Lastly, you began sucking in a deep breath to attend to your throat and lungs. You began hacking halfway through, earning more ire from your battered side.

“You’re awake!,” a relieved voice chimed. Gentle fingers traced your face, continually brushing from your skin into your hair. “Thank goodness. You haven’t been out long; it's only been a minute since I pulled you from the river.”

Your heart kick-started again, not caring the least bit about the man’s attempts to seem non-threatening. His claim as your savior did little too; wishing you death and wishing you harm were two separate things. Your pain quieted to a whisper as your awareness shifted to scouring the space around you for information. The ground under you was solid and your palms felt warm stone. The constant swish and rumble of rapids filled the air. I’m still on the riverside. Calm breathing sounded quietly from your left, only a foot beyond the fingers still caressing your face. He’s already recovered.

“You gave me quite the scare there, Bichette. I thought the river took you,” he whispered to you. “I’m so glad I ran back to the river instead of continuing in the woods.” The genuine care and worry in his tone only made your distrust grow. You instead trusted the continued caws from the treeline. His touch disappeared and you heard the grind of his shoes against the rocky ground as he stood up.

“Keep resting, Mademoiselle, I’m just going a short way down the river’s edge to see if I can spot us an easy way back.”

You counted each step he took away from you, every crackle on stone ramping your anticipation higher and higher. The roaring of your blood in your ears grew to match that of the river but his footsteps still cut through. You slowly bent your knees up to remove your sandals and plant your feet on the ground. Despite their exhaustion, your muscles listened when you tensed them. Your count was nearly there. Thirty! You flung yourself onto hands and knees then bolted.

“Stop! Please!”

You were much slower than before, having to drag the weight of your water-logged clothes, half-drowned body and freshly abused skeleton with you. Your lungs couldn’t keep up with even the diminished speed of your strides and you had to fight with each breath not to cough, yet the urgent calls of the ravens circling you pushed you on. The man’s thumping steps were quickly catching up, but you were almost at the treeline.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, chérie, please stop,” he tried again, begging through panting breaths.

One raven sped ahead of you and landed on a large branch with another loud call. You zeroed in on his choice - an old maple spreading high over its neighbors. Its branches started far above the ground, but that was no problem for you, even now. Your switch from sprint to climb was seamless; one step launching you from between the maple's snaking roots and the next propelling you just that much higher with a bare foot catching deeply against its sturdy bark. Ignored the warnings from your hands, you used knots and lumps for handholds, hauling yourself higher and letting your feet follow the same path. You didn’t let yourself slow until you were well mingled in the smaller branches of the tree, nearly forty-five feet in the air. The way the distance shrunk your pursuer gave you a small bit of comfort.

“I’d climb up there but you’d just jump out, wouldn’t you?” he called up to you.

As if to prove his point, you widened your stance and bent low, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. The three ravens flapped their wings in threat of flight. It was all mostly for show; your body was at the end of its rope.

“Ah, Bichette, what has you so scared?” he asked, voice and eyes mourning.

You bared your teeth at him and hoped that he was too far to see your watery eyes. The aches of your body were becoming too much; your bruised ribs stunted every breath, your flayed hands trembled and bled, your scraped toes weren’t far behind their damaged state, your abused throat burned at every scrape of air in and out, and your shaken head, as well as all below it, thudded with pain. The worst of your worries though was the wooziness creeping in on the edges of your mind in the wake of your adrenaline rush. Also the man below you, wrapped in his absurdly expensive clothes, which were just as soaked as your torn rags.

“You’re a strong one, I’ll give you that.”

You held your shaky snarl. The ravens flapped and cried.

“But even you need food, water, and rest after a chase like that. You nearly drowned,” he pressed, desperately trying to make you see reason. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mademoiselle, I promise.”

You continued to stare down at him with all the ferocity of a caged animal, and he sighed.

“You’re also going to want to get out of those wet clothes. Your laundry on the shore should be dried by now and I dropped my food there as well. There’s plenty to share. I can help you back to go get it,” he persuaded. “I’d go get it myself, but I don’t want you to disappear.”

You’d hold my clothes hostage to find me again, you grumbled internally. The three ravens stilled and took their time looking down at the man. After their analyzing, they took off, leaving you feeling truly cornered and alone. The man saw your face crumble as you watched them go and he ached for your sorrow.

“Well, neither of us are going anywhere, so-” he blew out a long breath and looked down at the tree’s base “-might as well get to know each other.” He found a spot he deemed worthy and settled into the cradle between two large swells of roots. He craned his head back to check on you and found you still staring down at him. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your teary glare to the lost look you sent the birds; both had him wounded.

“I’ll start,” he offered patiently, looking down to his hands fidgeting with his gold rings between his bent knees. “My name’s Sanji.”

He waited a good twenty seconds but received no response. He looked back up and you stared down.

“Can I have your name, chérie?” he pleaded gently.

He was met with more silence.

“Okay,” Sanji relented. “Okay, Mademoiselle, that’s fine. I’ll talk for both of us for now.”

He settled in deeper against the tree, continued his fidgeting, and wished he had his cigarettes.

“I’m a chef; feeding people is my greatest joy,” he started earnestly. “I was sailing the seas, feeding a patchwork crew. Our captain managed to find trouble everywhere he went, dragging us along with him toward his ridiculous dream.”

Sanji paused. You watched as he raked a hand through his shiny blonde hair and attentively took in the way his face softened into a fond smile. Craning further for a better look, you managed to see the sad scrunch in his brows conflicting with the upturn of his lips.

“He was dragging us towards our own foolish dreams, too, though. I want to find the All Blue,” he admitted. He looked up in time to see your incredulous look and the curious tilt of your head. They made him burst out in bright laughter at the dramatic shift in expression from you. You hated how pretty he looked like that.

“Yeah, that’s what I expected; most people think it's a fairytale.” He calmed his chuckles and asserted delicately, as much to himself as to you, “I know it’s out there though. It has to be.”

You fought hard against this man’s charms chipping away at your suspicions. Your complaining injuries helped keep you cautious, even through the strong pull of his placating eyes.

“Our captain would like you. Anyone with your tenacity catches his eye. He’d probably want to add you to his collection,” Sanji joked lightly. “You would fit right in; our navigator and archaeologist always respect a strong woman like themselves. Our musician and engineer are welcoming to new company. Our sniper and doctor might fear you a bit though.” He took a moment to think before looking down and grumbling, “And that damn mosshead would complain, but when isn’t he.”

You were about to start tuning him out, needing to defend yourself from being endeared, when his next words cemented your curiosity to the forefront of your mind.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’m stuck here.”

He sounded so heartbroken. You knew that sound; had heard it leaking from your father and brothers - from your own lips.

“My family-” he spit the word with potent vitriol “-found a use for me. Pulled me back here with a threat against my real family.”

You diligently tried to see the emotions in his face, but he kept it firmly turned from you, hiding away. You cursed him for adding a sad ache to your chest as if you didn’t already have enough pains. Looking again at his fine clothes, you began to wonder if they felt more like a trap than a trophy to him. Sanji turned back up to you and his heart stuttered at the first glimpses of compassion on your face. It made you even more beautiful.

“I-I’m sorry, chérie, I didn’t mean to make this a therapy session.” He chuckled awkwardly at his own foible, frustrated with himself for dumping his emotions on you but happy with the result. You decided with great conflict that his unsure smile was just as pretty as his laugh-scrunched face. He let that smile slide off of him, meeting you instead with a vulnerably relaxed face that looked so intrinsically forlorn. Seeing his bare humanity, you needed no further prompting.

Sanji watched in bewildered awe as you pursed your lips at him and sent him a warbling whistle. Your imitation was perfect; it sounded exactly like a robin greeting the sun.

“What…” he trailed off, still taken aback by the strange but sweet turn. “What does that mean?”

You finally allowed yourself to relax your posture and settled your beaten body to splay across the tree’s limbs. Your legs dangled around a few branches, allowing them some much needed relief, and you laid on your front, making it easier to keep your watchful eyes on the man below you. Bedding your forehead into your forearm, you offered a miniscule smile from tight lips before repeating the birdsong.

“It’s beautiful,” Sanji complimented. “Fitting for such a striking lady.”

You scrunched your nose disapprovingly at him and whistled out a piercing warning call.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed. “I just can’t help myself with-”

Avian shrieks split the air and you shot up to find their source. You easily ignored the whimper the action forced from you, but Sanji struggled to do the same.

“Ma chérie, please be careful-”

You spotted six flapping wings and laughed in bright joy, fully distracting Sanji from his worries. The flying forms looked odd; one had a bulbous blob by its head and the other two had billowing streams of color falling from them. You recognized the streams as cloth as they grew closer, but the final item remained a mystery. That raven landed the easiest, having nothing that would snag on leaves or branches. The other two were having much more trouble.

You giggled again at their hijinx, fully amused by their frustrated crying and hopping and flapping at the edge of the tree. To help them, you began weaving your way out towards them until you were at the limits of the branches’ strength to hold your weight. You reached your arm out as far as it would go, feeling the straining stretch in each joint, but still fell short of bridging the gap between you. The whole time, Sanji was calling up fretful and concerned warnings, which you easily ignored.

Despite your attempts to help, the two raven still just fretted about and progressed no closer to a solution. A shrill whistle cut their actions short and captured their attention. You held up two fingers to them then pointed to the smaller garment. They stayed still and you frowned at them with all the practiced disappointment of a school teacher. You repeated the actions with more gusto, this time finishing the display with a hand waving them toward you. Suddenly getting the memo, both ravens began working the same cloth in your direction, repeating the process of free-shift-snag until it was within your reach.

You grabbed the familiar green cloth and held it in front of you, recognizing an oversized men’s shirt. The ravens continued their work until you were holding a pair of loose beige pants too. You gave the two birds a loving pet and a quick kiss on their bowed heads in thanks. You slinked your way down to about thirty feet from the ground, seeking more open space between the branches to change out of your sopping and torn dress.

Sanji took in the whole exchange with wonder.

“You really are the Witch of the Wood,” he whispered reverently.

Your face twisted with confusion at the title and you rapidly shook your head.

“But your ravens!” he argued. “They all say the Witch has three ravens for familiars - that they help her spy on all who enter this stretch of forest.”

Well… he’s close, you admitted to yourself. You squeezed the excess water out of your ruined skirts (you hoped some would land on his head), removed your freezing underwear, and slid the pants on under your skirts. The top went on next, acting as a cover for you as you squirmed your arms out of the sleeves of your dress. Once that was accomplished, you began shoving the heavy material through the neck of the shirt. The process was frustrating; the wet material clung to you with every move, forcing you to make more and more and agitate your wounds further and further. When you finally managed to get it all out of the shirt, you shoved your arms through their holes and pulled the dress over your head.

Luckily, your quick work left a minimal transfer of moisture from your old outfit to your new one. The relief of mostly dry clothes felt even greater than you imagined, and you took great pleasure in balling the ruined fabric up and tossing it to ricochet its way down the tree, landing next to Sanji with a great plop. Staring at him again, you turned bitter at the reminder of the title he gave you. I am no witch. You wished you aimed for his head.

The deep crimson smears and fingerprints Sanji spotted on your discarded clothes refreshed his worry. He had gotten far too distracted trying to charm you and even more distracted once he saw your smile. Sometimes he regretted his overwhelming soft spot for women. Then he would see another woman and have that thought overwhelmed. C’est la vie.

“Bichette,” he cooed, hoping again to win you by charm, “ma chérie, please let me take you back. We need to get those wounds looked at.”

You looked down your nose at him then pointedly turned away, looking instead to the final raven bearing a gift for you. He was still holding tight to a cloth knot at the top of a parcel, but he had adjusted to rest its weight on the branch below him while he waited for your attention. You grabbed the parcel from him, immediately noting the intricate weave of the fabric beneath your fingers, matching well with the delicate patterns unfolding throughout it. This must belong to the expensive man at the foot of the tree. A shame to get bloody fingerprints on his fineries, you thought with sadistic glee. Serves him right for chasing me through my woods.

Untying the cloth proved easier on your fingers than your wardrobe change, they had turned to a monotonous pounding instead of the sharp alerts of pain sometime during your first challenge. Opening the wrapping revealed two containers of food, a smaller one sat atop the larger. First popping the top option open, you found two perfectly prepared pieces of meat on the bone. They were seared to perfection, browned just so, and smelled of gentle spices, just enough to enhance the natural flavor of the meat. You snapped the container back closed so you could check in the other. This one contained the most mouth-watering curry you’d ever seen or smelled, nestled in a thick pool next to fluffy white rice. You looked back and forth between the food and the man below with a raised brow.

“A quick lunch I whipped up,” Sanji responded to your unspoken question. You rolled your eyes at him, doubtful that anything in this meal could be made quickly. Maybe the rice. You wrote his dismissal off as showboating in a further attempt to woo you.

Having no silverware, you prepped your fingers as best as you could by dabbing them on the rich cloth, licking them to wet any dried blood or dirt, and repeating the process until only the barely there leak of fresh blood remained on your raw fingertips and broken nails. The process had them stinging angrily at you again, leaving you biting desperately on your tongue to hold back whimpers that still pushed through. Thankfully, it didn’t take very long. The river water had rinsed them mostly clean, leaving only the layered mess of blood and the dirt from your climb.

Taking a clump of sticky rice, you scooped up a bit of the fragrant orange curry. The taste was just as divine as the smell and you moaned at the best food you’d had in years. You bit into a piece of the scrumptiously tender meat next, recognizing sea king, and you were yet again reminded of Sanji’s opulence. You had to admit to his good taste though; the meat from this variety of sea king leaned much more towards chicken than fish in both texture and flavor, absorbing the bold mix of spices in the curry perfectly. Judging by the vibrant tint to the meat, he set it in a well-crafted marinade as well. Had he not told you he was a chef before you got the food, you would have never believed this was the work of his own hands.

“At least I know you’re getting a good meal,” Sanji said. You were angered and endeared by his honesty. “I came to The Wood for a break. Before the rumors of the Wretched Witch of the Wood, this land and its river were known for their beauty. I can see why now.” He looked up to you with warm eyes and an affectionate smile. You snubbed your nose at him.

“Before I found you, my plan was to find the calm stretch of river, wade around, then sit and eat where absolutely nothing and no one needs me. I chose the food to bring the memory of some of my friends with me.”

You slowed your ravenous shoveling to stare at what was left of the curry with guilt twisting your gut. If it were just food you were taking, you’d happily rob this rich stranger blind, but memories were a different story. Your gaze roamed your three ravens, earning inquisitive coos from them with your misty eyes. You centered your gaze back on the massacred curry, feeling hot shame smother over you. A gentle beak nudged at your cheek.

Sanji let himself sit in the quiet following his confession. He was glad you slowed down, fearing you’d upset your stomach with a quick and filling meal, but he did have to admit, it warmed his heart how much the messy display reminded him of his captain.

While he had no great time to appreciate the beauty of the scenery before, he found the time now. Trees old and new clustered lovingly around each other in a long stretch, interwoven with blooming hedges of mountain laurel and patches of lacy ferns. Moss hugged the damp places of The Wood, keeping them warm and alive. The earth here was not soft; it was made of packed dirt, rock falls, giant boulders, and wrestling roots, but sweeps of dead leaves did their best to cushion the path of each resident.

The river that had previously felt so threatening and cruel now soothed him with its endlessly running waters. He was mesmerized as his eyes followed the shifts from a shrouding deep blue to frothing white and back again. The cycle felt endless and inevitable, stable and sure, outside the reach of time or the shortfalls of consciousness. It made him small, it made his problems small, and he found peace.

The whisper of rustling feathers broke him from his blissful mindlessness. Sanji turned to see one of your ravens nudging the mound of his tied cloth toward him. The reminder of you made him realize he hadn’t heard a peep from you since he started his zoning. He found you had fully turned your back to him and you were staying statue-still. Now slightly concerned, he reached for the cloth only to stop with a surprised yelp when the raven pecked his hand. It cawed mockingly at him before flying right back to your side.

Reaching cautiously despite the raven’s distance, Sanji grasped his cloth. Again, he looked at your bloodied fingerprints with a clenching heart, but he brushed past it as best as he could and untied the limp fabric. Laying out the cloth, he saw that it held the smaller of his food containers. Opening that, he found the two pieces of meat on the bone untouched. His cheeks ached with the force of his new smile.

“Thank you, ma chérie, you’re very kind,” he called up to you. He shook his head at your lack of response and began munching happily.

Hearing that he had begun his own meal, you were able to stomach the rest of your food.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

The sun had long since bruised the sky, its wounds showing the end of their healing in purples and blues instead of oranges and pinks. Sanji still sat stubbornly and dutifully at his post under your tree. You had succumbed to sleep a while ago, your body much too ravaged and worn to fight the need for rest any longer.

Seeing you’d fallen under, Sanji tried to scale the tree to bring you down and carry you back to get help, but each attempt was swiftly thwarted by stabbing beaks and talons. They first started as more of a threat, tugging at his clothes, but as he got bolder in his attempts so did the ravens. They found their courage to fight him and would not back down. Instead, Sanji backed off fully after a beak opened his hand for first blood and the other two readied their screeching weapons at each of his eyes.

Retreating from them, Sanji took his time to collect you some fresh water from a fast-flowing piece of the river in his rinsed container. He used the clean inside of his cloth to dry the excess from the outside of the sealed container before laying it carefully on the expensive fabric at the base of your tree like an offering. He stood before it and looked at you through the time passing around his frozen stance, wishing he could just decide what was best for you. Your ravens seemed to think it was not him, nor his wishes to take you away. They were adamant that you were best left to rest as the tree cradled you. He supposed this forest was your home, it fit for its pieces to care for you.

Then again, it was the very river of these woods that so readily snatched you up to steal you from the living.

Sanji waited until the sky had grown much darker than the deep blue of his eyes in the waning light to leave you. He feared more for your future than finding his way across the river and out of The Wood in the dark. Before he could tear himself away though, he had to take you in one more time, hoping the vision will last him until the next time he lays eyes on you. He grieved for the state of you; not just your new hurts but your patchy clothes, your frayed hair, your callused hands. He felt especially for the prominent ribs that greeted him when he wrapped his arms around you to free you from the river. His mind toiled with worries and indecision his whole trek back to the castle.

“Oh, Bichette, how am I going to help you?”

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

End Notes: Robins can symbolize renewal, new beginnings, and finding joy as they are one of the first signs of spring. They are also part of the dawn chorus, announcing the sun each morning.

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