#and it's not bc of malice on the creatures part but bc it has no idea how else to cope with horrifying psychological distress day in day ou | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

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"I met you tomorrow" - The Corinthian x GN!Reader

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

A/N: did my best to make it gender-non-specific but if I have missed any detail please do message me!🌺 Also Lovecraft reference bc I love Cthulu Mythos

SUMMARY: You have a recurring nightmare in which a stranger shows up and tells you to wake up. Then one day you run into a weirdly familiar man, who seems to know you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.8k

They say that all faces seen in dreams are faces one had seen before - that a human mind simply cannot invent a new visage. What people foolishly omit while sharing such wisdom is that time does not work the same in the Dream World as it does in the Waking World. Yes, aside from faces past, one might stumble upon a face from the future. Maybe that's what happened to you?

You couldn't quite remember when was the first time you dreamt that nightmare but ever since it has been stuck to you like a thistle to a sweater. At least once a week you'd find yourself back at your secondary school, after hours with a creature of darkness looming in the corner of your eyes. You always run even though each time you looked around the corner or over your shoulder, there was completely nothing. Despite that, you could feel those disgusting tentacles of eldritch malice reaching out to grab you. What happens when the entity catches you - you never knew as you always wake up before it can happen. Not that you would want to find out. The nightmare was always so severe and realistic that you grew to fear the darkness and shadows of the Waking World even if your reason assured you that the shapeless terror was but a figment of your imagination.

There's that strange man in the nightmare - he always tells you to wake up or stand up and fight against the malice that haunts you. He always wears light-coloured clothes and carries a straw Panama hat with him. Despite your utmost terror at the creature reaching out to grab you and pull you into the endless pit of sorrow and fear, the strange man is always relaxed, amused even. You often run into him as he sits in the empty canteen or in one of the deserted classrooms, sipping on a colourful drink with an umbrella. There's a strange feeling of safety and reassurance whenever he's around as if some part of you knew that the formless malice couldn't hurt you while the stranger was there. Sometimes he'd remind you that it was only a dream and you had nothing to fear, while other times he'd have a small chat with you before pulling out something from his jacket and giving it to you: a knife, a gun (even a water gun once), a flare and many others. No matter what manner of weaponry he gifts you, it always works like a charm - the terrible beast of old retreats into its den in the land of misery and you wake up to sunlight crawling into your bedroom.

That night wasn't like any other: you were running through the dull, twisted and deserted corridors of the school. You could hear the slapping and slurping of tentacles slithering across the linoleum floor. Every now and then one of the famished maws would bite loudly at the air, their crooked fangs clicking against one another as if Hell could have its own doorbell. And yet, each time you dared to look over your shoulder, the corridors remained empty. The only sound that echoed throughout the building was your own rushed footsteps.

It was hard to breathe. No matter how deep of a breath you took, your lungs could only inhale a little air like something was constricting your airways. Your chest burned as you panted, never slowing down your maniacal escape even if your legs burned. Tired and with hopelessness gnawing at your heart, you stumbled over your own feet.

But before you could hit the ground, too tired and slow to resume your run from the shapeless demon hunting you, someone caught you. To your own surprise, your eyes were met with a suit jacket in the familiar creamy-beige colour. You looked up only to see the stranger you've grown somehow attached to. He was chewing spearmint gum and smiling at you in a fond yet nonchalant manner.

"It's you," you said quietly as if you couldn't quite believe your own eyes. But truthfully, how could you be surprised? After all, he's always been there - every time you were running from that beast you knew nothing about.

In a joking manner, the man looked down inspecting his body and clothes before looking back at you. "I should hope so," he answered with amusement seeping from his voice.

Gratefully using the support he kindly offered, you stood once again on your own feet. The wet, disgusting slush resounded far away, deep inside the building and surely far away from you. That man... in his presence, the sounds of the nightmare's slithering across the floor didn't strike fear in your heart. There was a strange sensation of illusive safety around him as if the security he provided was merely the product of other creatures' fear of him. As somebody once had elegantly put it: "There's always a bigger fish".

"Who are you, really?" you asked. It was a question you could never quite let go, something that bothered you anytime you were running through those deserted halls. Yes, who could he be? Even more importantly: why was he?

"Take a guess."

"Casper the Friendly Ghost?" Perhaps it was strange to stop by and tell jokes while the shapeless, eldritch terror was still after you but you knew this segment of your nightmare a little too well - the man's presence always happened at the very end of the night terror. The dawn was close and so was the relief it brings you.

The man let out a breathy chuckle. Maybe he didn't find it funny but it surely was entertaining to him in some way. "Quite the contrary, actually. I'm more of a... nightmare if you will."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words. Maybe if he said them with a little more seriousness, you would have been inclined to believe him. There was nothing horrible about the stranger but perhaps that was the most severe weapon of them all: the beautiful colours of a Heliamphora. And yet, staring into the gaping mouth of a lion, you never once felt threatened by its teeth.

"Of course you are a nightmare. You’re a little too alluring to be something good."

The corner of his mouth pulled up in an amused smirk. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Is it working?"

"I don't know, I think you need to indulge me a little more."

"So, what do you propose we do about it?" you diverted the conversation while vaguely pointing at the corridor behind you.

The Corinthian looked over your shoulder for a mere moment, the furrow of his eyebrows disappearing as swiftly as it had appeared. "Shub-Niggurath?" he asked. His voice was slightly raised in confusion as if he never thought of taking any action against the mass of teeth and tentacles. "Nah, I wouldn't mind him. We're not on good terms and he knows exactly how well it went for him the last time he got under my skin."

"Wait, you guys are like colleagues or something? Friends?"

"More like brothers from another mother. The same father though."

There was, however, something else still on your mind. By his slightly raised eyebrows, you could tell he knew but decided to wait instead of coaxing the curiosity out of you.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"Why do we keep meeting here?"

"Truthfully, I find you fascinating." The Corinthian was also painfully bored but confessing that part of his non-existent heart could make you a little too reluctant towards him for his liking: there were many things you and he were yet to do. "I've seen Shub-Niggurath's work and most of the dreamers are too scared to fall asleep ever again. And yet you come back regularly, fighting or running but always refusing to give up. I'm not sure if you're brave or reckless."

"Recklessness requires bravery, doesn't it?"

He stared at you for a moment with a smile dancing across his face. The silence felt enigmatic for you weren't sure what to expect from a man like him but it never once was awkward or tense. "Well, I suppose we'll have to reschedule our little chat," the stranger spoke up finally. "It's time for you to go. Rise and shine, sweetheart."

As all things dreamy and ethereal, the vividness of the school corridors and the man with a Panama hat disappeared when you opened your eyes. Until you dream of them again, they were to remain but a grain of sand on the beach of forgetting - a memory once remembered. Remnants of the terror you've experienced were still leaving your body and mind as you sat up on your bed, panting heavily. Each time you closed your eyes to blink you'd see a passing mirage of the bleak corridors and a shapeless mass of teeth and jointless limbs extending towards you. The small lamp on your bedside table was still on like you left it in the evening. Behind the curtains, the sky was still a beautiful shade of deep blue but stars were no longer brightening the dark firmament - dawn was approaching in hasty strides.

Knowing that the night couldn't offer you any more rest, you got dressed and decided to walk through the sleeping city. There was a certain tranquil melancholy, if not a sense of loneliness, to observing life yet to wake up. For a moment, all those people were as one, no grievances or anger remained in their hearts. Their minds weren't stained with the vapid burden of existence that weighs them down during their waking hours.

"Can't sleep?" you heard someone ask behind you.

You turned around only to see a man you felt you should recognize. He was dressed in a light-coloured suit and wore blackout sunglasses despite the Sun not having risen yet - the sky was becoming lighter over the Eastern horizon. During such early morning hours, the weather is rather vicious, cold and windy, and the man looked to be dressed a little too lightly for such time and circumstances. Despite that, he didn't appear to be cold.

The strange feeling wouldn't leave your thoughts. It was hard to put it into words really - it felt as if you had once known him, in some another time and another place; like you once remembered that you used to remember him as if the memory of him was woven into the dust of your bones. Perhaps it was that strange, subliminal familiarity that rid you of hesitation or reluctance in approaching him.

"I'm afraid of what I might see there," you answered him. It was an eccentricity you had grown used to: you knew there was something terrifying in your dreams but you could never quite recall what it was exactly.

"Oh, I'm sure you're being missed there, sweetheart." It wasn't a complete lie, not really. The Corinthian did miss having you in his own dominion, in the world where he held the most power over you. "I know I would."

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Is it working?"

"I don't know, I think you need to indulge me a little more."

To your best knowledge, the two of you were the only witnesses to the glory of a waking Sun. And in his first act of mercy, the Golden God washes human fears away along with the darkness of the night.

#the sandman fanfic #the sandman imagine #the sandman netflix #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman #the corinthian #the corinthian fanfiction #the corinthian imagine #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian x you #the corinthian fanfic #the sandman fandom #the sandman corinthian #corinthian x reader #corinthian x you #corinthian imagine #corinthian fanfiction

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weareallstardustfallen · 3 years ago

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Minecraft world building is always interesting!! What are your nether worldbuilding ideas? T

well i do Not feel like giving the entire 4k so i will just talk about my thoughts on the history of the nether bc that is the part that i like best of it

so the nether was canonically not always like that; the soul sand valley might have once been "a habitable paradise full of huge, bygone creatures," the ancient debris is the remains of historical netherite mining by piglins, stuff like that. as such, i decided that i wanted to take what we're given in the game, use that to figure out what the original nether was like, and then go from there to the modern nether.

and me and @bananasofthorns were listening to some of the ambiance tracks for the different nether biomes, and we realized that hey, some of these sound very Hm. like, there's a couple in the basalt deltas that sound a little like laughter, or like war drums. and after listening to literally all of the nether ambiance tracks and tossing ideas back and forth and such, i settled on this idea, under the cut because it's Long:

the nether was originally a much more habitable place, with a lot more biodiversity than exists now. originally, there were four intelligent races, not just piglins, and they were loosely settled into the four biomes which existed at the time- the crimson forests, the nether wastes, the basalt deltas, and the soul sand valleys, though they weren't very wasteland-y or soul sand-y at all, so they were probably called something else.

the soul sand valley was home to a bunch of very powerful mages, as well as the massive beasts which became the fossils. they were probably the most able to use magic of all of the societies, and any overworld enchantments which can be found originated in the nether (like the ones on piglin armor) are actually a completely different form of that enchantment derived from ancient enchanted books from this society; soul speed was essentially reverse-engineered from them. the valleys were probably the most utopian of all the biomes at the time, full of many, many different kinds of flora and fauna.

the basalt deltas, on the other hand, were very hostile even then, with practically nothing living there except for the delta warriors. they were very warlike and probably conquerors, and were the ones who built the nether fortresses for military purposes. they spent decades at war with the valley mages, and while they most definitely had access to some pretty powerful magic it was not to their level of artistry.

there was also a society in the nether wastes, which has been next to forgotten. both the biome and the people were caught in the crossfire between the valley mages and the delta warriors and over a very long period of time, their entire civilization pretty much got wiped out. the land itself is still basically barren, and sometimes unstable.

the fourth, of course, was the piglins of the crimson forests. they didn't get involved with the wars, and managed to avoid getting much damage from the massive amount of fighting. they, and the hoglins, are the only mobs who are still around from this period of time.

the war did, of course, come to a catastrophic end in what i'm calling the cataclysm. the delta warriors gained access to very powerful and very volatile magic. what did they do with it? attempt to smite the valley mages off the face of the earth, of course- a little too effectively.

they did manage to totally wipe out the valley mages, which was their goal! they decimated the mages, as well as literally every other living thing in the biome, their own society, and did a lot of Bad Shit to the environment of the nether as a whole.

because the area and the people were so charged with magic already, the mages weren't just completely killed- instead, they were trapped in the newly-created soul sand, half-alive, with their souls only being released upon the sand being burnt. the valleys are now completely devastated, and you can hear the mages whispering or calling in the distance, sometimes enough to lure an unwary traveler to their death, though this isn't out of malice.

the delta warriors, also killed by the cataclysm, became the wither skeletons and skeletons of the nether. those who were in the valley at the time of the cataclysm became the wither skeletons due to the magic of the area; they spend their eternities protecting the fortresses they built. those who weren't there are the normal skeletons, forever attempting to provide reinforcements for a battle which is long since over.

and the piglins? they were adversely affected by the cataclysm, of course, everything was, and their glory days are past. but they're alive, where the other two are not- despite this extinction-level event, they are still continuing on, essentially the same as they were before. and this continues even through the most major thing that would harm the crimson forests after the cataclysm, that being the introduction of the warped forests.

the warped forests were essentially corruption which crept in just after the cataclysm when the environment was still unsettled; it began to slowly expand, eating away at the crimson forests, and it is also very... weird, as far as the biomes go. it's not really hostile, it won't kill you to enter or anything and there's even some helpful stuff there, but... it is Deeply Wrong. the endermen there are numb and expressionless, like they're sleepwalking. they never really react to stimuli other than being looked in the eye, but sometimes they scream in the distance like they're being tortured.

and, bonus, because i'm not sure whether it's piglin legend or reality but i think it's cool:

each of the biomes has an Entity to it, not quite sentient but enough to have intent, like a manifestation of the ones who used to live there. it's not quite a god, not quite real, but it is there and you can feel it, when you step into its domain.

the basalt delta is a conqueror imprisoned, the warrior who lost. the Entity of the deltas is trapped far beneath the surface, but it is still there, angry and vengeful, straining to get out, and sometimes you can hear it laughing, or the distant echo of the drums of war. the basalt delta is angry. the basalt delta hates you. the basalt delta wants you fucking dead.

the soul sand valleys are asleep. it's not quite dead, nothing with so much power and life could just die like that, but it isn't quite there, either. the valleys are a tragedy of unimaginable scale, and there is murmuring in the distance, never quite close enough to make out.

the nether wastes are dead. they are barren, empty, lifeless; nothing really grows and nothing really lives. the wastes died a long time ago, even before the cataclysm- the only trace of it is in the occasional odd noise, and the way the rock shifts and crumbles at random, unsettled by the fighting which reduced it to nothing.

the crimson forests are the only one left as it was- weaker, tired, but still alive and still awake and still free. the crimson forests do not get involved with wars not their own, do not play with the kind of power that can reduce a civilization to dust. the crimson forest, and its residents, are survivors above all. they will still be there, living, and so will the forests.

the warped forest, on the other hand... the warped forest is not of the nether. the warped forest is a foreigner, come slinking into the gaps left behind and slowly gaining ground, bit by bit. if any of the biomes has a mind, it's this one- the warped forests make odd, terrifying sounds, and the endermen are screaming in the distance or wandering like ghosts, and there is something laughing, low and heavy.

best not to stay too long.

#mc ambiance noises are TERRIFYING and i love them #if anyone wants to know which ones inspired certain stuff just ask #minecraft #minecraft lore #minecraft worldbuilding #minecraft nether #rain chatter

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hellonoblesky · 2 years ago

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Did you know that—🫢

Don't get me STARTED on the possible history between these two call me a conspiracy theorist if you want but forget the damn black fire incident I THINK DOTTORE SICCED URSA ON DILUCS DAD. I think that Dottore was annoyed with Crepus (likely because Crepus, now that his son(s) were older, decided that he didn't need to do dealing with the Fatui to protect them anymore), so HE had Ursa go crazy on him

(Also connects to my theory about Ursa and the late God of Time had a connection similar to that of Venti and Dvalin, and after the God of Time died/was killed people forgot that Ursa too is an ancient beast of the people, so they turned their backs on him and met him with anger and violence. So his destructive tendencies towards Mondstadt are because he's pissed that they just. Fucking forgot about him and Venti made no effort to help him patch his image!!!!

Also because in the au where Ursa joins the Fatui at Dottore's request, Dottore gains his favor by approaching him without malice and being like "You're such a fascinating beast :) You pretty silly beast :) You're not scary, are you? You're just sad :(. It's ok, I understand. You don't scare me" (equal parts genuine appreciation for Ursa's capabilities and manipulative ploy) and bc that's like the first genuine affection that this once revered creature has gotten in like. 2k + YEARS. He's like "I would kill and maim and kill if you asked me to. Btw.")

#turtledove answers #LISTEN. LISTEN. Dottore is a #number one pro at manipulating beasts of great power #the doctor and the drake

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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years ago

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Cobra Hybrid! Yukhei/ fighter AU

Warnings: pussy eating, breeding kink, competitive fighting, bl**d, mentions of open wounds, eagle hybrid Xiaojun, scorpion hybrid Hendery, minor mentions of getting high, angst, mentions of near death experiences, fluff bc Xuxi loves u an unhealthy amount

The sky outside of your bedrooms hopper window is scattered with rich hues of deep violet and burgundy, a sight that is too captivating to not sit and admire for at least a moment while your food cools off on your beside table.

You've always been particular about the temperature, needing it hot enough to burn your palms but not the surface of your tongue.

You smile warmly to yourself as you think of Yukhei, the way he can practically scarf anything down no matter the heat. You've had to physically stop him from inhaling piping hot ramen quite a few times, though he never listens. "Its okay, promise!I like when it's hot!"

Stubborn boy.

The colors above seem to dissipate by the second into shades that better suit the nighttime hour, not even a quarter of the sun peeking from below the horizon as the city below continues to buzz with work commutes, or perhaps lovers that are eager to be in the same space their partners occupy.

You sigh ruefully, knowing that it's just your suboncious missing a certain doe eyed, raven haired boy.

It hasn't even been two days since you last saw eachother, the navy blue sweatshirt that he wore over still hanging off the corner of your dresser, the scent of patchouli and cedarwood clinging to the fabric.

Your fingers reach out to undo the latch that keeps your window closed, the cool, dusk air gentle against your cheeks.

You know you shouldn't worry about him, he's with Hendery and Xiaojun and the others and they're all celebrating YangYang's birthday in his uncles house near Shenzhen.

At least that's what his last message said, and truly, you're not one to be overly nosey or obsessive. But the thought of Yukhei, your Yukhei, back in that poisonous red ring with barbarous eyes latched onto his body, eager for his blood to spill across the white floor-

You feel your throat tighten at the thought, eyes closing as you inhale through your nose, the air not as thick with smog this time of year and allowing for at least somewhat of a peace of mind.

You find the juxtaposition to the outside world, and the world that lies below the boutiques and indie music shops and niche cafes, to be sardonically humorous.

It makes sense, strangely, that the evil and greed that people possess would no doubt be thrumming with a life of its own in the hybrid world, even more so than that of the human world, sometimes.

And for hybrids like Yukhei, the ones with a little more strength, a little more aggression once the animal that coexists with their dna is provoked, for a king cobra; merchants practically frothed at the mouth when your boyfriend put himself up for rivalry.

It was the last thing he ever wanted to do, and not just because the clubs usually smelled of dry blood and spit among other noxious substances, or because of the fact that his body felt as if it had been hit by a train every morning when he awoke.

It's because of how you sobbed when you found out. Your eyes and nose raw with the fury in which you had rubbed them, your body shaking. It hurt more than anything, more than a fierce kick to the jaw or a pair of canines ripping into the flesh of his shoulder.

It was agoninzing, almost more so than the fact that he had to do it in order to pay off some stupid, futile debt that he owed.

It was a nefarious fox hybrid who helped him out of an almost brawl at a club downtown during the time he worked there, fixing drinks sometimes, or lending a hand in securing the canvas and apron that was needed for the fighting ring.

It was easy work for him, and he needed the money if he wanted to get through school by even a little, but the people who occupy spaces like that, they weren't too keen on a snake hybrid being allowed in during daytime hours; helping or not.

It was just a bigheaded bull, a new bartender who caught a glimpse of the few iridescent scales that gleamed acrosss the expanse of his shoulder blade, and before he could even smell the unprompted vexation wafting off of the hulking man- he was thrown across the room.

He was nearly impaled on the bar top, nearly. Though the fox jumped in almost too eagerly after the bull busted your boyfriend's top lip open, introducing himself as the owner and kicking the aggressor off of Yukhei after professing his status.

As far as the story goes, the owner was still quite upset at the fact that two bottles of expensive liquor had been busted and wasted in the whole debacle, news to Yukhei since he had been, well, fearing for the safety of his face due to the close proximity of six inch horns.

So, it was lose a decent job and have no other options left as such a reclusive breed, or use his strengths to his advantage.

You shudder everytime you think of the ladder. Nothing prepared you for hearing that from Xiaojun's mouth, for seeing him look so weak, so close to the brink of deterioration. He looked broken.

Your noodles are cold now, and you curse yourself for allowing your thoughts to wander off to a place so unnecessary to revisit.

You're too tired to heat them back up, moving from your window sill to your quaint, welcoming bed. You peel the thick comforter back and nestle yourself into the warmth, grabbing your old (but still functioning) laptop in hopes of finding something new to watch on netflix. You have too much of a habitual personality to start a new t.v. show, but a movie might suffice.

It's hard to focus your attention elsewhere, to not to think of him. He's the type of person that you can't ever get used to seeing upclose, so effortlessly beautiful it's almost painful, an ache in the pit of your chest.

Maybe that's silly to say, but it's not jusy because you're sickeningly in love with him. It's this force that he carries with him, like he's made of pure, raw sunlight.

You close your eyes for a moment, picturing the way his plush lips feel against yours when he smiles into a kiss, noses touching and giggles resonating in his throat as you play with the wild strands of his perpetually fluffy hair.

You think of all the things that make him inherently him. His hands, the way they always seem to be steady and gentle, elegant, despite their size. Even when he caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckles, it's featherlight.

It's in his nature to be so agile, so stealthy in his movements. You sometimes forget he's a snake hybrid at all, his outside appearance similar to a lion shifter, or a wolf.

It's probably the most unobvious thing about him, unless he were to take his clothes off and reveal the miscellaneous littering of scales across his broad back and shoulders.

They're similar to his eyes in the way that they're usually onyx until they glimmer under light, ranging from shades of dazzling silver to veridian. You think of the way he hums in satisfaction everytime you run your fingertips along the surface, eyes captivated with wonder.

You jolt in surprise as your phone rings obnoxiously loud, your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at the prospect of your pleasant thoughts being so rudely interrupted. Your indignation vanishes when you see the caller ID.

Hendery 🦂 is calling...

"Hello?" Your voice is neutral for the most part, the rational side of your mind trying not to panick so suddenly.

That doesn't last long once you hear the troubled pang in the hybrids voice, the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up.

"Hey, uh- I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry to have to- look Yukhei is hurt-" You're sure all the blood in your body has suddenly been drained, stomach twisting as the words fly from Hendery's mouth. "We can't go to the hospital, Yangyang isn't with us and-"

This can't be happening. Not again. Who lied? Did they all lie?

"Is it the same club?" The stillness in your voice is unsettling, though you're pretty sure you might be going into shock at this point. You can't feel your limbs properly.

"Yes." He replies bleakly, and your fingers tremble as they end the call.

It's like you knew, you always know. There's something about being with Yukhei that has given you a sort of second sense, it's like knowing when a step is missing and you're about to trip.

You know you're going well over the speed limit, skin pulled fiercly over your knuckles with the force in which you're gripping the steering wheel. You're only aware you're crying when streaks of warmth cascade down your cheeks and soak into Yukhei's sweatshirt that you threw on before leaving.

You never wanted to be back here, navigating the slim dark streets to find that familiar, seemingly abandoned building with a simple red logo spray painted on the side. It can only be understood by hybrids, humans not able to translate.

The building is tucked so far back behind the city, it makes for an incredibly unpleasant journey, along with an already unpleasant destination. It's a dark corner in a place full of light. It's the door to a shadow world, to the creatures that find comfort in malice and anguish.

You're surprised you've arrived so fast, not even aware of the strange, curious glances you've been getting by passerbys. No doubt wondering what a little human girl is doing in one of the most dangerous, underground parts of the city.

But they can't touch you, not legally anyways. It's forbidden for hybrids to harm humans, and none of them would dare risk exposing their little side show for a taste of a mundane.

It's Xiaojun you spot first, his conspicuous head of nearly white hair sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the darkness of the alleyway. It's only as you approach that you can see he's slumped under the weight of Yukhei, who's figure is akin to a wilting flower.

You feel your stomach lurch, though adrenaline is what drives you to throw yourself out of the car like a madman, leaving the door open and all to run to his side. You share a brief glance with a wide eyed Hendery, gesturing towards the car as your knees scrape fiercly against the pavement.

You almost don't want to look at him completely, gaze set on Xiaojun as you round to the other side and slip yourself underneath Yukhei's heavy arm. You can't, however, ignore the blood that sticks to your skin, nor the scent of it clinging to him. He murmurs your name with a strained cry, your knees wobbling.

It's a complete blur, happening in what you guess is only about two to three minutes. Yukhei slurs his words as you and the blonde haired hybrid hoist him up with all your strength, agonized groans bellowing from his throat while you move him to the back seat.

You help to manuever his long legs into the car, every bruised, wounded, and bloody part of him visible now underneath the light above your heads. It's even worse than before. How can it be worse?

You throw yourself in beside him, Xiaojun slamming the door shut before he sprints to the passengers seat, Hendery hitting the throttle as soon as everyone is secure inside the vehicle.

You turn to your boyfriend, your love. You have to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, terrified to accidentally skim past a laceration. You whisper his name into the darkness, hoping that he'll answer and that he won't disappear before your very eyes.

Getting him inside of their apartment complex isn't easy. And not just because it takes two of you to carry him, his body too weak to do much of anything; it's mostly because carrying a half dead looking hybrid to an elevator isn't really the most optimal option.

Luckily Hendery knows how to pick the lock to the fire escape hatch in the back of the complex, allowing the four of you to somewhat subliminally carry him up two flights of stairs before finally arriving at apartment 236.

Not the essiest thing you've ever done. But none of that matters, nothing matters right now except for him.

"Couch!" Xiaojun yells, Hendery two steps ahead of him, pushing the old coffee table in the center of the livingroom to the far right corner.

Yukhei stammers before you both set him onto the piece of furniture as gently as you can, a choked whimper being the only sound he can make. It's even worse in this light, all the shared meals and nights binge watching movies suddenly lightyears away. Now this room is tainted with the sight of him falling apart.

"What do we do? Oh god, what do we do?" You speak through a broken sob, on your knees next to your boyfriends limp figure, his long limbs hanging off the side of the couch while his head struggles to stay upright.

You don't even realize Hendery has ran off until he is jogging back with a first aid kit that probably won't do any good, not in this situation. He reads the uncertainty and disbelief in your expression, quickly rebuttling.

"Venom, we need his venom," He and Xiaojun share a look that you don't quite understand, but you're too overwhemled to question it right now. "We just need to clean him up first, as best as we can."

He hands you a warm, damp washcloth and you are quick to bring it to Yukhei's face, the only place that isn't too damaged to touch and somewhat tamper with. His swollen eyes struggle to stay open, but once your hand caresses his sweltering cheek, he uses all of the strength he has to mutter your name.

"I'm so- sorry, you don't...you don't under..understand."

You place a gentle finger to his busted lips, pulling back immediately as his eyebrows furrow and he winces, not yet aware of the two others pouring some sort of unfamiliar disinfectant onto the open wounds.

"Shh, not right now. We gotta get you fixed up, okay? It's gonna be alright."

The words are probably more comforting to yourself, though nothing is comfortable at a time like this. Everything is happening so fast, Hendery gently pushing you to the side and whispering something to Yukhei that is inaudible to your human ears.

He nods weakly, and you can't hide your horror nor contain the frightening gasp that escapes your throat when Xiaojun approaches and bares his claws, shoving them into your boyfriends side.

You're frozen in place, time stopping for a an infinite moment as you sit and watch what's unfolding. Hendery muffles Yukhei's agonized shout initially, removing his hand when he realizes that the cobras fangs have been ejected.

He holds a vile up to his mouth, puncturing the top open with the sharp edge of his tooth, allowing the sticky clear venom to drip down into the glass container. You've never seen Yukhei's fangs before, mostly because snake hybrids and cobras alike aren't one to use them unless absolutely necessary.

Life or death.

It happens quick, Xiaojun with a needle inbetween his deft fingers, likely from the inconspicuous looking first aid kit, pulling the venom through the syringe before handing it to Hendery to inject into your boyfriends carotid artery.

His body stiffens as if he's gone into shock, veins protruding from his skin and pulsing like his heart beat has gone past the safe amount of BPM.

And then, he's still, so still it feels like you're getting a glimpse of what it's like to lose him, and you still can't find the strength of the willpower to move.

"He'll be okay, I promise,"

Hendery is by your side in an instant, panting as perspiration drips from his forehead. "He just needs to rest, he's the only type of hybrid who can use his own venom as a healing agent."

It feels like you've stepped into a different dimension, like somehow now is the time that your brain finally begins to over process the fact that none of these boys are human and that monsters really do exist.

They're not the monsters. You're not bothered by their otherworldy state of being in the slightest, but there's something in the way that they speak that makes it seem as though you're missing a vital detail, like a page ripped straight from the spine of a book. A page that could very well determine the entire stories fate.

"Where's Yangyang? And the birthday?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, incredulity in your tone.

He and the blonde haired eagle look guilty beyond belief, hesitancy in their eyes. The anger that boils inside of you, starting from your toes and rising to your ears, pushes you to stand to your feet and move past them to where Yukhei lies.

Theur admittance to whatever the fuck is going on, can come later. You don't trust yourself right now anyways, too angry, too overcome with grief to yell or shout or throw things in the way you wish to.

You sit by his side, and reach out to brush his tousled hair out from in front of his scraped forehead, examining the violet and burgundy hues that blooms from underneath his honey colored skin.

"I love you, I'll always be here."

You whisper, lying your head against the cushion next to his, exhaustion suddenly clouding your brain and allowing you to forget, just for a second, that you almost lost him.

The sunlight burns red from behind your eyelids, last nights events not yet in the forefront of your brain until you hear the low timbre of voices from the other room, haunting images forcing you awake.

You sit up too fast, head pounding from the restless sleep you've endured. You realize you're in someones bed when you kick off a familiar pair of black sheets from your feet, the setting around you like a second home. Yukhei's room. Someone must have carried you here during the night.

You're quicker and more eager than you've ever been in the morning, feet carrying you towsrds the half open door as you practically sprint into the livingroom, expecting to see him lying there as immobile as he was last night; preparing yourself for the worst.

But you don't see anyone on the couch, in fact. It takes you a moment to register that everyone is in the kitchen, huddled around the island. You're too beside yourself to realize that the broad, tan back that's facing you belongs to him, until he turns around.

You don't get a good look at his face, already smashing yourself against his chest with a force that doesn't even budge him. You gasp suddenly, recoiling in fear as you step away, terrified that you've hurt him.

His long arms are still open expectantly, doe eyes glossy as he stares back at you in confusion, your expression as shocked as it is dubious. He's healed. Well, not completely. Your fingers trace over the scabs that have formed where gashes and lacerations once were just hours before.

He pulls you to him again by your elbows, and you look up at him through wet lashes to see that the bruises are no longer a severe shade of purple and blue, only slightly yellow.

It doesn't take many more glances before you're forcing yourself up onto your tippytoes, grasping his cheeks in your palms and pressing your mouth against his.

His arms enclasp you fiercly, nearly making it hard to breathe but you don't care, not at all. Not when he's whole and alive and smells like himself again, not when he's kissing you like it's been years since you've last seen eachother.

When you part you realize that Yangyang and Kun are here, and the confusion that you harbored last night for their actions and secret glances, has you reluctantly pulling away from the embrace of your lover.

You see it now, the fear and worry that colors his expression. All of their expressions. Your eyes are suddenly fierce, fists clenching by your sides as your nails form crescents into the flesh of your palms.

"Someone better tell me what the everliving fuck is going on and why this happened again," You've never been so furious, have never lashed out as anyone as angrily as you are right now.

"A birthday party? Really? That's the excuse you came up with?!" Yukhei hangs his head in shame, knowing that it's in all of their best interest to let you finish. It's only fair.

"And you all knew, every single one of you let him walk into that ring again, every single one of you were okay with letting him die!" Your voice rises an octave, fresh tears now springing from your tired eyes.

"And I know there's something more, you're all shit liars. I just don't know what's going on and I dont know why, I just need to know why?" You sound defeated this time, covering your face in your hands as the cobra cradles your head against his chest.

You're too weak to pull away, too run dry to sob any longer.

Kun is the first to speak.

"His venom, it's-" You can only guess that someone glares at him, Hendery murmuring to his elder to let Yukhei tell you himself.

You finally glance up, meeting the teary eyed gaze of the man you love, who looks as terrified as he does stricken with unidentifiable emotions. He's silent as he deliberates with himself mentally, looking over his shoulder and nodding to the group in a silent understanding, before gently guiding you towards his room.

Venom, money, high.

These words echo in your brain as you sit across from Yukhei on his bed, his eyes too scared to meet yours as he finally finishes his explanation.

It's the whole hearted truth, as painful as it is to admit to the one person in this world who he so desperately wants to protect. But it had to be done, for your sake and for his.

"So the drinks you were making, they were filled with your venom...and people drank it willingly?"

You're still struggling to understand, no anger or shame laced in your voice as he expected, though it still doesn't lighten the indescribable weight that sits on his chest. He swallows.

"It's like...it's like a high for some people, or like being drunk but to an extreme, euphoric level," He anxiously picks at the skin beside his nail beds.

"The fox knew he could profit off of it, but it's still taboo. He was my employer and could easily pass me off as a crooked cobra hybrid who was sneaking my venom into drinks for secret cash. So he told me if I wanted to stop, for good, I had the chance to get my get out of jail free card during the upcoming fight,"

Your heart feels as if it might rip through your shirt, the pain and obvious regret in his voice tangible. It all makes since bow, though, in hindsight. Though you still don't understand why the others were so involved.

As if he read your mind, he continues.

"And Hendery, Xiaojun...they were just protecting me. They'd wait and make sure that I left the club everynight unharmed, and they knew the cost of confronting the fox. Hendery's venom as a scorpion is lethal, so he couldn't get involved for obvious reasons. They weren't happy or okay with any of it, I just didn't have a choice."

You suddenly feel like the guilty one now, chest heavy as the pieces of the gigantic, horrifying, and confusing puzzle finally come together.

It's alot to take it, more than you were prepared for. And your anger isn't directed at them anymore, in fact wvery ounce of fire that had been raging inside of you burns at the idea of that stupid fucking fox doing all of this for cash.

Sensing that he's still worried you're upset, you reach out to grab his fidgeting hands, his chin lifting only slightly as to peer at you through his dark lashes.

When you crawl over to him and on his lap, he looks dumbfounded. Even more so as you kiss him gently, softer than a rose petal as your thumb caresses the apple of his cheek.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, I'm so so sorry." Tears slip past your waterline before you can contain them and he kisses them away just as quickly, voice incredulous.

"Baby no, don't apologize, ever," He lifts your face to his, eyes wide and full of reverie. "I'm okay, I'm okay because you were there and I promise with my entire heart and soul to never get wrapped up in that shit ever again, ever."

You kiss him again, the taste of tears not bothering either of you. You just need to feel him, to remind yourself that he's not going anywhere. You can't shake the thought of how he looked last night.

"I almost lost you, Yukhei you...I thought I'd wake up and you'd be gone and I'd never get to kiss you again or hear your laugh," He's crying now, too, silently as he closes his eyes and you bury your face against his neck. His hands cradle you as if he has the entire world in his grasp.

"Shh I'm here, m'not going anywhere baby. I'll stay forever with you."

And he means it to his very core, feels it in his bones, solidifed as you kiss him again and again like he suplies the air in your lungs. You're both so in love with every fiber of your being, so enraptured in the feeling of one another.

When you push at his chest to silently ask him to lie down, he's quick to assert who's taking care of who, eagerly gripping your soft waist and letting your back fall against his mattress.

"My sweet angel," You arch into his touch as his plush mouth nibbles the soft skin underneath your jaw, traveling across the expanse of your throat and to the sides of your neck. "Let me make you feel good, been so patient with me."

It dawns om him that you're wearing his hoodie and he swears his heart throbs in his chest, quick fingers pulling the garment over your head and tossing it to the side with your shirt underneath, before continuing his descent.

He's shamless in the way he cups your breasts in his wide palms, gazing up at you through slitted eyes as his pink tongue flicks over one of the hardening buds. You reach out to touch any part of him you can, whining as he repeats the action on the opposite breast.

He wanders even further down, across every inch of your tummy, humming all the while in satisfaction at how sweet you smell between your legs, at how needily you whine for him.

He's all too excited now, pulling the shorts from your body with a force that should've ripped them in half, kissing your inner thighs sweetly but not as earnestly as he'd like. He's just too focused on the enticing sight of your glistening sex, mouth practically watering.

He doesn't wait for you to prepare yourself, digging in immediately. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in the strands as his mouth encloses around your throbbing clit, suckling before he licks a broad stripe over your folds.

"Yu-yukhei...oh!" Your thighs threaten to close around his head but he holds them open with an inescapable grip, endulging himself wholeheartedly as he slurps and licks at every drop of juice that flows from you.

It's a maddening sort of pleasure, your toes curling and belly tightening. His nose is pressed against your pubic mound as he keeps his mouth over your center, wriggling his head back and forth as his tongue flicks over your clit at an inhuman pace.

"Ah, I can't- oh fuck." You're blabbering incoherently, though it only drives him further. He relishes in the way you're writhing underneath him, the way you're so wet just for him and him only.

"Want you to cum on my tongue, can you do that for me?"

All you can do is cry out in response, bucking your hips against his mouth as he prods at your entrance with the tip of his tongue. You're so close it's humiliating, but he's elated, already sensing your orgasm in the way your walls throb and pulse with every lick to your bud.

The sounds are so nasty, so lewd in the way your wetness combined with his saliva is so audible in the small room.

You cum without a warning, not being able to speak or do much of anything except jerk and twitch as he keeps his mouth on you, unrelenting in his determination to taste your release.

You whimper.

"Fuck me, please Xuxi p-please."

You beg softly, with half lidded eyes and he reluctantly lifts himself from your center with dark yet gentle eyes, mouth saturated in your juices. He can't resist you.

He kisses you like this, and you don't complain one bit. Not when he's got his pants down faster than you can blink, gripping his thick shaft and rubbing the ruby hued tip of his cock against your sensitive clit.

"Want me to fill you up, huh? Want me to make you mine forever and ever."

You're unable to verbally respond when he pushes himself in, not even an ounce of friction due to a mixture of your cum and his spit coating your walls as well as the inside of your thighs. He buries himself to the hilt, your hands on his broad back.

His pace is determined but not frantic, body held up by his forearms so he can continue to kiss you while his dick spears into you. Your lips are one of his favorite parts about you, so soft, the perfect size to slot right against his.

"Yes Xuxi, want you to give me all your cum, pretty p-please."

He supresses a hiss, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you wrap your thighs around his middle, heels pressing into his lower back.

"Mm, gonna give you my babies," He doesn't miss the way your walls flutter around him, as he pulls himself almost all the way out before sheathing himself inside of you once more. "Want you to be leaking with my cum for a w-whole week."

You whimper, and it drives him mad. His hips are agile and precise as he fucks into you now, controlled and skilled. He knows exactly where your sweet spot is, exactly what has you clinging onto him for dear life.

"You're s-so big, missed your dick, missed you."

He's the one whining now, scattering wet kisses under your jaw, nibbling your earlobe. It's like no other sensation, being together like this. You can't tell where he ends and you begin, all you can do is feel.

"You like my big dick, hmm? Want me to stuff that pretty pussy full." His words are filthy, but his candence is sweet like honey, earnest in the way his voice trembles. He's just as high on pleasure as you are.

"Please, please, yes."

His thrusts become harsher in the way he fucks back into you, reaching past your cervix. Your fingers bury themselves into the dark strands of his hair as quiet whimpers bubble from your throat, senses overwhelmed with Yukhei Yukhei Yukhei.

It doesn't help that he's so vocal in your ear, the deep timber of his groans sending chills down your spine and causing your belly to fill with heat, spreading throughout your limbs like wildfire.

It's not just fucking, this feels like what making love really is. It's a reunion in more ways than one, a solidification of your bond. You wish it could last forever, the scent of his skin, the softness of it. You can feel every muscle in his body strained with the strength he uses to please you, to reach depths that have your toes curling.

When you turn your head to kiss the skin just below his ear, his hips falter.

"Oooooh, shit baby m'gonna cum, fuck."

You pull his face from your shoulder to smash his lips against yours, cradling his face as he cups the back of your neck. His tongue slips inside your mouth, and you purposely squeeze your walls around his length.

He mewls, cursing under his breath. "Cum for me, please Yukhei," He's looking right into your eyes, lips kiss bitten, skin flushed. "Make sure you give me every last drop."

He's done for, hair sticking to his forehead, a broken groan straining to leave his throat as he pushes himself as deep as possible, both of you watching each others expression in the process.

"I love you I love you I love you." He chants, while spurts of his cum paint your walls white. You unravel when you look down between your bodies for a fleeting moment, catching a glimpse of the amount he's released as he disappears inside of you over and over again.

He kisses your face as you struggle to grasp onto him, the pleasure too much to handle, physically and emotionally. It has tears springing from your eyes, nails digging into his biceps as he continues to fuck you through it.

"I love you too, I love you so much." You finally reply, finding the strength to speak no matter how slurred and sleepy it might sound.

He smiles warmly with irrevocable adoration, eyes crinkling at the corners. He strokes your cheek with the soft pad of his thumb, leaning down to peck your nose, and then your forehead, and then your eyelids.

"You have my entire heart," He professes. "I'll always be here."

"Guess I saw that cumming."

Xiajun glares at Hendery.

237 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 5 years ago

Note

So if you want can you write a continuation of that AU where NHS dies and NMJ loses it? Anything concerning that AU Bc on one hand I’m curious af about what would happen when NHS is brought back and how everyone is so happy that he’s back bc know NMJ would maybe calm down a little but on the other I really want to know LXC thoughts about this whole disaster?

part 1 here

Lan Xichen waited outside the Cloud Recesses, Shuoyue placed on his lap.

His home was in an uproar: the stories of what had happened in Lanling had come first, chilling the bone, and while they were still trying to decide if they believed it, news came that the Nie army, now swollen with cultivators desperate to use martial valor to escape destruction, was headed in the direction of Gusu. Lan Xichen had asked his uncle and brother to arrange the evacuation of both people and books, as many as possible – they at least had some practice after what had happened with the Wen sect, and sadly, for all of Lan Wangji’s strenuous effort, there were also fewer books to think of.

As for himself, he went to the small clearing down the mountain where visitors always arrived, especially those from Qinghe, and there he sat and waited.

Lan Xichen’s cultivation was extremely high; he did not flatter himself in thinking that in the cultivation world, the number of people who could rival him could be counted on one hand.

Nie Mingjue was the same.

If Nie Mingjue came – no. Lan Xichen should not cloud his mind with illusions. The Nie sect’s army was on its way; the question was not if Nie Mingjue was coming, it was when – and what would happen once he arrived.

If they would fight, and if they did, who would win, and what would happen next.

Lan Xichen still found the entire thing hard to believe. That Nie Mingjue would do such a terrible thing, that he would kill so many people without warning or declaration, without giving them a fair chance to fight back…it went against everything he knew of the man.

Nie Mingjue was not only his sworn brother, but his friend of many years – for the entire time he had known him, Nie Mingjue had always been well-meaning and well-intentioned, upright and righteous, even sometimes too strict with it, unwilling to give allowances for weakness. He’d always wanted to do the right thing. Even when they’d met as children, brought along to observe the sect leaders’ talks during the Discussion Conferences and bonding over the boredom of it, he had always thought first of what he should do, of what was right. Both for himself, and for his younger brother.

They’d bonded over that, too: Lan Xichen had Wangji, and Nie Mingjue had Huaisang.

He didn’t have Huaisang any longer.

That didn’t seem real, either.

Little Huaisang, with his fans and his laziness, his curving eyes as he smiled and the coquettish way he whined about the burden of having to practice his saber – gone, now. Gone forever.

Lan Xichen might have understood it if he’d died during the war. But to have it happen now, now, when they were meant to be at peace…

He still had the first letter he’d received informing him of the tragedy. It was in Jin Guangyao’s handwriting, each line thick with devastation: an accident, he’d said. Nie Huaisang had gotten lost on a night-hunt, ended up somewhere dangerous, an area that unexpectedly contained fearsome creatures that no one had expected to be there, and with his low cultivation…Jin Guangyao had blamed himself for not keeping a closer watch on him, for having allowed him to come along, for all of it, even though it seemed quite clear from the letter that he could not truly be held accountable.

You must tell me how I can break this news to da-ge, Jin Guangyao had written. You do not know how it pains me to think of what this will do to him. He will blame me, as I blame myself – I would not mind it even if he beat me; it would help assuage the pain I feel at what has come to pass on my watch. But you know that da-ge has always been suspicious of me beyond all reason, and there are those who ascribe malice to all of my actions: how can I convince him that this result was not something I desired?

Lan Xichen’s first instinct had been to volunteer to break the news to Nie Mingjue himself. It would be painful, seeing his friend’s heart break – he’d seen so many hearts break during the war, his own not least of all at hearing of his father’s death; there were widows and widowers, children losing their parents before their time and white-haired parents burying their black-haired children, brothers and sisters all…this would have been the worst of the lot. But surely it would be better coming from him than any other?

Surely he would be able to calm Nie Mingjue and offer comfort to his grief; yes, better it be him than yet another pointless fight between his two sworn brothers.

There was a draft letter on his desk, half-written, that told Jin Guangyao to wait for him, that he would come, that he would stand by his side so that he wouldn’t have to explain it alone –

He’d never had a chance to finish it.

Who knew how he’d found out, but Nie Mingjue had come to Lanling to collect his brother’s body the very next day. He hadn’t said anything, ignoring greetings and condolences alike, disregarding all offers for him to rest or eat something to recover his strength; he merely picked up Nie Huaisang’s corpse from the coffin it had been tentatively laid to rest in and walked right back out again.

One report claimed that he hadn’t said a word the whole time.

Perhaps there had been another letter, half-written just like his own, on Jin Guangyao’s desk: laying out his worry at Nie Mingjue’s unusual silence, expressing concern for Nie Mingjue’s health – especially given his temperament, which had lately been worsening – and asking for advice…

Lan Xichen would never know, now. Jin Guangyao’s desk at Lanling was very likely ashes, along with any letter that it might have contained – Jin Guangyao himself, too, was likely…

There was a disturbance in the air, and Lan Xichen raised his head.

A single figure approached, the familiar shape unmistakable.

Alone.

Lan Xichen’s fingers tightened for a moment, and then released.

Lan Xichen waited until Nie Mingjue had jumped down from his saber, Baxia obediently returning to his back – his back, not his hand, which he supposed was a good sign, just as coming without his army was a good sign. It meant that there was still room to talk.

Nie Mingjue didn’t do anything after that, though: he did not greet Lan Xichen at all, a minor breach of etiquette that Lan Xichen would have been amused by if he hadn’t heard of far worse breaches by Nie Mingjue lately, not merely of etiquette but even of basic morality, of righteousness itself, of the laws of war that Nie Mingjue had once valued so highly…

Eventually, the silence became too much, and so Lan Xichen spoke first. “You took longer to come here than I expected.”

The stories said that anyone who could have had anything to do with Nie Huaisang’s death was being hunted – anyone who benefited, anyone who stood by and did nothing, anyone related in any way at all. Most certainly anyone who was involved in setting it up.

By that standard, Nie Mingjue should have come here much faster.

After all, it had been Lan Xichen who had urged Nie Huaisang to visit Lanling, knowing that Jin Guangyao wanted to see him, knowing, too, that his sworn brother hoped to use his kindness towards the little brother as a means of appeasing the elder; it was he who had convinced Nie Mingjue to allow the visit, he who paved the path that had led to Nie Huaisang’s dead end –

If Nie Huaisang had truly been murdered, and Jin Guangyao in fact the culprit, the way the stories said – the stories that must be wrong – then the very next one to blame would be Lan Xichen himself.

“We were friends,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen winced involuntarily at the inclusion of the word that meant that it was something that had been in the past, and was no longer.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t angry in the way Lan Xichen would have found familiar: rage that consumed him, yelling and harsh gestures, even breaking things around him. His voice was heavy as stone and just as indifferent, and looking into his eyes – if Lan Xichen couldn’t sense his friend’s overwhelming yang energy, same as it ever was, he might have thought that it was Nie Mingjue who had died instead of Nie Huaisang.

“How sure are you?” Lan Xichen asked, rather than deal with that – with what that meant. With the suggestion that Nie Mingjue would have preferred to spare him, for their past friendship, but that in the end he had decided that he couldn’t.

With the suggestion that it was, in fact, still Nie Mingjue underneath there: the old familiar one, who argued long and loud that principle should be the most important thing – more than friendship, more than mercy, more than anything, except maybe the overriding principles of filial duty and familial responsibility.

It wasn’t some demon who had grown out of a broken heart, some possession or afflicted temperament; it wasn’t even a qi deviation that twisted a good man’s character into something else.

It was Nie Mingjue, who had once been his friend.

“How sure are you that it was him that caused it?” he asked again. It was pointless to argue in Jin Guangyao’s defense one final time, futile, his friend was dead, as dead as Nie Huaisang was, but perhaps it could help him rescue this friend from his madness – or rescue Lan Xichen and his sect from the man’s blade. Nie Mingjue’s paranoia had been worsening recently, along with his temperament, but Lan Xichen had never dreamed it would end up like this. “That it was – that it was intentional, malicious? They say you never asked for an explanation, so how can you be certain that –”

“I am sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “There can be no doubt. Men lie. Sabers don’t.”

Lan Xichen frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Huaisang had his saber with him when died,” Nie Mingjue said - explaining, patient, the way he was in the best of times. He didn’t seem like the insane killer that had destroyed an entire sect, and it certainly didn’t seem as though he were about to try to stab him with Baxia.

Lan Xichen might have preferred that. He didn’t know what to do with a Nie Mingjue as indifferent as the dead.

“I told you long ago that the Nie sect buries sabers, not people, and I told you why,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I told you about the saber spirits, how they long to destroy evil…Huaisang was a terrible cultivator, but he’s still a Nie, he still has a golden core, and his saber has a spirit, however weak, that is capable of desiring vengeance. Why would I bother asking a nest of snakes to lie to me? His saber knew what his final moments were like.”

Lan Xichen shuddered, realizing what that meant. “You – saw them?”

“I did.”

“You saw Huaisang die,” Lan Xichen repeated, the horror of it afresh: bad enough that Nie Mingjue’s brother had died – the thought of losing Lan Wangji causing an automatic burst of empathetic pain – but to think that Nie Mingjue had watched, had seen it the way he’d seen his father’s final moments…no wonder the man had lost his mind and morals. “And…A-Yao…you saw him…?”

“We three swore an oath not to betray each other, or to give aid to anyone who did,” Nie Mingjue said. “All of us, the three of us – do you remember? Whoever did so would face a thousand accusing fingers, be torn from limb to limb…do you remember?”

“I remember,” Lan Xichen said.

“I am here,” Nie Mingjue said, and his tone was still indifferent, still like stone, “in fulfillment of that oath.”

Lan Xichen’s fingers tightened around Shuoyue. “You blame me.”

Nie Mingjue did not respond, but then, he didn’t need to. It was Lan Xichen who insisted, time and time again, that Jin Guangyao be trusted – it was he who had arranged the entire outing. It had been his idea…at Jin Guangyao’s suggestion, yes, but he had accepted the idea and presented it as his own.

He had done it because he’d known Nie Mingjue would have refused if it had come from Jin Guangyao directly.

Jin Guangyao had known that, too. Had he – on purpose –

No. Surely not. The A-Yao he’d known would never have done that.

But – this wasn’t merely paranoia or dislike, the way he thought it would be based on Jin Guangyao’s fears in his letter. No: Nie Mingjue claimed to have seen it. And whatever he had seen, it had given him the certainty he required to take his saber to the entire Jin sect, man and woman alike, in a night attack of the sort he’d refused to wage even against the Wens, who he hated. A vicious attack, like a dog that had lost all reason.

Lan Xichen didn’t know what to believe.

“I understand your grief,” Lan Xichen said, and he did. If it had been Wangji… “Did you have to kill them all?”

“Kill the chicken to warn the monkey,” Nie Mingjue said simply. “No sect will ever style themselves as the inheritor of the Wens, whether in power or in willingness to – to sacrifice those they see as unnecessary, as a matter of politics.”

“And my sect? Let us say that I would acknowledge my guilt, and set down my sword – must they share my fate?”

“If I had not trusted in the reputation of the Lan sect, would I have believed you and let my enemy through the gates? Would Huaisang be dead now, if not for the renowned truthfulness of the Lan sect?”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes. “If you will not spare my sect, I cannot set down my sword.”

“I’m sorry, Xichen. You had to learn one day that there are things for which an apology is not enough.”

Nie Mingjue genuinely looked saddened by it all; that was the worst of it. It would hurt him to fight Lan Xichen, to kill him; it would stain his soul to kill his sect, who he’d loved almost like a second home.

Still, it was not a surprise. Lan Xichen knew his friend too well: from the moment Nie Mingjue had decided to cast off his righteousness, to lift his saber in revenge, he would never have spared himself the consequences of that decision – that one of the men he’d have to kill would be his own friend, that he would be the one who burned down the Cloud Recesses this time.

The massacre at the Jin sect was an atrocity, but one that could be understood. The rest of it…even Nie Mingjue would never forgive himself for what he was about to do here. He would do it regardless, because he believed it had to be done, and when the work was done, Nie Huaisang avenged in a world filled with blood, Baxia’s last victim would very likely be Nie Mingjue himself.

Lan Xichen didn’t want to see that.

He didn’t know how to stop it, either.

He exhaled, hard, and stood up, unsheathing Shuoyue. “Then we fight.”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue said, and Baxia came to his hand; the steel seemed to glow red as if anticipating the blood it would soon draw. Baxia only did that in the presence of evil – it seemed Nie Mingjue’s saber agreed with the man’s assessment of the situation; Lan Xichen had been judged guilty, and sentenced accordingly. “We fight.”

part 3 here

#mdzs #lan xichen #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #yes there will be more of this don't worry #Anonymous #blackened nmj

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mojaves · 3 years ago

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Cyperbönk 👀

blorbo: i cant pick just one theres so many. the other day i said panam is my blorbo,,, and i will stick by that actually. panam my beloved.

scrunkly: nibbles... shaped.... no hair. little creature of my heart

scrimblo bimblo: every version of delamain is my best friend. i love that i get to text a car,,, the fact that it sends selfies??? BIG fan it's so funny

glup shitto: the clown guy with the grenade nose. i need to know more about him. why did his brother tear his nose off. why did he think the grenade was a good substitute. what else would he replace with a grenade. also placide. and barry's tortoise.

poor little meow meow: johnny is the problematic fav. kerry is the pathetic fav.

horse plinko: goro.... you wouldnt even need to do much just send him memes. he'd get to pressed about it. favourite old man with a phone. but also kerry bc i think making him listen to ponpon shit would make him want to die one million deaths and it would be funny to watch. singlehandedly activating all of his problems and issues all at once. i will make him insane On Purpose

eeby deeby: every single person that has ever walked into my car while stationary and somehow died. i hope they all go to hell no matter what. and everyone who played a part in what happened to evelyn. nothing but rage and violence and malice <3

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ganondoodle · 9 months ago

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I probably still wouldn’t have been a big fan of the game, but I don’t think I would have been NEARLY as upset about TotK if BotW didn’t seem like it was so obviously setting up plot points for a sequel. Like, you’re very clearly MEANT to wonder what malice is, and how Ganon became the Calamity instead of just the Demon King. Fi is awake again, where are they going either that? What’s the deal with the Triforce-shaped symbol on Zelda’s hand? There were a LOT of other things like that, and many of them had to do with overarching lore for the series.

I get it if they want to reboot the series, but “BotW 2” was the single worst game you could have done that with. It could have been an amazing conclusion to the original continuity.

EXACTLY, you, you get it

botw felt like the introduction to a vast world with secrets and hints to things that were planned to become a bigger thing- a big giant game as a big giant set up, and then ... like totk likes to do alot, it lacks a pay off, and that is something it even does within itself, cosntantly, set up and no pay off, or set up and the most boring and uninspired pay off you can really not even call that, from the bigger things like the whole dragon thing being hammered into your head as irreversible and then it IS reversible.. out of nowhere without you having to do fuck all, the whole thing with the ancient hero beign a big mystery with lots of interesting ideas attached and then its some weird ass dog creature that doesnt resemble any other race with, of course, sonau armor, bc there nothing that isnt sonau in that game, even finding the old treasure maps you can find that then lead to amiibo stuff from botw id call that

botw wasnt that great with rewards either but exploring the world and wondering about those, surely intentionally, placed mysterious and intriguing designs and places did alot for making it so interesting to think about, totk fumbles it all and even the new stuff doesnt even come close to that environmental storytelling botw was so great at, sonau ruins? ha they look entirely different than in botw actually, bc those were built by hylians you see, the actual sonau stuff is in prime condition considering the time thats passed and its all the same blank blocky blocks that serve no purpose but to be a place for you to find a thing or exchange some currency- the most you can think about it is ... that the sonau hollowed out the entire underground of hyrule, every inch of the map, ... which is WEIRD and doesnt exactly make them look that good but ... thats all there is

at least with the shiekah it made somewaht more sense and it felt much less .. invasive? and you didnt have anyone from that time to talk to, other than dead monks whos only purpose is to give you their last piece of their own spirit, but in totk ... raurus ghost and mineru too are both just there to talk to but DONT tell you shit but vague hints that were already clear, the sky islands used to be on the ground? oh you dont say, you see them there in the stupid memories! and dont get to know how they got up there and theres nothing that can clue you in to that, its just sonau magic yet again i guess

dont even get me started on the whole malice/miasma thing, it made so much SENSE that there was a source of it, someone that has keep kept in a horrible place just between life and death for thousands of years trying to break free by their hate and anger manifesting to such a degree its literally spilling out and building creppy eyeballs, mouths and ribcage like structures like they are trying to rebuild themsleves outside of their awful prison no one knows about is so damn compelling, but no, actually, the guy trapped there was the msot evilest evar, was sealed bc him evil and no other motive, and the previously mentioned stuff is pretty much utterly unceonnected, and his magic beign miasma with red instead of pink and no creepy body parts was the true version of it, that pink one was its own thing heehooo SHUT UP argh

it doesnt help that really, i dont feel like the sonau were set up either, they were a tiny part in botw, really only serving to make the world seem more ancient and more full of history, having ruins from a past civilization there you know nothing about and cant find out more is so good, its compelling and sad and makes the world feel more real, just shoving them into everything, being the center of attention all of thes udden and not even the architecure fitting feels so ... forced, i really truly believe the og sonau werent meant to be more than that, but in their fear of the game being too similarly looking like botw they took the sonau to replace the shiekah with them- imo the shiekah were the ones set up to be deeper explored in botw, with their whole misstreatment by the royal family in the past, monk miz kyoshia reacting the same way a yiga commander would was deliberate and brings up even more interesting ideas, the comments about where the mysterious energy the ancient shiekah used to power everything being concentrated in certain regions?? thats a big ass set up, the fact that the center of what is signaling everything to reactivate being below hyrule castle? the fact the whole arena thing was BUILT INTO THE CASTLE or it on top of it is so??? cool??? and sso damn intriguing, we are scratching the surface of their history- but then no, actually, the sonau are the cool new shit those other ones just uh ... disappear, also the sonau did everythign the shiekah did but even better wayy before them haha

its like they didnt want to tackle the more complicated stuff with the shiekah, their relationship to the royal family and how the yiga ... have a point and a good reason- so they replaced them with entirely new purely goodest good guys that did the same stuff before them with none of the history attached :))

this is why im so insistent on it not really being a sequel, thers no follow up on anything that was set up, NOTHING, and no, a couple having a kid now or whatever isnt a follow up on an interesting set up, how hard is it to understand that-

.... listen to me rambling, you probably know all that already nhjdfkbnkd

(i know i always bring up the shiekah but ... they were so central in botw, while also not taking up every single corner- unlike some other ones >_____>, with so much interesting stuff to connect and think about, i cared about them so much i felt kicked down the stairs by their treatment in totk)

#ganondoodles answers #ganondoodles rants #zelda #totk #totk critical #maybe its jsut me that feels so strongly about the unanswered stuff around the shiekah #but im #biting wood and clawing up the walls in my head

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fluffybunnyartist · 5 years ago

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Hey!! Again I can't get enough!! I really appreciate you putting Actually time and effort into our asks! My ask! Can we get a Michael Myers (other SLASHERS) as a meaner more scary yandere?? Like just a more realistic darker version of them with a cute innocent S/O NSFW IF YOU WANT!! AGAIN NO RUSG

Hell ya!! NSFW: Blood, gore, implied sex and noncon.

MICHAEL MYERS

Whatever you did to catch this man's attention you're either one lucky bastard or one unfortunate SOB. Hes extremely possessive and in the first day of him showing you your his you'll be covered in hickies.

You can kick and scream all you want. He has you in his clutches and he needs you. You better learn how to behave. He doesnt like hurting you but will if you dont act nicely.

Friends? Murdered. Family? Pushed away. Any boyfriend/girlfriend? Killed 3 days ago. No one is allowed near you unless you're working or buying groceries. He does know when to let it go.

God forbid anyone flirt or bully you. They're tortured and killed. Only he can do that. Speaking of which his idea of flirting is stealing or murdering people for what he needs for you. That rich family down the street? Murdered and you got some nice shiny jewelry covered in blood.

Now he will wait for consent to fuck you. Hes not a complete monster and you're the only one he loves. But he will grope you, rub up against you and mark you however he pleases. When he kisses you he doesnt expect you to kiss back. Just sit back and take it. Hes still a dom but hes a bit cold. You talked to a cashier for too long and hes left you naked tied to the bed with a vibrator in for an hour.

All in all you're his little doll and hes never loved anyone like you. Just let me play with you Y/N, you'll enjoy it I promise.

JASON VOORHEES

He'd tear anyone to shreds to get to you. You remind him a bit of his mother, so sweet and kind and he wants you. He needs you. So everyone else is slaughter with blood and guts sprayed across the cabin and campgrounds as he carries you to his place.

He ties you up to a bed and a chair during the day so you can sleep at night. Hes very kind, despite slaughtering your friends. He'll treat you like a delicate bird or baby deer. Petting you softly and feeding you from his own plate.

Stay in Pamela's good graces. Mainly be nice to her boy! Dont do drugs and no escaping! If you try he wants hurt you. He'll put you into a timeout. Do it too many times and he'll bend you over his knee and spank you li km e a naughty child. So you're not in much danger.

He's very sweet to you once you get to know him but like Michael he refuses to let anyone come over or near you. He'll chase everyone away. You dont need them, Y/N! All you need is me. He loves to cuddle you. Sweet little pets and even kisses.

Hes more likely to take off the mask if you've earned his trust or promise kisses. Then he'll stay unmasked around you. But only you! He doesnt really make you work but he does appreciate if you clean house a bit.

He always makes sure to have consent before touching you any where other than your hair. He doesnt wanna upset you.

THOMAS HEWITT

Something about you caught his eye. And now here you are at dinner. With your dead friends seated on one side and the large man wearing you best friends face on the other.

Be kind. Dont insult them or itll lead to you being punished. Thomas already made clear that he wants you and he wants you alive so they wouldn't risk killing you but being forced to do hard labor and chopping your friends up for dinner isnt killing you.

He'll spoon feed you the stew made of people. And at dinner you're tied down until further notice. After that you'll be tied to Thomas's bed. He'll feel up on you and touch you no matter how much you squirm. He just cant believe a beautiful creature such as yourself is in his bed. Laying with him!

He likes to cuddle you a lot and he'll grind on you and hump you a ton. Hes never had a sexual outlet before so it's a common occurrence when he just masturbates over your naked body. He loves seeing the look on your face as he cums all over you.

He may actually fuck you without your consent. You're his right? His to take? And he loves you so much. He promises to make you feel good. Just let him in.

BUBBA SAWYER

The fact that you survived one dinner is enough for Bubba to make you his. He'll give you plenty of kisses straight off the bat. He makes sure you're fed and bathed. Usually you're tied up for these.

He doesnt talk so it hard to understand him but he likes to cuddle with you. Sometimes if you cut yourself or get cut he'll lap up the blood and sometimes he likes to bite you.

He can and will kill and eat your friends. If you try to run away or escape you leg or legs may be butchered or mutilated courtesy of Drayton telling Bubba that he needs to so you dont run away again.

Now he'll probably fuck you while you sleep or are so tired you dont know what's going on. He's not so great on consent but that's bc if his upbringing and not out of malice or need to prove your his.

Probably one of the more innocent ones and the only reason he harms you or does freaky shit is bc of his brothers. He likes to make you jewelry out of body parts or steal some from victims.

He'll have Drayton marry you too so you both can have kids together! And he wants lots of kids! He's so happy he found you!

BO SINCLAIR

You're tied up in the chair until you can behave yourself. You get bathroom breaks but only he can take you and hes right inside with you. He'll face the other way he just doesn't want you escaping.

He'll gag you if you keep making noise. He wont glue your lips together bc what if he scars them? You're his perfect little doll. He doesnt want you too injured. So stop struggling in those bindings Y/N. It wont help.

Within the first few days he'll be on top of you grinding and groping. Touching you wherever he can. He loves your body and he wants to make you feel good. Dont you wanna make him feel good too?

Hes aggressive though. He may love you but he wont hesitate to scream or yell at you if hes thinking you're acting like a bitch. Hell come back later being softer and kissing you.

He'll get you to marry him. How can you say no to him? He'll take care of you and your kids! Hes so excited to get his little nuclear family started! After the chair you'll be chained up in his room. Maybe he'll take you for a drive if your good. But hes another one to lock you down fully or cause it so you cant escape.

No he wont cut off your limbs! But maybe if you cant see the exit you wont be able to leave him. Remember even though he loves you he still gets off on your pain a bit.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

More or less Bo thought you'd be good for him and he locked you in the studio where Vincent spends all his time. At first he doesnt know what to do. He leaves you food and water and let's you use the restroom but ues not sure.... but you are really pretty.

Awkward cuddling. Usually when you're asleep he'll nuzzle up to you gently. He doesnt wanna wake you but he wants to be close to you. He'll start drawing you and soon he'll be enamoured with you.

During the day hes polite and kind and offers you things to keep yourself occupied. But at night he let's his fingers and lips wander wherever he wants. Usually you tire yourself out by crying or trying you escape. So you're really conked out by the time he starts to touch you.

He wont mutilate you if you try to escape no. He'll cripple you. He can just carry you where you need to go. He can help you with whatever you want! He can bring you food and water! You can have everything you've ever wanted! But you have to stay here with him.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bubba saywer x reader #bubba sawyer #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason vorhees x reader #jason voorhees #jason vorhees imagine #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher

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hjbender · 6 years ago

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What foods is pregnant mer!loki going to crave? Human foods that make thor set up treaties with humans? Or just sea foods? And will thor build a sea shell bra for Loki? Bc its pretty and I imagine he would be jealous of other fish looking at Loki.

Take a deep breath, anon, ‘cause we’re diving in 💦

Tagged: underwater domestic fluff, mpreg, pregnant sea snakes, ambisexual merfolk, interspecies sex, lemon, pregnant mersex, worldbuilding, merfolk biology, large cock, hemipenes, lactation kink, humor; 2090k words

After the discovery of Loki’s pregnancy, Thor began preparing in earnest for anything and everything leading up to that momentous day. His people, the dolphin folk, were prone to strange symptoms when they were pregnant, and food cravings were a common occurrence. He vowed to do his best to keep Loki comfortable and happy during this time.

Loki was unconcerned. He was a sea snake after all, not one of the Dolfolk, and he fully expected to bypass all of the odd behaviors Thor described. Considering how well-developed his babies looked when he first saw them swirling in green mist above his cauldron, he was probably well past those stages anyway.

But that wasn’t the case.

“My people carry their offspring for over a year,” Thor explained, stroking Loki’s belly as they lay tangled together in a soft, comfortable bed of sea ferns. “Considering how extraordinary ours will be, it might take even longer.”

Loki sat up with wide eyes. “An entire year?”

“At the very least.”

His pupils shrank into horrified slits.

Over a year being pregnant? He couldn’t possibly last that long! The six little hybrids he carried in his belly already appeared to be full term. He was expecting this to be a short pregnancy followed by a quick, easy birth. A few good pushes and splish splash sploosh, out pop six wriggling tadpoles who instinctively knew how to swim and scavenge and survive on their own. Not that Thor planned to let them do that. No, the Dolfolk raised their young and lived with them for most of their lives, Loki knew. They had large extended families and their social structure was close and complex.

Loki, on the other hand, had never met his parents or any of his siblings. The Serpenians were a solitary, self-sufficient race who came together only during mating season once every few years. Pregnancies lasted a mere couple of months, then they birthed their snakelets in shallow waters and promptly abandoned them, allowing them to make their own way. Some of the young fell prey to the many predators and dangerous things that lived in the sea. The survivors endured and reached maturity, forming the new generation. Serpenian babies were born tiny but they were hardy and full of instinct. There wasn’t cruelty or malice behind these traditions. It was simply the way of Loki’s people, how things had been done for millennia.

But the babies Loki carried weren’t entirely Serpenian. They were part Dolfolk and they certainly shared their father’s gift for harnessing electrical energy, even at this early stage in their development. It made Loki wonder; if his babies were already this developed, then what were they going to do until they were born?

The answer was grow. Grow, emit occasional bursts of bioelectric power, and make their mother’s hormones fluctuate more times per day than the tide.

At eight weeks, three-quarters of the way through a typical Serpenian pregnancy, Loki’s sex drive suddenly increased tenfold. Thor was tremendously pleased by this and was ready at any given moment to offer his body to appease Loki’s needs. He had always admired (and envied) Loki’s hemipenes, the impressive pair of organs that everted when he was aroused, but it was the sweet little slit below them that he truly loved to lavish with attention. It wept for over a week, constantly producing a slick mucus that aided their lovemaking and allowed Thor’s pointed, 18-inch prehensile cock to seat itself completely inside Loki, causing his belly to bulge with its mass.

In this state of carnal euphoria, Loki would remain coupled with Thor for hours at a time, his tail wrapped around Thor’s while his sheath clenched tightly and milked Thor’s seed from him, eliciting as many as a dozen orgasms in a single hour. Because Thor could move his penis at will, he was able to selectively seek out Loki’s many erogenous spots and repay the pleasure. It was especially titillating to see Loki’s belly shift with his organ’s movements. Loki both praised and cursed Thor for his beautiful, beastly anatomy, weak moans of ecstasy on his quivering lips.

But even in the throes of intercourse, he still managed to retain a maternal concern for his unborn offspring.

“Oh, Thor, the babies,” he panted, heaving lungfuls of bubbles into the water as Thor’s cock writhed ruthlessly inside him, hitting all of his sweet spots at once. “Don’t hurt the babies!”

“The babies are safe,” Thor murmured. He stroked Loki’s back soothingly and nuzzled his neck as they lay belly to belly with one another, rocking against the sandy seabed. “They are sealed in your womb, and your womb will protect them. Do not fear. I cannot harm them.”

Loki pulled back a little to look down at his stomach, his small bump tingling with electrical activity. “But I can feel them moving. They’re jumping and wriggling and there’s so mu—ah! So much energy they’re producing!”

“They are simply excited that their mother is excited,” Thor said with a breathless smile. “After you climax, they will settle down and sleep once more.”

Loki smirked breathlessly and pulled Thor close. “Perhaps we can rock them to sleep.”

Thor growled in agreement and slowed his thrusts, rolling his hips in smooth, serpentine motions, just as Loki had taught him.

They made love in this way for another half hour until neither could last another minute. They climaxed together, Thor coating Loki’s overfull sheath with his seed; it leaked out around his softening cock and turned into cloudy white tendrils in the water. Loki collapsed into the sand, sated and happy, and the stirrings inside him gradually quieted.

At sixteen weeks, Loki was possessed by cravings. Soon Thor spent more time out hunting for treats than in his mate’s company. He worked tirelessly to bring Loki anything he wanted, often robbing fishermen’s traps and stealing from their nets. It was dangerous, Thor knew. The alliance between men and merfolk was tenuous at best and treacherous at worst. If he were caught, there was a slim chance he would be released. He would be forced to fight for his freedom and possibly his life. Though he was getting better at controlling his powers, he knew he could shock only a small crew to incapacitation. A larger crew armed with poles and pikes and clubs… that worried him.

And Loki worried for him as well. “Whatever you do, stay away from the Sandmaster. If you’re caught by him, you’ll never escape.”

Thor frowned. “The Sandmaster?”

“You’ll know him by his ship.” Loki’s knuckles popped as he wrung his hands. “It’s called the Sakaar, and it’s painted gold and blue and red. His nets are unbreakable. His traps bear the name of Gast. Stay away from them, Thor. Don’t even go near them. Promise me.”

Thor nodded slowly after a moment. “I promise.”

Loki continued to fidget. “It’s not just the Sandmaster you need to watch out for. I hear his brother keeps merfolk prisoner at a place called Knowhere Island. He collects them like trophies. He’s always looking for rare sea creatures to add to his menagerie. His ship is the Tivan and it has a black hull with white trim.” He placed his hand on his growing belly and gazed at Thor seriously. “I cannot raise our children alone, Thor. I need you. Our babies will need you. Please, stay away from those humans. I can do without lobster but I can’t do without you.”

Thor smiled at Loki tenderly and swam over to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Do not fret, Loki. I give you my word I shall return to you.” He passed his hand over Loki’s swollen midsection and sent a warm, comforting pulse of electricity to his sleeping babies. “To all of you.”

And he always did.

Thor never saw the Sakaar or the Tivan on his hunts, but he did come across a line of traps on the seafloor bearing the name of Gast. The contents were exactly what he was looking for—giant crustaceans that would feed Loki’s cravings for the next four months—but he recalled his beloved’s warning to him and the promise he’d given him. And Thor turned and swam as fast as he could.

There would be other traps. Nothing was worth risking his life over. Very soon he was going to be a father; he would have a family to take care of, a mate that would need him, little ones to raise. He wanted to be there for them. And by Aegir’s scales, he would be.

Sometime around the six-month mark, Loki returned to his lair after a day spent browsing the reefs to find Thor waiting with a grin and a curious garment to bestow him.

“It’s for your comfort,” he explained, slipping the beautiful sea silk and abalone-embellished brassiere around Loki’s flat chest. It was unusually loose in the front. “We call it a brace.”

Loki was puzzled by the oversized fit. “It’s very lovely, Thor, but what in the Seven is it for?”

Thor blinked. “It’s… for when your milk comes in.”

Now it was Loki’s turn to stare. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your milk. You”—Thor’s smile flickered weakly—“when your breasts swell and begin to produce milk. You will surely be sore from feeding six babies several times a day, and this will prevent you from moving about too much. And, er”—a slight blush crept across his cheeks—“it will deter unwholesome gazes. You are sure to be engorged as your date approaches, and certain males are aroused by the sight of a mother’s full breasts. The brace will offer a modest cover if you attract unwanted atten—what is so funny?”

Loki stopped chuckling and took a breath. “Oh, Thor. Serpenians don’t give milk!”

Thor’s excitement deflated faster than a popped blowfish. “Wh… but.” His eyes drifted down to Loki’s chest. “But you have nipples.”

“So do you. And like yours, they will yield nothing, I’m quite sure.”

To say Thor was sad would be a hilarious understatement. He was devastated. “But… but our babies,” he whimpered. “What will they eat? How will they survi—”

“Oh, Thor, Thor.” Loki smiled patiently and glided forward, wrapping his tail around Thor’s and resting his arms on his shoulders. “Dear Thor, fretful father-to-be. Our babies are sea snakes. Or at least part sea snake. They will be born with teeth. They will survive as I did, eating small creatures and plants. You worry needlessly.”

The heartbroken look on Thor’s face did not fade. “But I was… I was looking forward to taking care of them. Of you holding them close and feeding them. That bonding. I didn’t think. I never knew you…”

Loki snickered as Thor struggled for words, stroking his fingers through his flowing golden hair. “They shall be cared for. You and I will hold them and feed them by hand, and they will develop the family bond that is so important to your people. They shall know both our worlds and yet belong to one of their very own. Don’t despair, Dada. Everything will be fine.”

Thor grinned meekly as Loki kissed the corner of his bristly mouth. “Well, I… was also rather looking forward to playing with your breasts. I mean, er, massaging them, of course. Making them feel better. And I could help you get rid of any, um… excess supply.”

Loki arched a brow, already intrigued. “Hmm,” he purred, “so you are one of those awful, unwholesome males who is aroused by the sight of a mother’s full breasts, are you?”

“Only yours, Loki,” he answered, but his smirking face was a red as a boiled crab.

Loki laughed and locked his hands together behind Thor’s head, flicked his tail, and pulled Thor toward the dark bower of his kelp bed. “Why don’t we give it a try, then? Milk or no milk, you could still make a meal of me.” His tongue darted out and playfully brushed against Thor’s lips.

Thor went cross-eyed for a moment. He shook it off with a brilliant smile and slipped his arms around Loki’s waist, feeling the six products of their love press warmly against him.

“No, I will make a feast of you,” Thor rumbled, reaching down between them and palming Loki’s genital slit, finding it already slick and engorged.

Loki grinned sharply and pulled Thor backward into the waving stalks of kelp. They disappeared with a flash of blue and green tails.

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celestialsoft · 6 years ago

Text

⤻ * GREETINGS AND HELLO !!!! : IT IS I , ADMIN EDIE ! HERE ONCE AGAIN HERE TO POST AN INTRO :~))))

this time i’m here to introduce you to my tenderhearted wee bab of an angel who clears my skin and grows by crops tBH, FRANK KANGDAE LONGBOTTOM, my lionhearted boi who deserves e v e r y t h i n g ( literally ; empty out your pockets and give EVERYTHING u have to frankleface longbooty—— he . deserves . it . all . !!!!! ) if you’d like to plot, please like this post or hmu in my im’s & without further ado —— here’s frank ! pls love him

⤻ * APPLICATION —— !

* ╰ ( KIM YOUNGKYUN )┋have you met ( FRANKLIN KANGDAE LONGBOTTOM ) ? ( he ) reminds me of ( deep loneliness and deep kindness grown in equal parts —— and he speaks, so overcome with love, that i forget we are at war. he grew up hanging lanterns on hilltops to make sure the moon could see at night ; and practiced catching droplets of rain with his lips —— because even the clouds deserved a little romance. ' i infinitesimal being, drunk with the great starry void ' —— tenderhearted boy , luminescent boy : boy frightened , boy destroyed. unravelled by kindness ; compassion consumed —— on the precipice of supernova , he burns brightest in the darkest hour. he looks to me as if he were a man forged entirely of tenderness and the sun ; yet he is the sweet nocturne that plays despite how the beginning of the end has begun ). a ( twenty-one ) year old ( tenth ) year ( gryffindor ), the ( paladin ) is known to be ( + tenderhearted & + clement ), yet ( — oversolicitous & — pensive ). that explains why they’re majoring in ( healing ). rumour has it, ( frank ) is siding with ( the order ) in the solemn war that blazes beyond the castle walls. ( edie, 22, aedt, she/her )

⤻ * ABOUT FRANK —— !!

ahhhhh, frank longbottom —— where do i even start ????? if there’s just one thing that you should absolutely know about frank longbottom, it is that he is a gosh darn heckin’ angel. his heart is ??? so ??? genuinely pure ??? just thinking about it makes me want to tear up tbh

frank is the kind of boy who will charge straight into the carnage and chaos of the whomping willow to save a cat. he’s the kind of boy who hangs out by the edge of the black lake, worried that the giant squid is feeling lonely. he’s the kind of boy who sees the potential for good in everyone & everything, and is genuinely confused and appalled by acts of unkindness and malice when they occur. he chooses the path of benevolence, always, and he wants to keep everyone he loves safe so he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and feels like it is up to him, & him alone, to SAVE THE WORLD and make it a better place. i repeat for you my fronds : frank longbottom gosh darn heckin’ angel. but my god, is he a broken one.

⤻ * BACKGROUND —— !!

frank was born into a sacred 28 pureblood family who cared very little for blood purity, but a whole lot for social justice & fighting for what is right. thomas and augusta longbottom first met at the ministry of magic, where their ‘ left-wing ’ progressive ideas about wizard / muggle / magical creature relations brought them together. their love brought frank longbottom into the world ; a child who was, from an early age, exposed to concepts of in/equality, systematic oppression, privilege, biased public policy, and injustice through his parents.

under the steady & tireless virtuous guidance of his mother and father, frank longbottom bloomed from infancy into childhood with a strong sense of egalitarianism & selflessness that most children only learned well into adolescence, and he had an awareness of the injustices of the world that many people did not gain even well into adulthood. yet despite his parent’s rather strict & heavy hand in discipline, there was always a remarkable air of benevolence and incorruptibility about frank that refused to be befouled.

nevertheless, frank was a terribly lonely child. he was homeschooled by a thoroughly screened, left-wing half-blood governess, and she was just about his only connection to the outside world. it goes without saying that sacred 28 pureblood socialising events & parties were off-limits and out of the question for frank, and since the longbottoms lived in suburban muggle england, frank was always too scared to socialise with many of the children in his neighbourhood, fearful that he would accidentally expose his magical lineage & incur terrible consequences for his folly. shut away in a house of absolute virtue and morality, frank longbottom was a victim of utter loneliness & never got to experience the world his parents adamantly taught and trained him to save … until his letter from hogwarts arrived, that is.

⤻ * HOGWARTS —— !!

frank was a heckin’ confusing four-way house hat stall during his sorting. the hat sensed the resolute loyalty and benevolence of hufflepuff in him, the love and respect for knowledge and learning of ravenclaw in him & the tenacity and ambition to achieve his goals of slytherin in him, but ultimately, the sorting hat settled on “ GRYFFINDOR ! ”, declaring its choice with a booming roar. above all, the sorting hat sensed frank to be brave —— willing ( & desperate, even ) to fight for what is right. it’s a shame that frank, to this day, doesn’t seem to see this bravery in himself. but by the warm beacon of the gryffindor common room fireplace, under the twinkling candlelights of the great hall, and at the top of the astronomy tower ( the stars and galaxies at the reach of his very own fingertips ), frank, at hogwarts has grown to be exactly the kind of person his parents have always wanted him to be : stalwartly true ; combatting hate with kindness, and enveloping cruelty with warmth. he loves deeply and vastly, and he honestly radiates this other-worldy quality of brightness ??? he’s the light in the dark, and oh how he shines.

however —— the fact that he’s already grown into someone that his parents are proud of doesn’t stop frank from still wanting to be better, and wanting to save the world. what frank doesn’t realise is that he can hardly save the world if he can’t first save himself. he’s constantly emotionally and physically exhausted ; spending every moment of his time helping those around him and making sure to change to the world one kind act at a time. slowly but surely, frank’s bleeding heart and compulsion for kindness is coming to the point of being harmful to his own health and wellbeing.

so yeah … … . though frank is falling apart, he never lets this show & he really tries to never make this anyone else’s problem. through the haze of responsibility and moral duty that has always clouded frank’s life, there’s still a profound tenderness and warmth about him ; and among all his advocations and efforts towards justice & peacetime, it’s difficult to discern just how deeply scared, lost, and confused the boy is in a world that refuses to cease changing right before his very eyes ; an inevitable war upon the horizon.

⤻ * LITTLE HEADCANONS —— !!

frank has always been V MAGICALLY GIFTED. he showed his first signs of magic when he was just one and a half, when he had a terrible nightmare & woke up screaming in the middle of the night. instead of waiting for his parents to come and calm him down though, frank simply closed his eyes & focused on his breathing. when his parents stumbled into the room ; sleep hazy in their eyes, they could hardly believe what they saw : the entire room, covered in flowers and lush foliage —— something that frank had somehow conjured up to keep himself calm ( b/c untamed childhood magic be CRAZY ). frank is now able to command wandless magic, which is a GODSEND tbh b/c he’s such a sleep-deprived mess & he loses his wand c o n s t a n t l y istG

being a sacred 28 pureblood with quite advanced magical abilities, frank has always been in high demand for pureblood partnership through an arranged marriage. his parents, have always hastily shot down offers ( bc they aren’t all up in that pureblooded nonsense ! ), but that hasn’t stopped pureblooded parents from reaching out anyway :/ yIKEs :///

frank is part of the slug club ,,,,,,,,,,,,, and like ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, every single other club / extracurricular. baby longbottom is an OVERACHIEVER EXTRAORDINAIRE —— YA BOI DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO CHILL. it’s not that frank is driven by any sort of particular ambition and self-interest, though ?? rather, frank’s heavy involvement in every aspect of school life stems from the aforementioned incredible pressure of his parent’s expectations ; frank applying himself to every possible aspect of school life and extracurriculars in the hopes that he will make them proud

frank has so little chill that he’s actually started sleepwalking … yikes ????? it probably doesn’t help that frank is involved in almost every sport club tbH, & he is also gryffindor quidditch team’s seeker. the thing is that he could never give any sport up. sport is so cathartic for frankie my boi, because it helps him forget his worries & his responsibilities. while he’s playing sport he is just a body —— he is pulsing blood, deep breaths & he is free.

⤻ * OTHER FUN FACTS / GENERAL SUMMARY DOT POINTS ABOUT FRANKLEFACE LONGBOOTY —— !!

THE MOST CLEAN CUT KID OF THE YEAR AWARD GOES TO : frank longbottom, OFC. innuendo is lost on the kid ( he is v v v lost every time someone uses the word ‘ wand ’ as double entendre ), and has only consumed alcohol once in his life —— and even then, it was by accident ( it was in a spiked cherry berry trifle at an end of year christmas party back in first year ).

LATELY, THOUGH, frank has taken up smoking. he does it in secret ; one cigarette every night in the astronomy tower, or by the black lake. if anyone ever found out about this frank would be MORTIFIED & would legitimately probably DIE of shame, so ………….. *coughs* someone pls walk in on him smoking one day.

it’s so strange, because frank is incredibly in touch with the real travesties and injustices of the world, but in many ways he’s completely naive and lacking in real life experience. he is such an experientially sheltered kiddo, someone pls take him out and get him RAGING DRUNK bc he needs to chill out tbH

#mumfriend

takes literally 15 minutes out of each of his days to have a few conversations with a few of hogwarts’ cats ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, what a loser ??

gets excited when people ask him for help with their homework ( hELP ME ???? )

excels at all his subjects, but has a particular soft-spot for astronomy, herbology and care of magical creatures :’)

LOVES KNITTING —— stress knits a lot . he’d like to just knit the entire world up into a snug lil blanket and keep it safe and warm

wants to single handedly save the world

did i mention ????? babe is a gosh dark heckin’ angel

in the mirror of erised, frank would see all his friends and family happy and smiling —— but he wouldn’t even be in the frame. mY HEART BREAKS OVER THIS HEADCANON TBH

frank has a cat named alexis de tocqueville

i’ve run out of things to dot point & this is probably WAY TOO LONG ALREADY ANYWAY ??? so i’ll stop :o :o :o but please come and interact with my son ?!!!!!!??!? i love yall peace out

#solemnly:intros #hello greetings good morning how are u ?#my name is edie and i would die for frank longbottom ty the end goodbye #queued.

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