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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k Tags/warnings: Pining intensifies, religious despair intensifies, minor injuries, treatment of wounds, crying, enthusiastic kissing, König gets a few boners. 18+ for eventual smut in this story.

A/N: Don't tell me you wouldn't get horny scared too if you saw this tall guy suddenly emerging from the shadows in his full war gear :) There's a cute date night and a lot of angst in this chapter too, I tried to summon an actual plot here... As always, I need to explain why they’re bonking! But smut is coming, next and last chapter will be full of fluff and steamy first times (Reader is virgin!)

Part 2

You have a feeling that this is the last day you’ll see him.

The stranger from the Austrian Alps, the kindest mercenary you’ve ever met – the only mercenary you’ve ever met – the giant soldier who now carries a piece of your heart with him. You wonder if he even knows he owns it.

The morning prayers and mass are a chore and bring you no comfort, and the usual dawn bliss is gone. You find no delight in singing with your sisters, and withdrawing to your cell for solitary prayer feels like stepping back inside your own personal purgatory.

You’ve been in heaven and in hell for days now. Maybe since the moment you met him...

But at the same time, you know it must’ve been the Lord who brought you together. There must be a reason for God to make you two meet, you refuse to think it’s only because He wishes to tempt you. There must be a bigger plan; the connection, as sinful and carnal as it is, has to serve some higher purpose.

And you wonder if you’re going mad, because your most sinful thought is that you actually see God in him. It’s just your lower instincts speaking, a demon of some sort that tries to misguide you because no man is like Lord Jesus.

And yet, don’t they always preach that you meet Him in every person you meet? And that through you, other people meet God too…?

This reasoning feels much better. It solidifies the mercy you’ve longed for during the brief weeks you’ve known this man who brashly calls himself König. You want to believe that he carries a spark of the Divine in him, and that you hold a grain of the Virgin Mary’s compassion and love in you.

You decide to hold on to this thought: that you were meant to meet so that you could come to know God through each other. For in König, you see a suffering God, a crucified Christ who rises against evil by offering himself to the cruelty of men. Somehow, the image of him as a mortal man starts to twist into a divine, dark trooper, someone who battles the forces of the evil in this world.

And this reasoning leads you to think that it is only natural that you, a Sister of the Faith, have helped him find some rest and relief in the middle of his work. It’s pretty clear that König has found some solace in your company, and even if things have ventured into a forbidden area of low, simple lust, it’s not dark enough to taint the beauty and grace you've felt together. As long as you hold on to this purity, nothing can go wrong.

While praying for both of you that morning, you find yourself replaying the smiles and touches König has given you these past weeks. You know you will drown yourself in memories after he's gone because they are all you’ll ever have of him.

And they're more than enough.

Or at least they should be…

You feel a tiny dagger of guilt push into your heart, the place reserved for Christ, when you’re assigned to do some spiritual reading instead of helping out in the kitchen or organizing the small library. The appointed texts are about falling into temptation and sin, reminding you about the consequences of such actions. You read the passings with a heavy heart and then slip out to meet König, possibly for the last time.

You wear your everyday clothes to the café, and König says nothing about your sudden moral choice, only gives you another longing, enamored once-over. You keep him at arm’s length, both physically and emotionally, and the effects of this unexpected cold shower are immediate. The man doesn’t even try to disguise the sad, puppy-eyed stares he shoots your way.

You hate it that the bright, playful air of your meetings is gone, and your heart is tearing itself apart in your chest because the only thing you wanted was to spread joy into his world. Even the Lord seems disappointed in you being so cold-hearted, and you can’t bear to see His sadness and suffering in König’s eyes.

You get offered not one, but two coffees today, and a large piece of dark chocolate cake that tastes of pure sin. He talks about how he would love to write to you, but you tell him you can’t be in correspondence with a man who isn’t your brother or father. König isn’t even married, so it would only raise questions – you would find yourself reading spiritual texts about lust and sin until it drives you crazy.

“I’m leaving early tomorrow,” he finally reveals with a voice thick with sorrow. “Can I see you before I go...? One last time?”

“I’d love to, but… I’m sort of being watched,” you say, slowly coming out of your shell to make it clear that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with him, but you simply just can’t.

Your weak, apologetic look is like a dose of confidence shot through his veins because the face opposite of you brightens immediately. König’s whole posture gets a hopeful uplift.

“Just for a little walk...? To see what the city looks like in the evening?”

“I don’t know if I can make it… I have to work until six... And attend the evening prayer at seven. And then silence starts at eight…”

You’re wringing your hands under the table while you explain, hoping König will come up with a solution to this dilemma.

“We can go for a walk after silence, then,” he shrugs.

“I–I can’t just escape from the window.”

“...Why not?”

You look at König; he looks straight back.

The man’s serious about you sneaking out your window at night; he’s actually serious, even if there’s a dark, playful smile rising on his lips.

“I can help,” he grins.

Your heart cracks open, it shoots full of light only more and more with that smile. König doesn’t need to ram a door down and shoot his way through your chest; all he has to do is sneak inside your heart and take the place that belongs to God. You don’t even feel the difference as he makes himself at home.

Well, actually, you do... It’s like your Christ’s love and mercy have finally come to flesh and blood before you. They're materialized in the man sitting opposite of you, bouncing his knee excitedly and grinning like the most innocent little devil on Earth.

You find yourself whispering “Ok”, and the whole world shifts.

You take a step towards something forbidden but great, your whole heart starts to sing along with life. You haven’t even done the actual thing yet but you’re already filled with bubbling laughter and excitement. If only your friend could see you now, about to do things she probably did when she was fifteen...

But everything feels so right that it can’t be a sin – if it is, it just so happens to be the most natural, most divine thing to do too.

If this is the last day you’ll ever see him, you can surely steal a tiny moment for yourself and forget about rights and wrongs for a moment. Just forget about the rules, and live in the actual world for a few hours, breathe the worldly air, see what normal people do and pretend you’re one of them, for just one night.

…

You feel like Cinderella when picking clothes for the evening.

You rummage through the only closet in your room – during the time that should be spent in silent prayer before bed – and notice you still have your old jeans.

They’re light blue and still fit; actually, they fit more than well... You know that König’s eyes will be glued to your butt when you’re not looking.

You have completely forgotten how nice you look in jeans, and it’s the Devil talking, making you admire yourself in tight denim like this. You never cared about how you look before; you certainly never gave much thought to how men see you or if they’re checking out your butt or breasts. Now you’re grooming yourself like never before, trying to decide what to do with your hair as if your life depended on it.

You choose a simple, black t-shirt to pair with the jeans and not make it too obvious that you’re trying to flaunt yourself. It hugs your form but is otherwise plain, and for some people, your choice of clothing is probably their regular work outfit. To you, it feels like you’re about to go out to seduce everyone.

Everything’s so tight and earthly; everything’s so… there. Visible... Touchable.

Lord, have mercy on me. I know I’m weak. But please let me have this, just this once…

And König has seen you without makeup all this time, so what on earth has possessed you to lament the fact that you don’t own a single case of lipstick? You’d kill for a few sweeps of mascara, too, just to bat your lashes at a silly man.

It’s not a date, you remind yourself.

It’s not a date... It’s not a date. You’re just going to have a short walk with him.

And you fear that accepting König’s “help” was a mistake. If you get caught with a man on the convent perimeter, you’ll get your ass thoroughly whooped…

Can a man of his size even keep quiet?

He probably suggested it so that you wouldn’t chicken out of this. If König is at your window by 8 and there’s no sign of you, he’ll probably just come in, throw you on his shoulder and jump out. He knows where your window is located now, and surely has some questionable skills due to his profession, skills you know nothing about, but you’re still about to have a panic attack from pure excitement when the clock strikes 8.

You push the window ajar and settle on the sill to keep watch, gasping when you hear his familiar accent down below as soon as the window is open.

“Kätzchen...”

“König…?”

You peek down and meet his stupid, grinning face – God, he’s so happy to see you kept your promise. His eyes are shining, his fingers interlock to help you have something to place your foot on.

“Here, kitty, kitty…”

You could easily jump out the window without hurting yourself, but of course he wants to help you since you were so kind to tell him where he could come and "pick you up".

But to see that playful smile and hear him trying to coax you out like you’re some skittish little kitten…

Could a grown man get any more silly?

You wiggle yourself out the window, trying to ignore the fact that he’s probably staring at your butt, still grinning like crazy while you do it.

SupportING your entire weight like it’s no trouble at all, he helps you down. You’ve never been this close to him since you bumped into him: you have to take support from his shoulders as you search for a footing, and he scoops you in his arms the minute both your feet are safely on the ground.

“I knew you’d come,” he purrs with joy, and you place your hands on his chest – not to keep him at bay, but to touch him in a way that is as appropriate as possible when a man is hugging you like this.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whisper, still unsure if this is the best or the worst decision of your entire life.

“Kitty… Live a little, hmm?”

You have to crane your neck to look up at him – you’re not sure if you’re in the embrace of Jesus or Lucifer because the warmth of those eyes compare to the love of God, but they also make you weak and helpless. Whenever you’re with your sisters, the feeling is pure, pristine love, not a surge of complex emotions and thrill like it is with König.

“You’re a bad influence,” you breathe – König only laughs, and the grip around you tightens.

“My lady. You’re the one who climbed out the window.”

“Because someone would’ve probably thrown small rocks on it if I hadn’t…!”

“Natürlich. And if that didn’t work… A serenade or two. Do you like love songs?”

You look down at his chest, smiling, heart fluttering at the thought of a silly Austrian man serenading under your window. You have no trouble imagining him singing something syrupy in German, waking everyone up with his racket.

“You’re crazy, did you know that...?”

“Sure. They tell me that all the time at work. Aber du… Du bist süss.”

“...What’s that?”

His smile only widens as he takes in your lips, your neck, the tight shirt that finally gives him something more to look at.

“You’re cute.”

…

The whole evening is heavenly.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted from a date and more.

He doesn’t take you for a short walk, oh no. He takes you out to eat, at some lively restaurant where they serve delicious, artisan, wood-fired pizzas. You have créme brûlée for dessert, and König gives you his strawberries when he notices you eat them first, but only on one condition: you have to let him feed them to you one by one.

He buys you a rose: a big, red, plump one. No man has ever bought you flowers before, and even if you love lush, abundant bouquets, the fact that he chose you a single red rose after you’ve spoken about the beauty of simplicity, doesn't escape you.

König hasn’t only listened to you these past few weeks: he gets you. And how symbolic is it that he chose a rose that’s also tied to all the mysteries of God?

You walk the streets with a flower in one hand and his palm in the other. It's a holy trinity of him and you and the Great Mystery, it’s passion and it’s thorns, it’s blood and beauty and pain, and you feel like he just gets you; he knows you through and through.

You pass by an outdoor bar with live music, and the place is so crowded that people are dancing on the streets. No cars honk as they slowly pass by the scene, the music and the laughing, dancing pairs make even the grumpiest passersby smile.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that König pulls you to him before you get to escape the scene. You’re drawn flush against his chest, hips colliding with his, hands finding each other in a slow sway that has never even seen the steps of Latin dances.

“Nuns are allowed to dance, no?”

He smiles dreamily, enveloped in the same sweet haze as you.

“Not with a man,” you correct, but don’t even bother to push him away. Instead, you let König guide his hand down your waist and draw you closer. If this isn't a date, you don't know what is...

“I can take the blame,” he says. “You can tell everybody it was me.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” you laugh.

“Why not?”

His eyes are glued to yours, making you warm all over, so much so that you feel like you’re burning from the neck up. You guide your stare down to his chest, then over to the quick heartbeat on his neck.

He's nervous, too... Your cruel soldier is nervous, and kind, and shy because he's pressed against you.

You rest your head there on his chest, watching the golden sunset far away, painting the rooftops with a genial glow. Your heart is made of molten gold, too, as you allow yourself find a home in his embrace.

“I can take your sins,” he promises above you. “Jesus did that too, right?”

“You’re not Jesus,” you smile against his shirt – black, always black...

“Are you sure? I would go to hell for you.”

Your dance comes to a halt as you swallow and lift your gaze. The smiles are gone now, both yours and his. He’s so close now he could touch your lips with his if he wanted to.

And he does want to.

You don’t shy away as he leans down to kiss you. It’s chaste at first, a slow exploration, but then he opens your mouth with his, demanding, hot, intoxicating. You melt in his arms, and he somehow supports you through it all, turning the dance into an embrace and the decent little kiss into a full French one.

It’s hot and wet and slow, so, so passionate that your knees are about to give in. You devour him back, feel how he grows hard against your stomach – the swelling erection makes you dizzy before you come to your senses, but only barely.

You break away an inch, panting into his mouth while he’s panting into yours. What a blessing that you don’t own any lipstick; both of your lips are red without it…

“This is–”

“Inappropriate?”

His voice is husky, and sends a flood of wetness down between your legs. Your heart is racing, but you can’t even note how terribly alive you are before he attacks your lips again.

The kiss is even more desperate than the first one, and the slow urgency is gone. His mouth leaves you without air, and then – he wraps his arms around you and picks you up from the ground like you weigh nothing. Your hands get squished somewhere between you, naturally coming to cup his face as you kiss him back.

It’s eager, pure lust, so powerful and needy that it scorches through your chest and ties your heartstrings into tight little knots, makes your brows knit together, too.

He grunts into your mouth, sensing you’re more than up for this after all. You let him see the full depth of your hunger and your lust, just waiting to be released and taken – made love to until you’re both sore and messy and limp.

God… This is better than God…

You hear whistles and whoos in the distance, some men yelling, “Let’s go!” and “Get a room” while they pass by. Realizing you’ve fallen into a dream trap of strong arms and needy lips about to depart tomorrow, you know it's something you could have had years ago, perhaps, but not anymore. You'll lose everything if you break your vows tonight: basically, you’ve already broken them, but no permanent damage has been done.

You can still turn back if you turn back now…

You push yourself away, push him away, heart clenching when you see his adoring, love-drunk, half-lidded stare.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you come down from your high. “I just–I can’t…”

He breathes labouriously, still clutching you against him, holding you in the air like you’re the thing he has searched for his entire life and now, finally discovered… Only to be told that he now has to put it back where he found it.

You’re crying by the time he sets you down, and you have no heart or will to pull away. Instead, you bury your face in his chest and cry your fill in his shirt. It’s soon damp from your tears as König hugs and supports you through his own stoic heartbreak.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry…”

You repeat it until you can’t repeat it anymore, bawling in his chest while the world around you continues to spin despite your heaven and hell, despite your vows, despite your stupid devotion. The world revolves like it always has, as you choose a crucified man over the one who’s flesh and blood and holds you through your pain.

“Kätzchen, don’t cry,” he pets your hair while you sniffle and tremble in his embrace. You know this is not the last time you will cry your heart out over him, but knowing it doesn't help you when he offers you his last, bittersweet comfort.

“It was a good dream while it lasted...”

…

The rose withers in your cell.

You turn it upside down and tie it to the curtain rod to prevent it from dropping its petals. It dries beautifully and keeps its bloodred colour, now reminding you of both Jesus and him.

There hasn’t been a word from König in months, and of course there hasn’t. You denied his wish to write you, and the dried rose is the only thing left of your time with him.

In the first weeks, it’s hard to keep up a charade. You show up to prayer, work and mass with red eyes, revealing to everyone that you’re going through a loss of some sort. Somewhere during the first week, the abbess summons you to meet her and you brace yourself for a scolding.

God knows you don’t need the rebuke, and when you close the door and turn to face the symbolic mother of the convent, you end up breaking into tears right in front of her.

“Whatever you were up to, my child, I am glad that it is over now,” she says with all the gentleness of the world.

“Me too,” your voice breaks, and when the abbess extends her hands, you go to her, fall to your knees, and have another heartwrenching cry with your face in her lap.

You’ve denied yourself love and mercy for days, expecting to be expelled or shamed or ridiculed, but mercy is what you’re offered now, even after you’ve sinned.

The abbess caresses your hair just as softly as König did just days ago, and the fact that her kind gesture reminds you of some silly, infatuated soldier, only makes the breakdown worse. You bawl like a little child who’s deprived of candy, and you don’t even have the strength to berate yourself for it.

“I hope you haven’t done anything irredeemable...?”

“No... Nothing happened,” you sob and look out of the rose window, desperate for sun while your head rests on a gentle but distant lap.

Nothing happened except the most sinful, beautiful, lustful kiss of your life... Nothing happened except that you saw this man every time you could, held hands with him, swam in his smiles and affection, and went to bed with thoughts inappropriate for any human being.

“The world tests us in many ways... But Lord never tests us. He only loves us.”

Something in that sentence finally quenches the neverending flow of tears. Your muscles start to relax, and you remember that this is the eternal truth: to surrender, over and over again, to a power far greater than you.

The abbess never asks for details about what you have done. She never tells you you have sinned; you don’t need to be told that. The punishment has been dealt already: whoever ties herself to this world and its temptations will suffer exactly like this when the passion and excitement ends. The key to escaping its grip is to simply let go first, once and for all, surrender to the love of God, and trust that everything fill fall into place eventually.

“You must offer your mind and body to work now,” the motherly voice speaks above you. “Work, time and prayer will ease your pain.”

…

Work, time and prayer do ease the pain.

They ease all pains, but it takes almost six months to stop thinking about him every hour of every day.

You’re proud of yourself when you find out one day that you haven’t thought about him at all. He just now crossed your mind when you remember how he used to smell: of salty seabreeze mixed with intoxicating musk, the scent of excitement and safety all in one.

You could almost swear you catch a whiff of that particular scent in the yard when you go and water the flowers one evening, but it can’t be: he’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you even want to do about it because you already made your choice. This path leads you to greater peace of mind in the long run, and you know you made the right decision even if it hurt you and König.

Sunsets still remind you of him, the colour of rose and gold mixed with endings, but the memories are now laced with bittersweet love rather than blunt despair and pain. The times you spent with him are a collection of brief, blissful moments, and you treasure every single one of them in your heart. You still pray for him, not every day, but nearly every day. You touch the rose when the hurt reaches its peak, but the last time you did that was almost a week ago.

And you thought you had forgotten his scent, but apparently, you have not. In fact, it seems to drift to your nose again, which is odd because you’re outside, after all…

“Kätzchen.”

A whisper is hissed from the shadows just as you’re about to straighten and investigate, because either you’re going crazy or then there’s someone here who smells exactly like him.

You startle and almost drop the watering can, staring straight into the shadows under your window. The tallest man you’ve ever seen steps out from the dark in full combat gear, and while you can’t see his face because it’s covered with a draping black hood, you recognize it’s him simply from the way he moves.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me,” he rasps and tries to straighten from the slightly hunched position he’s in, but immediately falls back, then slants to lean on the wall. His gear is dirty, and he holds the side of his stomach with one hand, the lively blue eyes either drunk or very very tired.

“Dear God… What happened to you?”

You abandon the watering can and rush to him; it’s useless to ask if he’s injured when, clearly, he’s trying to prevent himself from slumping to the ground.

He’s enormous and intimidating even when wounded, a soldier loaded with ammo and weapons and protective paddings and guards, wearing a hood and a helmet and a radio of some sort, his tactical gloves bloody and eyes droopy. The weapon by his side is almost half as tall as you, and God – is that a grenade strapped to his vest?

“I got compromised,” König looks down at the wound but doesn’t remove his hand. He looks so different, like another man entirely when he’s not dressed in his customary olive green pants and a casual black t-shirt. He seems even buffier now, even taller, so terrifying that you wonder if you ever even knew this man.

You must look like a frightened deer because König mistakes your horrified look as sweet, simple concern.

“Don’t worry... They have it much worse, I assure you,” he says with his usual grin – you can hear it from the way he says it that he’s smiling. But it’s so weary now, so exhausted and frail compared to his confident, playful laughs and that husky voice with which he spoke to you after your kiss.

“I came to ask for help,” he continues under his breath, wobbling even when leaning against a wall. “You’re the only one I can… trust.”

“Of course, anything. I will do anything I can.”

His eyes smile down at you from behind the executioner’s veil. It’s that same devoted stare you’ve been trying to dispel for months now. You give yourself a quick mental shake, then tell him to wait here while you go in and call for an ambulance.

König bounces off the wall and seizes your hand, telling you he can’t go to a hospital and that, if anything, he must avoid any kind of public places. You don’t ask any further questions, even if you know you’re in a pickle now, and not only because those glacial eyes are making your knees weak again. There’s nothing much you can do: he’s wounded and still in danger, saying he can’t trust anyone else. Of course you have to help him in any way you can. If he says it’s not safe, then you must help him get somewhere where it is safe.

And besides, aren’t you a nun? You’re supposed to help those in need.

So when he asks you if there are any motels or a bed & breakfast nearby, you say you know just the place.

It makes your heart bleed that König takes support from you while you slowly make your way down the street. A man of his size, a body trained to withstand whatever his job throws at him, seeking support from a frail little nun… It’s a joke, indeed, and a horrid one.

When you get to the small place run by a humble old man, you don’t know who to feel more sorry for: the elder behind the counter or König, desperately trying to stay on his feet.

“I mean no trouble,” he says while pushing an unnerving amount of money across the table. “I just need a place to rest.”

The receptionist’s eyes dart to you, then back to König, who still has what you suppose is a loaded rifle dangling by his waist. The safety is on, probably, but there are also knives and grenades strapped to his person, and with that hood, he mainly looks like a terrorist of some sort.

“She’s here to help. See...? Bride of Christ. Even less trouble than I am.”

You try to smile reassuringly as the man risks a better look at you now instead of being fixated on König or his weapons.

You must make an odd pair, a soldier and a nun... The old man probably has a ton of questions in his head right now.

“No shooting,” he says to you, but his words are directed at König.

“No shooting,” he promises. “No mess if no one knows we’re here. Ok...? You’ve never even seen us.”

The receptionist nods. Then he extends a trembling hand and takes the money, and hands out a key without taking any check-in information.

You go to König and help him up the small stairs and into his room paid with bloody money and a menacing appearance. The fitted carpet is old, and floral patterned, the room small and adorable and meant for visitors far more petite than König. The bedspread is old-fashioned and floral too and has never even seen blood, of that you are sure when König lays himself down with a grunt.

You spend the next minutes – or hours, you can’t tell – in a tunnel-visioned fog as you do exactly as he says.

You help him out of his gear and weapons and lay them aside quickly but gently, you cut his shirt with an ugly-looking knife, then get a watered towel for him to press against the wound. You rush back to his tactical vest and search for a first aid kit and some medicine, and start to treat his wounds per his advice.

The sun sets in the window, and you patch up your injured soldier with care, trusting his word when he says it’s only a flesh wound and that it looks far worse than it is.

“I should get shot more often,” he purrs when you’re cleaning the rest of the blood off his skin.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scold, trying to focus on your task and not the vast plates that make his chest. Or the thick abs, right there under your fingertips… Or the fact that he has incredibly narrow hips, and a luscious breath of dark hair leading from his navel down and underneath the waistband of his pants.

You suppose this is what your friend calls a happy trail...

And it does make you very happy.

You don’t dare to look beyond that because the pants he usually wears aren’t as tight as these, and you fear he’ll catch you checking out his junk in an attempt to see if your friend was correct about his size.

To your blessing – or your curse – you don’t even have to look straight at it to see he’s having an erection. You can actually see from the corner of your eye how König grows hard while you’re treating him – it’s right there, a robust tent that rises beside you while you concentrate on wiping off the blood.

“Pay no mind to that,” he says thickly and completely without shame. “It just happens… Can’t control it.”

He breathes a bit too heavy for someone who’s lying down, and you fear it’s because of the blood loss. But then you start to suspect it’s probably because all the remaining blood has gone between his legs… He doesn’t even try to tone down the heated, obsessive stares he shoots your way, and you suppose he’s either missed you very much, or then there’s a fever rising after all. You’re not sure if you’re glad or disappointed that the bullet didn’t scrape his leg instead.

“I missed you,” he says like he just read your thoughts. He whispers the sentence slowly and with purpose, saying it like a long-withheld secret.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back.

Gosh… Here you are, a silly little nun who’s tried to get over a crush for six months, crying after him at night and caressing his rose during the day. You’ve been petting a withering flower some mercenary gave you in hopes of getting into your pants, you’ve fawned over memories of a few smiles and a kiss, all the while the said mercenary has killed people for money and now got shot. He came here to work again, but never sent a message, he only came to see you when he was injured…

...And you’re glad he did. If a bullet was needed to bring him back to you, then you’re grateful for it, no matter how horrible it is.

“Did you ever… find someone?” You ask while keeping your gaze fixed on his navel instead of the raging bulge in his pants.

“Someone, who?”

“Someone to hold hands with.”

He gives a strained laugh. “Ah. No. No time for that.”

You swallow, and slowly guide your eyes to his.

“Are you still happy with your crucified man?”

Ouch.

“I… I don’t know.”

His brows knit together; you can see it even in the dim light of the table lamp, you can see it even if there’s some godforsaken black war paint all over his face under that hood.

There’s a distant hurt in his eyes before he blinks softly, slowly.

“I wrote to you, Braut Christi... Many times. Never sent the letters… They’re still in my room, at the base.”

Your heart skips a beat.

He hasn’t had “time” for women, yet has written you letters all these months. He’s written letters while you’ve caressed a rose….

You wonder if hearts can find each other, even through a distance, and if you’ve felt the urge to go to the flower he gave you at the same time König has gotten the desire to write another letter to you. It’s bittersweet, like this whole thing between you two, the mystery that both brings you together and rips you apart.

“I wish I hadn’t… I wish I...” you start, but can’t bring yourself to finish.

“Liebling. I should’ve sent them anyway.”

You go get rid of the bloodied paper towels before you start to cry in front of him.

God… You’re not only in a pickle, you’re neck-deep in trouble, and you only notice you forgot to wash your hands when you return to him.

He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Peace settles in, even if there’s blood on your hands and the man you adore is lying next to you, patched up with the help of a first aid kit when he should be lying in a hospital, receiving treatment and care.

There’s a knife and a pistol tucked under the bedspread, next to his hand, and the fact that he’s still prepared to fight anyone who tries to come through that door underlines the fact that you two come from very different worlds. König is more than just a rose buying, coffee offering gentleman, he's more than just a silly guy who threatens to sing serenades under your window if you don’t come out to play with him.

You’re not sure if you’re more enamoured or scared.

“You’re an angel,” he rasps from the bed as you try to swallow the tears that refuse to go down.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

A teardrop falls on the innocent floral bedspread as you wish you were in this room as a married couple instead of an injured, horny soldier and a childish nun in love. Spending your honeymoon or something, getting some rest after an eventful day in town, choosing this absurd old Bed & Breakfast as your place to stay for the night.

You wish you were doing anything else than treating his wounds, lethal or not.

“Are you crying?”

His voice is gentler than you even remembered. Six months of despair have turned him into a dark, alluring trickster when he’s really just a man, a big, amazing, tender man who’s multifaceted, multitalented, and always kind.

He's about to fall asleep, and it’s no wonder. The events of the evening have left you drained, too. You kneel beside his bed, too tired to even sit on a chair, wondering if he’ll die from his wounds tonight or get hunted down by the people who still want him dead.

“I wish you would stop killing people... I wish you would stop getting killed.”

You must look silly, kneeling beside a giant soldier’s bed, crying and holding his hand between yours as if praying. But his eyes smile at you, and while you’d want nothing more than to see his face again, you realise you kind of like König this way. Masked and menacing and mean to his enemies, but stripped down to his soul when he’s with you.

“I wish you would stop praying... And start living,” he mutters gently.

“Praying helps sometimes,” you whisper.

In truth, you wish you’d start living, too. You always thought you were brave when you said ‘no’ to the world. Perhaps you were only running away from it…

The hand is warm but not feverish. His breaths start to even, and his lids get heavier; his thumb gives you a small caress before he drifts off to sleep.

“Perhaps that’s why I’m still here, Kätzchen.”

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig x you #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x fem reader

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reallyromealone · 11 months ago

Text

Title: growing

Fandom: twisted wonderland

Pairing: Lilia vanrouge x reader

Warnings: omegaverse, Omega male reader, alpha Lilia, baby malleus, married life, slight au, fluff

Notes: none

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

Lilia smiled at his mate, the Omega guarding their little egg so well in their nest "hello starlight..~" (name) let Lilia kiss his fingers before the former knight now king interlaced them "how are you fairing..?" His voice tender as (name) gently traced his fingers on the egg "he's almost ready" (name) whispered with hushed excitement and Lilia looked fondly at his mate, the dragon fae having been communicating with the egg.

"Our little malleus is already so strong~" he cooed at the newborn hatchling who snuggled into (name), still to young to be out of dragon from as he needed warmth consistently from (name) till his own flame grew within "he's very curious.." (name)s voice soft and delicate as he scratched under the dragons chin "Soon I'll teach him how to light things on FIRE" the calm Omega has a manic grin on his face and Lilia looked fondly at his mate as their son nibbled on (name)s finger, no fangs yet but that was to be expected.

Lilia never expected the firstborn Omega son to fall for him, the royal family though very active for their people were fairly reclusive in nature and the fact he rejected any and all suitors to pursue Lilia as in fae culture; omegas pursued their desired mate.

"Malleus we don't bite" (name) chastised his little pup who made a little hissing noise and stomped his front paws angrily "behave little hatchling" Lilia lifted the little dragon who looked frustrated at his tiny little legs as he made little sounds "yes yes, I know little one" Lilia was so sweet this life he helped create, he loved his precious son so much.

It wasn't till Malleus was around a year old when he could finally transform, tumbling to follow his parents around "papapapapa!" He said happily as he chased down Lilia, the king smiling at the boy who clung to his legs "my my, hello spitfire" Lilia grinned before leaning down to the boy who bonked his tiny horned head against his, apparently it was a draconic way of greeting, precious though the horns didn't feel great.

But Lilia would never complain.

"You have been getting very fast these days, soon papa won't be able to keep up~" Lilia lifted malleus into his arms and continued his walk, Malleus babbling as they walked down the endless halls.

"Let's see what your Dam is up to, yes?"

#lilia x male reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

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citruswriter · 7 months ago

Note

imagine raphs partner scenting him now that theyre together

scenting is the thing were cats rub themselves alllll over you to get their scent on you, like just imagine raphs gf aggressively nuzzling him while cuddling

imagine leos partner wearing a collar in his colour now that their dating

just the canine instinct to make it obvious whose pack their apart of, and whats more obvious than wearing his colour around their neck

mikey partner whistling to him and “preening” him (polishing and cleaning his shell)

most birds have a call and response whistle or tune for their mates and mikeys partner would definitely do that. polishing his shell and repainting the kanji on his shell

donnies partner absent mindedly having their antenna seek him out

moths use their antenna to smell, so naturally donnies partner’s antenna would lean in his general direction

Animal Love

Listen in with me! ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

A/N: Love how I said I was finishing the series and ya'll pull up like "but how about no?". 😭😂

Previous Part

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a wolf neko, Reader has golden eyes.

It started as a joke. Vern had gotten you a dog collar in a pretty blue. It was cute and you gave a good laugh, until you saw the heart medallion, your name engraved on the front and the words if lost, please return to Leonardo Hamato on the back. Both you and Leo had been shocked but laughed none the less. Until he noticed you wearing it. You brushed it off, saying it was cute so why let it rot in your dresser? But you kept wearing it more and more. So finally Leo questioned you.

"Well um... it kinda ties into the whole canine thing?" You said, fiddling with the heart on your collar. "You know, make it obvious who's pack I belong to. Usually this would be done with things like scent. But not everybody would be able to just smell you on me. So the collar is a bit more obvious. Kinda itches my canine urges the right way". Leo just tilted his head, staring at the ceiling for a few moments in thought before nodding slowly. "O-kay. Yeah that make's sense. You essentially want people to know who you belong to." He pondered and you perked up, tail wagging. "Yeah! That's right! But also, if it makes you uncomfortable. I-I can take it off." You sputtered, eager to please him. Leo looked down at you, blue meeting gold and he just laughed. "No lotus, it's ok. I was just curious. That's all". He said before pressing a kiss to your lips.

You hummed against him, happily wagging your tail before pulling back. "Anyways," he said before sweeping your feet out from underneath you. You wheezed out a cough as your back smashed against the dojo floor. "Lesson two. Never get distracted".

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Raphael x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a cat neko, angy kitty.

He had been gone for three days. Three days! And when he came back, the scent you worked so hard to leave on him was gone. How rude. So as soon as Raph sat down you lept into action. You huffed angrily as you crawled into his lap, aggressively rubbing your head and tail against him. Every time he moved too much, a growl would erupt from your throat and you'd just bonk him more aggressively.

"Work so hard. And then you just leave. Now I gotta do it all over again. Stupid fucking- It's all gone." You kept muttering as you worked. Raph just laid there utterly confused as you did whatever you were doing. Eventually he got on his phone to google whatever you were doing. "Oh your cute, babydoll." He laughed and you glared at him. "You're scenting me?" He asked and you glared. "Yes I am now hold still. Because the scent I worked so hard to leave on you is gone and I need to start all over again!" You seethed, utterly exasperated. Raph just held his hands up in surrender before placing them on your thighs.

"Don't act like you don't do it too." You growled, staring at him before bonking your head against his plastron and aggressively rubbing your scent all over him. Raph felt his cheeks heat up at the call out. He just let you scent him until you were satisfied. He could tell you were done when you pulled back, nose twitching, and you gave a nod with a proud smile. Raph just chuckled and pulled you closer to him, kissing you softly. "My turn". And before you could protest, he was all over you, returning the favor while you squirmed and giggled.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Donatello x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a moth mutant, eepy babies.

It had been another late night. Casey had asked Donnie to work on a new project for the NYPD and Donnie had been tinkering away for literally hours. You tried your best to stay up with him but the day had been long and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep. Your arms supported your head as you snoozed on his lab table. Donnie would occasionally look over at you to check in on you, sometimes stroking your hair or kissing your forehead. But hours later and he had yet to touch you again. He got so wrapped up that he stopped checking in on you, tunnel visioned on his project.

He looked over at you when he heard you whine. He moved his goggles up and noticed that you were still asleep but your antenna kept moving. He watched curiously as they twitched and wandered. You groaned and moved your body, almost as if you were about to wake up. Slowly, he brought his hand closer, allowing your antenna to find his hand and brush their fibers against his scales. Your wings fluttered softly and you instantly stilled. You had been searching for him. Even in your sleep, you were reaching out to him. He allowed the antenna to poke him and brush around his hand as he got out the notebook dedicated to his study of you and scribbled down some notes.

"Donnie?" Your groggy voice came and your lovely boyfriend looked over at you, eyes cracked open and arms stretching. You were barely awake and it was absolutely precious. "Yes little one?" He questioned, grabbing your hand and brushing your knuckles over with his thumb. "Mm. Bedtime?" Was all you came back with. Donnie glanced at his work before sighing. You heard him shift before you felt your body being picked up, melodic clicks erupting from your throat, causing the purple terrapin to chirp back in response. You smiled softly and nuzzled into him, whining softly as he set you down in bed but settling after he joined you not too long after. "Hush you". He whispered, pulling you close to him. You giggled, antenna and hands already seeking him out. You hummed as he placed a gentle kiss to your lips, you sleepily kissing him back. As the sun began to rise on New York City, you and your nocturnal boyfriend found peace in each other's embrace.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Mikey x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader has large feathered white wings, Reader has long elf-like ears, sickeningly sweet sappy love (I love this man).

Mikey perked up as he heard a whistling noise echo brought the lair. "Hey angelcakes!" He called out before he had even seen you. A chorus of happy chirps was then heard before you bounded into view. "Hello, my love." You said, your voice a slight sing song. "Dude how did you know that was (Y/N)". Raph asked and Mikey rolled his eyes. "Come on brother, do you know nothing about birds?" He asked, already knowing the answer. He felt your arms wrap around his neck from behind as you leaned over the couch. Leaning back into your touch, you churred and nuzzled into him, ears twitching.

It wasn't long before you started to pick at the dirt on his shell and rubbing at it with your palm. He sighed. When the two of you got together, you became more comfortable touching him in general. But he soon noticed that you would start to pick at his shell and fuss over him in that avian way of yours if it ever got too dirty. This was your equivalent of you preening him and he enjoyed it, just not in the middle of trying to bet his brother's ass at COD. "Hey baby," he spoke up, making you pause and look up, "Let me finish this game ok? After that we can go to my room and I'll be all yours." You immediately perked up, wings fluffing in excitement before you skipped your way to his room to get everything set up.

A few minutes later, he finally joined you and he could tell you were holding back any further bird noises. He laughed and sat down. "Go at it, starburst". He encouraged and you immediately sprang into action. You began to gently scrub at his shell, chipping away the old paint on his shell before. Before long he heard you singing. Avian noises and humming left your throat softly in a pattern that would only come forward when you were with him in private. You took a gentle soap to clean at his shell before wiping it off with a warm wash cloth. He relaxed into your touch, churring softly and creating a sort of duet with you.

Grabbing the paint you looked at the symbol he always had on that shell of is in your phone. You practiced it so many times but you still had it just in case. Carefully you repainted the symbol onto his shell. When you finished, you and him softly spoke to each other. Gossiping about the latest drama and softly whispering tender love to each other.

Once the paint had dried, you grabbed the concoction you called his shell polish you spread it, the cold liquid making Mikey shiver. You spread it, taking your time and being thorough. You leaned up and kissed his shoulder before sinking back on to your knees. "Doing ok?" You murmured softly and Mikey nodded. "Perfect, angel," he cooed back. He always enjoyed moments like this. As much as he loved being the energetic jokester that never calmed down and couldn't take life seriously even if it strangled him, the calm and tender moments the two of you shared meant the world to him. "Gonna start waxing." You said softly before getting back to work. More time passed by before your whole process of "preening" him was finished.

"All done". You finally chirped and Mikey sighed softly. You laid down on his bed, opening up your arms to him with a soft pout. Mikey just crawled into your arms and laid on your chest. "So how long you gonna stay this calm?" You asked with a laugh and Mikey pinched your side, causing you to squeal and giggle. "Maybe fifteen minutes max. Got a lot of energy today". He mused, nuzzling into you. "Love you so much, Mikey". You said with an endearing smile and Mikey smiled back up at you. "I love you too, angel." He said, pressing a kiss to your lips. But he pinched your side again and you pulled back to glare at him. "I lied. I'm energetic again right now."

This is so tooth rottingly sweet and cringy. I love it. Please rot ur teeth with me. Donatello and Mikey my beloveds.

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zarkishere · 5 months ago

Text

RDR2 RELATIONSHIP CHART!

free to use, just credit me if you do :) (also tag me if you use it for rdr2 oc's i'd love that hehe)

Young Jack ver ⤴️

Old Jack ver ⤵️

notes cuz i love overthinking shit :

EVERYONE except Micah, Sadie and Kieran have both little hair thingies

for Micah it's cuz....yknow. he's not really part. he's the rat. doesn't even have one of the two.

For Sadie and Kieran they have 1 since they are part of the gang, they just happened to join later

I changed some people's design a little bit but it's minor changes that don't mean much just me fixing up stuff

Molly and Grimshaw's eye-makeup-thingies are the same (cuz yknow. Dutch.) Molly's hair doesn't naturally do the Little Hair Thing, she has to do it every morning, hence why it's...oddly curly (this time not because she's not part of the gang, but because she feels the need to have it. maybe Dutch will love her if she does. if she's like the rest.)

I decided to make older Jack have a few things from other characters who are theorized to be his dad (lol. i don't believe those theories just for the record, i think Jack is John's kid, i just like stirring the pot HJKASJKHASGASG)

Jenny is like that cuz we never see her apart from a drawing, so i thought i should make her all sketchy and silly

Mac is. a fucking square. we never see that mf.

Karen has 3 freckles instead of 3 cuz she's quirky and not like the other girls (no but fr)

i tried to keep it right side people who would agree most with Dutch after Dutch...? if that makes sense? so yknow Micah is first, then Bill, etc. from the left side is the people who agreed the most with Arthur/John...so Hosea, Charles, lenny, etc.

Arthur facing John, Hosea facing Dutch, Charles facing Micah is on purpose teehee (Kieran is also kinda facing Mary-Beth but you can call bullshit and i'll accept it)

Jack is the only boyo between the women cuz he stands with his momma

i thought Arthur and John's hat bonking was p funny

idk what else to say, i've probably forgoren a lot but idc so...

these designs are 100% not perfect but i am p satisfied with most overall, lemme know what you think!

also....

i don't have any fucking clue why person's eyes are the only ones like that please someone fix him whats wrong with him help get him eye contacts or something PLEASE--

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cottonlemonade · 7 months ago

Note

Hello, may I please get a ramune and soke dorayaki from menu B for tendou

Please, and thank you

🫱💴

Here, meney

How You Met

word count: 997 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: rival!Tendou x chubby!Reader (feat. Semi and Ushijima as wingmen)

genre: fluff, rivals to lovers

warnings: mentions of having a nosebleed?

request: fluffy, detention with rival Tendou, as manager

Tendou loved riling people up. To him, volleyball was as much about psychological warfare as it was about physical abilities and he particularly enjoyed testing out a new person’s limits. So when the local university’s volleyball team announced that they brought their newly appointed manager, he was delighted to have a fresh study subject. Did he think you were cute? Absolutely. Being quite a bit shorter than him, as well as plump and squishy looking, he immediately focused his attention on you and tested how much teasing it would take to get you to snap at him. He was a simple boy that way. What he didn’t expect, however, was a bloody nose and being shoved into an empty classroom with you.

“You can’t just give me detention! He started it! And I don’t even go to this school!”, you called through the closed door but no one answered.

“Yeah, old Washijo has quite the trigger finger.”, Tendou shrugged, slumping on his chair and leaning his head back to stop the bleeding.

“You pack quite the punch, little plum.”

“Don’t call me that unless you want me to have another go at that nose.”, you grumbled, slumping down on a chair two desks away from him. He just laughed and sighed. It really hadn’t taken long for him to be completely in love.

“So, is that guy your boyfriend?”

“Huh?”

“That guy I talked about that made you sucker punch me.”

“That was hardly a sucker punch.”

Tendou tensed a little that you avoided the question but he kept poking further.

“Then… That big beefy guy with the babyface - you aren’t together?”

You looked at him, arms crossed.

“No. We’re friends. - And I’m protective of my friends.”

“Yeah I could tell.” He stretched his face and removed the whatted up piece of tissue from his nose, tipping back his chair on its hind legs.

It seemed you were quite hellbent on ignoring him until the 30 minute timeout was over. Meanwhile, the red haired boy studied you openly, finding more things he liked about you with every minute. Like the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance when you noticed him staring.

“What?”, you barked.

“Nothing. Ever considered dating someone younger than you? I’m perfectly legal, organic and grass-fed.”

“Organic and grass-fed…? Do you want me to eat you?”, you frowned confused.

“We can start with a normal date and see where the night takes us.”, he said with a wink.

After that you pretended he was air until the captain of the varsity team came to collect you.

“Uuuuugh!”, Tendou repeatedly bonked his head against the table at lunch the next day. His friends regarded him with questioning looks.

“Grass-fed! What was I thinking?”, he lamented with a muffled voice.

“Yeah, what were you thinking?”, Semi asked with a raised brow.

“I don’t know! My brain just… stopped working. I couldn’t control what I was saying.” The middle blocker turned his head to the side, looking up at his friends, cheek still smooshed against the table.

“So, you can’t flirt. You’ll get better and the next girl might not even punch you.”, Semi said encouragingly but Tendou pouted.

“But I don’t want another girl. I want this one.”, he sat up, eying Semi who just lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth but stopped.

“What?”

“How do you get girls to go out with you, Semi-Semi? You dress horribly and it really can’t be your personality.”

Semi ignored the slight and just raised a hand to gesture at his face.

“Does it all for me.”

“Ugh.” Tendou dropped back onto the table.

“May I make a suggestion?”, Ushijima offered, setting down his water bottle.

“Sure.”

“Like with many things in life you could draw inspiration from nature. So I suggest, you do it like animals.”

Goshiki choked on a piece of tofu and Semi let out a scandalized, “Ushijima-san!”, patting the first-year next to him on his back.

Tendou straightened again and raised a hand, “Wait, let’s hear the man out. - Proceed.”

“A lot of animals bring gifts to their potential mates such as rocks or even food as courtship. You don’t have to bring her rocks unless she finds them fascinating but food seems like a reasonable start.”

“See, it was nothing weird. Dirty mind, you!”, Tendou teased and Semi put a hand to his chin in thought.

“As crazy as he sounds, that is actually a good idea.”, the setter agreed.

One week later when the varsity team came for another training match, Tendou waited for you by the entrance of the gym, rolling back and forth on his heels in nervousness.

You scowled when you saw him.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, y/n-chan?”

“I don’t remember ever offering you to drop formalities.”

“Alright, little plum-san. Do you have a minute?”

You sighed and nodded to the captain who led the team into the gym, leaving you behind.

After taking a deep breath he brought his hands out in front of him and presented you with a box of chocolates.

“They’re not poisoned.”, he said.

“Well that’s reassuring.”, you carefully took the box into your hand and opened the lid.

They looked a bit crooked like they had been a factory mishap.

“I made them.”, Tendou added and your eyes widened. Okay, so far so good. He just had to stick to the script he and his friends came up with.

“I’m sorry for last week. I’ll make sure not to annoy your players verbally anymore. Or insinuate that one of them looks like a third grader in the body of an accountant. But… I really did mean it when I asked you out. I think you’re really pretty and”, he chuckled and brushed the tip of his nose, “really strong.”

You considered him for a moment, then looked down at the chocolates again. It must have taken him hours to make those.

“Fine. One coffee.”

a/n: the way you wrote your request made me laugh xD thank you so much! I hope you liked it - this one got a bit wild 🫠

#sunnys school lunches #tendou x chubby reader #tendou x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #tendo x reader #tendo x chubby reader #hq tendo #haikyuu tendo #tendou fluff #hq tendou #haikyuu tendou #tendou satori #tendo satori #haikyuu x curvy reader

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loudclan-clangen · 5 months ago

Note

sort of an out of the blue ask, but I remember when Weed was first introduced, she and Tundrafrost were said to be old friends and they were being pretty touchy and blushy with each other and Chickadeeblur seemed kinda jealous. Did they actually have a thing for each other, or did Chickadee just misinterpret it that way?

…also I can imagine Weed sort of being the wine aunt to Tundra’s kids and that’s cute to me lol

Tundrafrost and Weed did in fact "have a thing" in their much younger years. Tundrafrost and Chickadeeblur didn't grow up in the valley, and throughout their journey to it Tundra had many non-serious flings, of which Weed was one. When Weed was looking for a place to settle down for her old lady years, she reached out to Tundrafrost, whom welcomed her to the clan. Chickadeeblur had no real reason to be jealous, as she has no interest in taking a mate at this age, and the three are very good friends now. You're so right though, they definately do a kid trade where Tundra and Chickadee get to enjoy Cavepaw's baby phase and take him exploring out of camp to get his energy out while Weed settles down to talk Kingfur, Sockeyepelt, and Chumpaw through their standard teenager drama.

*bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk* *bonk*

hehe, love it!

I try to keep the names the game gives me if it doesn't contradict with the setting. Things like "Owl", "Weed", "Jagged", or "Fierce" while not being Alaska specific are things or ideas that would be accessible to the cats and therefore I leave those. But names that do contradict or just seem boring to me I do try to change to something similar but more specific. Sand -> Silt, Chicken -> Chickadee, Prarie -> Tundra, Dog -> Dogwood, etc. It's not that any of these couldn't exist in nature in alaska, they just didn't feel like they fit the story at this point. In the first couple of hundred moons I tried to make sure that litters were named thematically based off of the oldest kit's name and their parent's personality, but after time this just became too much work and I think the random names are fun too. That's why the Tundra x Chickadee babies are all types of salmon and the healer kits all have long plant names. Some themes are definately looser than others. I do definately change the sillier names and try to balance out the "weird", for example, the fish babies all have pretty plain suffixes because their prefixes are pretty out-there and nothing else seemed to pair very well with them. "Kingflight" is just a little much, to my ear at least. Also the healer kits will have short suffixes because their prefixes are so long and just from a purely mechanical standpoint I can't fit "Dogwoodcaterpillar" or "Rosehiptadpole" in a comic panel.

Thank you! And go for it! I'd love to see people use my ideas in their own ways! If you want to give a little "insert idea inspired by @loudclan-clangen" I'd appreciate it a ton, (mostly cause I want to go see what you guys are making), but if not that's totally fine. I'm definitely not the first person to do a lineage challenge, but I'm glad that you like my system!

#loudclanasks #loudclan #clangen

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obae-me · 2 years ago

Text

The OM Characters and How They Hug

Just a lil bit of fluff for me and for you in these trying times

Lucifer:

Softly yet protectively. With a relaxed arm curved around the shoulder-blades and one protecting the back of the neck, his hand settled behind the head. As the eldest of his brothers, he is well used to making someone feel safe. He might not do this as often as he used to in the Celestial Realm, but there are still occasions where his brothers come to him for one of these hugs. It’s a hug that tells you he’ll take care of it. No matter the problem, no matter the worry, settle it on his shoulders. His pride can handle it. Sometimes he’ll even unfurl his wings to shelter the person he’s hugging, shielding them from the world, making sure they can’t be seen in their moment of vulnerability.

Mammon:

Tightly and passionately. Most of the time it’ll be a simple squeeze, standing side by side with whoever he’s accompanying, an arm around their back as he pulls them against him, shoulders shrugging up against each other, his head lightly bonking against theirs as he grins. But if it’s serious, he’ll pull whoever it is close and tight, his arms slipping under theirs, hands grasping at the back of their clothing as he clings to them. His emotions are always open to everyone, even if he tries to hide it. Whoever Mammon is hugging knows exactly how they feel for him, they can feel it in the burning warmth of his body, in every twitching muscle that holds them to him. Everything about his hugs screams ‘I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere’.

Levi:

Nervously but assuring. He constantly shifts on his feet, his arms moving till they settle wherever feels best, more natural, which usually has his head somewhere near or on their shoulder. Sometimes he’ll even have his tail wrap around their waist. He feels like he’s not good at this, like he’s the last person to go to for a hug. There have to be better options but...whoever it was came to him. He can’t...he doesn’t want to pass up on this opportunity. He isn’t the third oldest and strongest of his siblings for nothing. He can mostly only think on the negative, but sometimes that can come in handy. At least it could be worse. Remember that time when they felt even more awful? At least this wasn’t that moment. At least they were here...with him...together.

Satan:

Curiously and surprisingly shakily. He’s wrath and yet he’s been sought out for comfort. He can’t help but wonder why. He hugs simply at first with his arms around their back, his hands clasped behind their body. Yet, he’s a bit...unsteady with it. He’s not a natural at this, and yet...he doesn’t mind it. He turns curious, his arms slowly shifting, tightening ever so slightly till he’s satisfied. Is this helping? He’s better at more logically solving problems than embracing, but...this is fine. It’s nice being depended on every once and a while, being wanted for something calm. He’s more used to holding cats, not people, so whoever it is might be surprised (or not so surprised) to find he’ll start stroking the back of their head in a slow rhythm, his fingers scratching at the base of their skull.

Asmo:

Lovingly and lightly. His arms wrap up around their shoulders, twirling his fingers in the ends of their hair. His hands explore, finding all the tight spots in their body and trying to rub it out of them in little circles. He’s a wonderful source of hugs. Every touch of his feels delicate and intentional. He even seems to know certain pressure points to alleviate some tension, leaving the brain tingling. In his arms, they’re loved, they’re wanted. Breathe it in calmly. Feel the heart beat. Feel the feeling in your limbs. Focus on the brilliant sensations the body possesses. Distract the mind. Live in the now. Here, with him, they are pampered, admired, beautiful.

Beel:

Bone-crushingly tight and supportive. The recipient might not be able to breathe for a minute, but he’ll eventually adjust his own strength, still hugging whoever it is as tightly as they can manage. He likes to cover as much of the person he’s holding as he can, chin on their head if they’re shorter than him, which most are. If they’re taller than him, they should be ready to find themselves pushed down a little to feel smaller. Most times he’ll even pick them up a little off the ground. They can feel easy in his arms. He’ll support them, he’ll carry them, he’ll do whatever it takes to make them feel better. Just tell him what he has to do, or he can simply stand here longer, holding them even tighter.

Belphie:

Lazily but comforting. He’ll drape his arms over them if he even moves his arms at all. Most times he simply leans into whoever it is, letting them do the holding. Stay into the hug too long, and it’ll turn into a full out cuddle, almost forcing whoever it is to lie down with him and stay a while. If he has to lie directly on them to keep them from moving, he will. It’s his own way of supporting, of caring. His tail might wrap around their ankles to keep them from walking away. His yawns are infectious, making the other person yawn. His soft breathing slowly seeps its way into their lungs, making them breathe deeply and calmly. And, if he’s determined enough, he’ll slowly use his sin to lull them to sleep. Only when they’re not fully awake will he wrap his arms around whoever it is, his head rubbing up against their shoulder or chest.

Diavolo:

Strongly and shielding. Despite not having the opportunity very often, anytime it is presented to him, he takes it in stride. He’ll scoop whoever it is up into his arms, curving his large body over them, surrounding them, making them feel like nothing could get to them while he is there. His hold is strong, unwavering, a hand firmly on the back. He will not let go until the time is right. Sometimes he might even laugh, even if the situation feels dreary. He just has so much joy to share, and being here, comforting someone, it makes him happier than they can even imagine. His positivity tends to pool into others. His positive and hopeful outlook shining through the darkest of thoughts.

Barbatos:

Politely yet firm. His hands typically settle on their shoulders, going no further, pulling them against him. Only occasionally, if he feels it’s needed, will his hands reach around their back. His fingers hold on surprisingly tightly. They won’t slip from him, or rather, he will not let them go. Sure, he might feel like it’s his duty to uphold peace in the kingdom, but truthfully, he can’t handle seeing those he cares for feel so unlike themselves. And if a gesture such as this will alleviate some of that stress, so be it. He might find himself adjusting and fussing over whoever he is holding, smoothing out wrinkles, pulling off stray hairs, dusting off lint, clipping off loose threads. He can’t help it. It is his way of caring for them.

Simeon:

Warmly and soothingly. An angel's duty is to comfort. To spread light and joy. It's something he enjoys doing. He'll hold them gently, the warmth from his Celestial body spreading over them, but not in a suffocating way. He almost feels exactly like the sensation one gets when they wrap themselves in a blanket that had just gotten out of the dryer. His cheek presses somewhere against their head, his hand rubbing up and down their spine. It's immediately comforting and whether it's his power or simply his personality no one knows for certain. People come to him for hugs often, even if they'll never admit it. Hugs from Simeon are almost like a reset, a recharge, returning that drained vitality.

Solomon:

Cautiously yet enveloping. He's not used to people coming to him for hugs. Despite him being alive for who knows how long, he still feels rusty at it. But, of course, if the desire is genuine, who is he to deny something so simple? He hugs like some of those old men who use one arm to pull them in and the other to give them a single pat on the back, but if they need a little more than that, he'll hold onto them longer, trying to remember old memories, feelings of nostalgia for other moments like these that have been long forgotten. Eventually, he'll lean forward, throwing the remaining caution to the wind and hugging them entirely, squeezing hard enough that maybe, this time, the memory will remain forever.

Luke:

Adorably clingy. He may pout and whine about how he's not some cute little angel, he doesn't want to be treated like a child, but of course his hugs make his denials hard to take seriously. He hugs like his life depends on it, like he'll never ever let go, like the only way he'll leave is if you pry him off. He's got surprising strength for his looks. Sometimes, he likes to jump a little right before he holds on so he can wrap his arms around their neck so he doesn't feel so small. Of course, depending on who he's hugging, they might just pick him up anyway which defeats the purpose, but perhaps he can allow it just this once, if it makes whoever he's hugging feel better.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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walnut-tries-too-hard · 1 month ago

Text

Session 6 double up info dump

Ok, so I'm obsessed with this idea. So it's time to share all of my thoughts on this headcannon.

There was a lot of panic, naturally. For one second, they're humans. The next, they're all knew hybrids.

Grian

-Grian had no idea that people's hybrid traits would be affected by the wild card.

-He knew that the animals would all be swapped but, when everything died, Skizz and Scar started freaking the fuck out because Grian all of a sudden didn't have wings.

-There were they dots, and then boom. He's a creeper like Doc.

-How Doc never exploded was an absolute mystery. Just the stress of Skizz and Scar alone nearly made him explode.

Renchanting

-Ren didn't immediately notice that he wasn't a dog. It was after Martyn started to freak tf out that he realized his hearing was VERY different. And he didn't have a tail.

-That was a fairly easy adjustment aside from this new strange instinct to fly??

-For Martyn, he suddenly had to keep himself very chill, lest he burn down their base. Again.

-Everytime Ren was a different hybrid he changed up his full title. Rather than Rendog; there was Renmoth, Rensheep/Renram, Renbird...ect.

-Those are actually all the differnent versions of Ren I went through trying to draw him.

-Martyn spent a lot of time with Tango trying to figure out how to handle the fire.

General/misc.

-Scott went from creaking, to human, to siren. Lovely whiplash. No flashbacks to limited life, what do you mean?

-Tango was struggling the whole session. He was already cold in the overworld but that was helped with jackets and all that. Now he was physically cold and he didn't know how to fix it. Why were overworlders so cold?!

-All of the lifers were used to being red with their typical hybrid traits. The red lives were a little more out of control than usual.

-Many people, such as Tango had to get used to not having a tail. His balance wasn't as bad as say...Impulse. He's a big guy, who'd depending on his tail far more than he thought.

-The very first change up Cleo got was being a dog. I guess you could say...DoggyCleo? (I'll see my way out). Scott jumped at the image of them as a human, as is. As a dog like Ren? Yeah, that was a surprise.

-Joel was just chilling then there was a poof around him and his ogre traits were gone. Not like he noticed. His wolves were dead.

-It was the same case for Bdubs. He was more focused on his horse. three dots and then it felt wrong to be in the sun. It even hurt a little bit. It took Joel looking over to realize he was looking at a phantom hybrid.

-People were willing to help each other to understand being a certain type of hybrid, like I said with Tango helping Martyn, and Scar definitely giving helpful advice to Joel.

-Sheep Ren at some point got stuck with goat Scar and bull Bdubs. They couldn't help from bonking into each other. Explained Zed, Beef, and Doc.

I'm obsessed with this idea, if you can't believe it.

Feel free to leave questions or request about this

#wild life smp #wild life spoilers #headcanon dump #grian #skizzleman #goodtimeswithscar #rendog #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #tangotek #zombiecleo #scott smajor #smallishbeans #bdoubleo100 #text post #Wild life...more li-#renchanting

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simp999 · 1 year ago

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Hi! I saw your requests were open and thought I'd pop in to ask How Would The Mercs Reach To Their S/O Picking Up Phrases Or Slang That They Use! Bonus points if S/O also says phrases in the Mercs' native tongue ^^

THIS IS THE STUFF, PEOPLE!!!! I love this prompts so much oh my gosh, thank you so much for requesting!!! I may have gotten a tad carried away with Sniper's part, whoops..

Merc's Reactions to Their S/O Picking up Words/Phrases/Slang That They Use - drabbles

Total wc: 2.4k

Mercs included: All

Masterlist

Scout:

After being around him for such a long time, it’s not too surprising that sometimes you’d accidentally slip into a bostonian accent for some words. But the first time Scout caught you saying one of his lines was in the middle of battle. - Your two classes didn’t really mesh too well, so you wouldn’t be near each thother too often. Which means that he has no idea how long you’ve been doing this for.

You hadn’t noticed Scout run behind you after noticing you turning a corner. You jumped down from the ledge, spotting an opponent right below you. With a big swing of your weapon and a crit hit that landed perfectly on the back of their head, you shouted:

“Hah! Take that, chucklenuts!”

Scout couldn’t help but laugh at that, feeling pride wash through him. That means you think he’s funny! It’s not a direct complement, but it sure feels like it for him. It probably didn’t help that you yelled “BONK!” as your hit landed, too. It didn’t really matter to him if you guys ended up winning that battle or not, because that was a big enough win for him. (Though, you did end up winning with how much quicker he was on his feet.)

It really just made him fall even more in love with you.

Soldier:

Hearing him go on about war and America so often eventually meant you using references some times, or throwing in a few words relating to those things at times. It’s happened before where your team was right close to losing, so the opposing team felt more lax and confident. You were the start of the comeback, killing their Medic, and shouting:

“It ain’t over 'till it’s over, Maggot!”

Soldier didn’t even catch the fact that you used one of his most common nicknames. It just kinda flew over his head.

Of course, it wasn’t just words and phrases that you’d stolen from him - It’d be wrong to say that you didn’t get a bit more chaotic, too.

The one that struck him right in the face, though, was when you sacrificed yourself for him, while killing multiple enemies. You had shouted “Death before dishonor!” as you did.

It had landed you the victory.

After the battle, he had quickly picked you up and threw you on his shoulders, holding your legs in place as he marched on. He gave you a whole speech about how “YOU DESERVE A MEDAL OF HONOR, CUPCAKE!!”

Pyro:

-Uhhhh

-jk, as if I’d leave my favorite firebug out ;)

Obviously, mimicking any common phrases of theirs wasn’t really possible…but! I can promise you that they only fell harder for you when you started adapting their little tweaks to sign language that they tended to use. One thing that was very common of Pyro to do was to use the short form of “I love you”. They loved the fact that it was so much quicker to do, and easy, and it’s so simple!

There’s a good chance that you weren’t completely fluent in sign language when you first showed up as a merc, so you had Engineer and Pyro gladly help you. So, that’s what made them even more excited to see you pick up on their mannerisms.

Because you knew the right way to do it. Pyro knows this, because they’ve seen you either learn it with Engie, or do it before.

Their favorite thing was seeing how you got more comfortable with sign language with time. Your movements are so much less stiff, and much quicker. It’s almost second nature to you now, and they can’t express how happy it makes them!

Though, lots of cuddles and gasmask kisses seems to do the trick.

Heavy:

Heavy caught you the first time you said it. His favorite step in your relationship was the night he decided to call you милая (milaya). You two were snuggled up next to eachother after a long day of battles, enjoying eachother’s warmth. (He’s a human heater, so this happens pretty often.) He wasn’t really expecting you to catch it, throwing it in the middle of his sentence to try to hide it. - He’s still a bit nervous about trying new things, you know! - But, you had indeed questioned him on what it meant. He merely explained that it was a term of endearment, and he struggled to find similar english words and ended up fumbling with Honey, Darling and Sweetie. Your face had gotten a little warmer at that, but you had expressed how much you liked the name and he had began to use it since. Now, it simply rolled off his tongue with ease when talking or calling out to you.

Ironically, it was nearly the same situation, only months later. You two were once again cuddling after a long day, though much more tired. This time, you two were laying down on Heavy’s giant bed with him on his back and you on your front right on top of him. You were almost out like a light, but you had noticed that your throat was dry. A glass of water was within Heavy’s reach, so you had mumbled in a groggy voice:

“Mind passing me that glass of water, милая(Milaya)?”

The way you said it without the russian accent almost tripped him up, but he froze right before picking up the glass for you. He figured you must have meant to use his nickname, Misha, or even his actual name, Mikail. He didn’t ask you about it, as you were asleep before he could form the right sentence.

It had plagued his mind for a while though, and may have made his face go pink a few times during battle.

Engineer:

Do you guys have any idea how wild some southern phrases can be?? Imagine picking up on that! But I won’t go into that, instead, imagine adapting his southern conjunctions. Ya’ll, ain’t, Y'all'd've. .. okay maybe not that last one, but still.

Something more common that you most likely picked up on was sometimes no longer pronouncing the G at the end of words. Fixin’, attackin’, goin’, etc. Just like Scout, you probably also had a few words that slipped into that southern accent.

But by far, the most common thing you did was drop the G and use ‘y’all’. Dell definitely noticed, and probably poked fun at you at times.

“Ya’ll wanna play darts or somethin’ later?” You head poked into the common room, where most of the usual mercs were hanging out, already drinking beer and chatting away. He’d let out a snicker, then follow it up with something along the lines of:

“Yer startin’ ‘ta sound a lil’ too much like me, Honeybee.”

He definitely gently teases you about it, “correcting” you if you “forget” to use the southern version of whatever you said.

“Don’tchya mean ‘ya’ll’?”

Demoman: (small gore mention)

Man, don’t get me started with all the weird stuff he says. The thing is, he doesn’t often use the same insults, so you don’t end up picking up on the more obscure ones. You might slip and say “ya” instead of “you”, and you might pick up on using “bloody” to accentuate what you’re trying to say. You might also pick up saying “aye” to get people’s attention.

He thought it was absolutely adorable, and would often follow through with whatever you said with something of his own.

You really wanted to use your favorite line of his on the battlefield one day, but he just so happened to be with you when you got a sweet domination, taking an opponent’s head clean off. You kinda forgot that he was with you, as he was focused on another opponent, so you let the line slip:

“Hah! They’re going to have to glue you back together… IN HELL!”

You weren’t expecting him to notice, or at least make it obvious that he did, but he immediately called out after you:

“AYE, THAT’S RIGHT YE BLOODY BADASS! THA’S HOW IT’S DONE!!”

Medic: (Gore mention)

It’s common for Medic to use filler words such as "eh, ah, um, er, eheh, aha, ja", and you’ve adopted that little habit. He finds it adorable that you started copying him!

Though, he definitely treats it as an experiment, as he does with most things. He also probably tallies it up. Like, he’ll just be having a conversation with you and have his notepad handy, and he only stops tallying when it seems like you might be catching on.

He’ll purposely use one of the filler words more often than others to see if you’ll do the same. It works! For some you begin to use them right away, others may take a while of exposure for you to start absentmindedly saying them.

The first time you used a german, non-filler word was in a fit of panic.

You had been practising some stuff on some subjects that Medic had allowed you to borrow. Of course you were interested in experimenting with bodies and animals, even people, sometimes! -You got with Medic, this is to be expected. - He knows he’s taught you enough for you to be safe to do this type of stuff on your own, and he allows you to use the medbay whenever.

He had walked in to tell you to come take a break to have something to eat, when you accidentally cut your hand with a scalpel. Without a second thought, you quickly let out a hushed “Scheiße!” before turning around to take care of the wound, spotting Medic. He didn’t have time to question you about it, since taking care of you was the only thing on this mind at the time.

Sniper:

The first time it happened was when Scout had asked you to hang out. He apparently wanted to show you something cool, but you were busy making yourself a snack. Mundy had just walked into the kitchen when he heard your reply;

“Cheers! I’ll be free in a bit!”

Scout didn’t seem to notice anything. Or if he did, he didn’t mention it. He just started rambling on about whatever cool thing he was about to show you. Sniper didn’t want to bother you when you seemed genuinely interested in Scout’s mostly one-sided conversation, but if you had looked over at him, you would have been able to spot a slight raise of his brow and the tiniest hint of a smirk.

The second time was when Demo had accidentally spilled some of his scrumpy on you. He was extremely apologetic, but you kept reassuring him that it was alright.

“No wuckas, Demo! I’ll just go change real quick.”

Yet again, you walked off before he could question you.

The third time got him backstabbed.

Though he’d never admit it, he often sometimes watched you through his scope, wanting to keep his S/O safe. This time, you just so happened to be semi-facing him, when you ran into a sticky bomb. You had noticed it a moment too late, so you weren’t able to dodge it. You only had enough time to mutter a quick “...Piss.” before being sent to respawn. Sniper was able to read your lips, and he couldn’t help but snort and let out a chuckle, not allowing himself to listen to his surroundings.

Finally, you did it when it was just you and him in his camper van. The two of you were bored and looking for something to do, when you had spotted something behind Mundy. You gestured towards it;

“Hey, wanna pass the deck of cards, mate?”

He froze for a moment, then he allowed his smirk to grow. You sat in silence, wondering what was so funny. He noticed the look of confusion on your face.

“Mate… really? You’re not doin’ that t’make fun of me, are ya?”

Your brows only furrowed further together, “What, what’d I do?”

He never called you ‘mate’ anymore, not after the two of you got together. Usually, he called you ‘Roo’ or ‘Love’.

“You called me ‘Mate.’”

“I-” You look at him in disbelief, finally making proper sense of his previous sentence. Then a smile began to slowly grow across your face, “no.. did I really?”

“Yeah, you’ve been playin’ parrot for a while, now,”

You shake your head and cover your face in embarrassment as you lean into his side. You hadn’t even noticed!

“S’alright, Roo. ’S pretty funny,” he snuggled a little closer, only to give you a small peck on the temple, “n’ cute, too.”

Spy:

One thing for certain was that he very rarely used your actual name. It was always pet names and names of endearment- always french ones.

‘Mon amour, mon coeur, ma/mon chèr(e)’, etc. And since you hung around him so much, it wasn’t rare to hear him use french swears and insults dropped in conversation every so often when talking about past battles and such. Once, he had accidentally spilled his glass of wine, and he uttered “Merde..” under his breath. The same thing happened when a burnt piece of his cigarette had fallen onto his suit, though this time he had said it a bit louder. He’d called people ‘con’ or ‘connard’, ‘crétain, putain,’ and many more. One that was a little more common around the others was ‘ta geule’, or ‘ferme ta geule.’ You eventually learnt that it meant something along the lines of “Shut up”.

One day, when you were extremely frustrated with an overly obnoxious opponent who really enjoyed taunting you, you muttered:

“Ferme ta geule, connard!”

As the opponent fully came to face you, trying to make sense of the words you had let out, they got backstabbed.

You were simply a distraction.

Though, that didn’t stop the way Spy’s cigarette fell from his lips as he finally thought twice about what you had said moments prior.

“Mon amour, it’s best you don’t start using those words too often.”

July.27.23

#fanfic #x reader #tf2 scout #team fortress #tf2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress x reader #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #team fortress two #team fortress 2

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howlsofbloodhounds · 5 days ago

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Tell me more about cat hearted killer? Mayhaps?

Typing as I think and head kinda empty rn so this isn’t everything. Others feel free to add on if they want. I personally think Stage 3 is when this is most obvious.

Cat naps whenever possible. Prefers napping in the sun in the ending with Color, usually very often curled up like a cat. If not in the sun or in his and Color’s room, probably found a dark place to sleep. Good luck finding him unless you’re Color.

When with Nightmare he hardly slept besides a few minutes at a time, was easily woken up, and as we all know— sleeps with one or both eyes open. Can sleep standing up, basically very trained to appear awake even when not.

Always protects his most vulnerable parts when sleeping—mainly the soul. Likes being warm when sleeping so will often have his hood up and covering most of the face. Hands are often clasped together in front of his chest and he has a tendency to also curl up whenever sufficiently hidden. Otherwise he just sleeps standing up.

It’s hard to tell if he’s actually asleep or just pretending, not only because of the open eyes, but because he wakes easily. Too hyper vigilant. Won’t sleep with his back facing anyone or an open door or window.

Does a lot of “grooming” of his physical appearance, even if he doesn’t have access to proper tools to actually take care of himself or often the energy, motivation, or care too for awhile. Adjusting clothes, straightening them, washes his hands frequently and tries to remember to take whatever opportunity possible to wash his clothes even though he doesn’t really change into new outfits under Nightmare often. In large part due to the way Chara taught him.

Most of these grooming habits happen with objects or actual stray cats though. He will frequently sharpen and clean his tools, replace handles and blades, and brush through cats fur and try to clip their claws when they get too long.

He will often just sit and watch the cats play, trying to puzzle out their behaviors and the reasons behind them— sometimes he’ll daydream about being one of them during the most stressful and exhausting workdays.

The ways he shows affection is very cat-like. Will bonk his head against Color’s, sometimes absentmindedly follow Color around for no other reason than curiosity and wanting to be around him. Brush up on or against Color when passing by. Definitely stares and doesn’t blink a lot.

When he’s curious, he tilts his head to the side, especially when he’s dissociating and things feel kinda funny and dreamy—so the shapes are kinda blurring together and colors are unusually dull or bright. During these moments he slow blinks at people he likes.

Cats help him sleep, the ones he has. They calm him and down and they are one of the view times he experiences happiness and peace.

For the longest time, they were who’d he’d seek out during breakdowns that triggered him into Stage 1–in stage 1 he doesn’t have much cat-like behaviors or mannerisms, doesn’t express himself that way naturally, doesn’t even partake in those type of grooming habits, besides hiding himself away when scared or sick and hurt maybe. Particularly after punishments or when Nightmare’s in a bad mood.

Finding him curled up somewhere dark and hidden with a bunch of cats with a broken arm and covered in wounds isn’t outside of the norm. I’d say he feels deeply connected to and responsible for them, they aren’t pets to him, they’re something else, even if he doesn’t view himself as one of them. He relies on them a lot emotionally and most days they were his only reason to bother trying to live or hope.

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zenosanalytic · 7 months ago

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Something that really struck me about Scavengers Reign(***SPOILERS*** Btw), and which is REALLY RARE to see in any sort of media, is how it presents facility with violence as something Dangerous and Bad, and incompetence at/refusal to use/hesitance with violence as a generally sympathetic quality.

Like:

Sam has his knife and he reaches for it allot, but mostly he uses it purely as a tool. IIRC(and I might NOT be), he only uses it as a weapon twice and the first time he absolutely gets his ass kicked(tbf: he's fighting a sealouse the size of an elephant at the time), and the second time, while he Murks an Aquatic Murderlemur like a Boss, he's, effectively, (and again I really cannot emphasize this enough: ***SPOILERS***) an Undead Super Soldier being driven around by a parasiteseed latched into his heart&nervous system, and it tries to take advantage of the situation to infect Ursula. So like: this historically good dude's facility with violence, while it saves Ursula from being drowned and eaten, is IMMEDIATELY followed by something deeply sinister.

In a flashback we see a rando named John using a rifle to hunt food, and he turns out to be under the influence of the same Parasiteseed Sam is, so once more we have capacity for violence being narratively near to something sinister about the character.

Ursula uses violence(I think?) a grand total of Once in the entire season, during the aforementioned Giant Sealouse Fight while it's feeding on Sam, and she totally gets lucky with it: She flings herself onto the Louse's back, manages to grab onto Sam's knife sunk there, then flips the louse on its side and guts it before it can get up again.

Azi is interesting because at the start of the story she's well-equipped, including a homemade Guandao(which: Respect u_u), and quick to use violence but she's ALSO presented at this phase of the story as Kind of a Dick, spcl to Levi, her robot companion. BUT!!! She still sucks at fighting. She tries to use the Guandao to take on some Giant Tonguecrabs and they just kind of bully her out of the way until she manages to get one of Levi's flares and deploy it(and blow her and Levi up a little). She uses it a second time to fight Hollow(a psychic monkey thing that Just Wants Some Food, Guys, he's cute and misunderstood and Did Nothing Wrong, Guys <:[ ) and she's not AS incompetent this time, even manages to get a hit in, but she still gets her ass totally handed to her, and almost dies. Later she attacks a REAL asshole named Kris, succeeds, and IMMEDIATELY gets bonked in the head with a rock for her troubles. Her most successful confrontation is near the end, confronting Kris for the final time when, in the process of threatening her with a knife, Azi chooses to stop and appeal to her better nature instead. It doesn't change what Kris is going to do, but it convinces Barry, and they both leave to save Ursula and the Passengers.

Barry loathes violence and conflict, tries to talk people out of it when it comes up, and is good at throwing rocks to stop it.

Kris is one of two(three?) characters we see being consistently competent at violence, and every single time she does it's presented as something sinister which alienates her from others and herself. She's unambiguously presented as a selfish, lying, self-damaging, manipulative villain, and she very much gets the end you'd expect from that.

Kamen is another of the two(three?), and he uses that most human of super-powers, The Ability to Throw Stuff, to kill a bunch of animals and feed them to Hollow. This Does Not Go Well. Kamen's presentation becomes more nuanced later in the series, but for most of it he's presented as a selfish, angry, corner-cutting fuckup and his use of, and facility with, violence is presented as part of this.

Hollow is the Third(?) of the Three(??) shown to be competently violent, and he is presented as an Unambiguously and Terrifying Antagonist in the later half of the story, and wildly Destructive to the "protagonists". He even "Kills" Levi; the sweetest of Robots! BUT! It's ambiguous what's really happening here. To begin with, Hollow doesn't commit violence until having watched Kamen do it Allot to feed it, and when it DOES it's first violent act is done to save Kamen's life(though even then it's a pretty sinister scene). Secondly the extent to which Hollow compels Kamen to violence is ambiguous; Kamen's initial killing spree DOES occur while his eyes are glowing(a sign of Hollow's psychic influence), but Hollow is FLABBERghasted by being presented with his kills; they still EAT them, but if Hollow was compelling him to kill, that he killed wouldn't be so surprising. It's possible Hollow compelled him to "get food"(this seems to be what Hollow's species does; compelling animals susceptible to their influence to pick berries and nuts they can't reach for them, and that's the first food-related thing Kamen does for them), and Kamen interpreted that into hunting when getting fruit was too hard for him. Third, the closer to Kamen Hollow gets, the more violent it gets, and the more protective of its connection to Kamen. Fourth, while Hollow is psychic, it's not really clear how much it understands human minds and thinking. The initial impulse is to assume psychic things are smart but I think it's important to remember this is just how these creatures eat. While WE see the visions Kamen experiences to manipulate him, for all we know Hollow is just Pushing Buttons and Pulling Levers in there. Clearly it knows the image and voice of Fiona, Kamen's ex-wife, but does it understand what those things mean to him, or what it's "saying" to him through those things, or is it just inducing emotions and impulses? A good example of this is its destruction of Levi. Levi was programmed by Fiona, and she gave it her own voice(which: they did this real cool and subtle gender thing with this which I loved :>). Kamen's motivation throughout this is his anguish over Fiona and desire to save her, so why would Hollow destroy Levi? Is this an act of jealousy, or does it only understand that this voice causes Kamen pain, and attacks it as a threat? The series never clarifies. After Avi's final confrontation with Kamen/Hollow leads to their separation, she scares Hollow away by just... throwing a rock near it like it was a raccoon or something. The question of how much of Hollow's actions are intentional vs instinctual is never clarified.

so Anyway:

I just Thought This was Neat :>

#Scavengers Reign #Scavengers Reign Spoilers #SR Cast #Violence #Sympathy #SR Themes #Our Staff #zA Analysis #appreciative reblogs

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ancha-aus · 8 months ago

Text

RealAgeAU Drabble - Caught

As promised! The next drabble in the series :D (or the next one made in between the series? You guys get it. also thanks @spotaus for the original post which gave me the idea/inspiration to start this whole thing)

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Okay the links should all work now and go to the right places.

Usual warning, unedited and unbeta'ed. We are just here to enjoy our time :D

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Cross groans as he leans against a wall and resists the urge to bonk his own skull against it "How can we not have foudn him!?" It has been three weeks of them searching at this point! Which means that Nightmare had been out and about for a month now!

Killer leans against the wall next to him "Chin up Cross. We don't want to make a scene and make people realise something is up."

Cross sighs but pulls away from the wall and pulls himself together. Killer is right, a sentence Cross does not use often, and they need to keep a low profile if they want to find Nightmare wihtout anyone realising it.

Dust joins their side and shakes his skull. Okay. Good news and bad news in one go. Good news, no one seems to have heard or seen anything about Nightmare. Bad news, no one has heard or seen anything about him!

Cross sighs and looks at Dust "Horror?"

Dust shrugs. he must see the unimpressed look on Cross face as Dust seems to think a moment longer "Horror is making a second round. No traces of him foudn just yet. but he wants to be sure."

Cross nods. Horror is by far the best tracker out of the four of them and if Horror can't find anything none of them will.

Killer nods as he pulls out his phone "Okay. this universe was also a burst. We don't need anything right?"

Cross shakes his skull "We got our supplies." which is nice about staying on the move, you can travel very light.

Killer nods as he considers the list he made "Okay. We are still searching for that universe. but we are near a split again. We can either go for the sciency universes or the more magical ones. I think the magical ones will lead to our end goal quicker..."

Cross thinks it over. It would be nice if they get to Dreamtale quickly to make sure Nightmare isn't there. It had been a goal until now and the only reason they had been making small jumps and going from universe to universe is because they wanted to be sure Nightmare wasn't in one of those or anyone heard of what happened.

It had been Horror who had offered that they should check everything. After his own accident and his own magic being difficult he had lost some of his more natural abilities. If Nightmare lost his own magical powers he may also lose his ability to travel through the mulitverse. meaning he could get stranded somewhere.

So they were making tiny jumps to neighbouring universes for now. and checking each one that they stopped it. The job they had with Nightmare is actually very helpful for this and trained them as at this point they are able to search about three universes a day.

They know how each universe is suposed to feel and are able to spot key differences or elements that don't belong thanks to all the exposure they have had. Meaning they should in theory be able to spot Nightmare as soon as they see him. or the traces of him.

Cross is still worried. They all already agreed Nightmare would most likely go back to the way he was before. the tiny skeleton from the storybook. But the image of the babybones with his skull smashed open keeps haunting cross. What if that wound returns as well? Would that mean that Ngihtmare is just somewhere heavily injuried with no help? could that have meant that nightmare just... died?

When Cross first asked Killer about it he had just huffed. said that boss is tougher than they can even imagine. and that if he had already died that Killer doubts the castle or the universe it had been in would have still been as stable as it had been when they visited.

Which, Cross knows Killer is right. Cross had seen what happens to a universe that grows too instable and gets destroyed. He had lived in it.

Still. the worry remains and-

"Nothing." Horror joins them again "where too next?"

Killer looks over at Horror "We are at another branch. Science or magic."

Horror frowns as Dust finally speaks again "Both can be promising or worrying. Both have ways of knowing about the multiverse and them..."

Horror nods "Meaning, which way do we think Nightmare would pick if he had to make small jumps. and which could he get stuck in if a large jump misfired?"

Killer frowns as he looks back at his phone and the copy of the general multiverse map he made. Cross looks over his shoulder and frowns with him. Cross can see what makes Killer hesitant to pick either. both paths look promising.

Dust tilts his skull "Which universes are in both paths? And which is saver for a babybones."

Cross turns to Dust and knows so are Killer and Horror.

Dust rolls his eye lights "We know who he is. He knows that. The multiverse at large? Does not. their story isnt known. either way. If nightmare remembers everything and he is going where we think he is going. He will pick the path off least resistence as he knows he is..." a glance around before softer "fragile. if he does not remember. He will take the path of least resistence because trauma and past injuries. So. Which is safer for a babybones?"

Killer blinks before looking back at his list and removing universes. Most Fell universes go straight out. so fo the Mafia stuff. Blaster AUs are next to go. any Genocide endings are out as well and Killer reconsiders the map.

Killer frowns "There is no clear path anymore. a lot of zigzagging. But! I think i see a path which could be seen as safe." he snorts and wiggles his eyebrows, how he does it Cross never figured out, "We can go by a Lustverse."

Dust looks wholly unimpressed and Horror looks disapproving "Focus. Adn are you sure?"

Killer snorts but nods "Yeah. Lustverse is originally build on having a children wish and that not working correctly or something. I don't remember they details but if they see a child they will 100% protect him." he nods and looks at Cross "Knife ready?"

Cross nods as he pulls out his knife "Where to?"

Killer joins his side "We are going to a pacifist upper tale thing. just aim east and slice and it should connect." Cross does as told and the portal fuzzes for a bit before a clear rift opens. On the other side green grass and sunshine.

Cross waits until the other three entered before looking around them quickly. No one near. good. and he goes in.

-----

Nightmare is not a fan of this.

The market is too open and there are too many people.

Good side about it is though... a lot of them will give you free samples and food if you are a kid.

Nightmare walks around another stand and stops by one with all kinds of fruit. it is a lot harder to look over the edge and see all of it but he makes it work. He still hasn't eaten today and really should.

He can't quite remember how much food he needs and when. For now he just gets food whenever he gets really hungry. Just a tiny snack to keep him going. He had been having meals every day or other day. that is good right?

Sure he feels hungry a lot but that is probably normal. If he ate each time he got hungry he would be eating throughout the day and that just seems like a lot.

Nightmare considers the food and how much gold he still has. He had been lucky so far and hadn't been moving to a new universe yet. He had eben here for three days now instead of his normal two.

"Oh hello again friend!"

Nightmare flinches and has to stop himself from ducking away. He looks up and sees the man behind the stall smiling. "... hello..."

The man grins "Good to see you back again little friend. we had been worried when no one spotted you. Would you like to help me test some of the fruits? I can only sell the best stuff of course!"

Nightmare... knows he is just trying to ease him into accepting it. even though he knows it... it works. his soul swells a bit at the idea of helping and being seen as helpful. Nightmare isn't sure why. Ever since he finished shrinking it has become hard to understand himself.

He looks to the side but nods "okay..."

the man nods and considers the fruit "well. I personally think the grapes may be a bit off." he grabs a cluster of grapes and holds it out.

Nightmare holds his own hands under it and the man releases the grapes, never touching him. which is probably because Nightmare can't stop flinching and backing away when people raise their hands or voices.

Nightmare picks one off and eats it. it tastes so good! Sweet and refreshing. nightmare takes his time to eat the tiny treat before looking back at him "It is good." he holds the grapes back out to give back.

The man nods as he taps his chin "that is good to hear. you mind finishing those all and come back if any of them tasted off? We need a good sample size of the tastetesting." he says it as he calmly places a box full of grape clusters ready for sale.

Ngihtmare immediantly pulls the grape close again and nods "Sure..." he doesn't promise it. He isn't an idiot to make promises to strangers. but this man has never been difficult about him having to pay much more than a taste test. Nightmare figures it is something else pity he just pities him but Nightmare just.. can't focus as easily on those things anymore. it is harder too focus on certain stuff and if he tries to force himself to focus or think certain ways it just causes his skull to ache.

So he tries to stay in the now and reacts and thinks only to what happens or are direct threats.

He walks through the market as he eats his grapes. one by one. enjoying each one.

Nightmare is very disappointed when the cluster is all gone and takes a moment to find a trashcan to throw it away. some woman coo and mutter about such a good mannered child and Nightmare feels himself blush and feels the need to hide. it isn't that big of a deal! H just threw soemthing away! be good for nature and stuff and don't throw it just on the ground!

Nightmare quickly leaves the area and starts to make his way back to where he left his stuff. He needs to relax. maybe he can read his book for a moment and nap.

He walks between people and makes sure to not touch anyone. letting his eye lights look around the crowd.

Then he freezes.

Was that white?

probably not right?

Nightmare still strains his eye lights to search the area he saw it. Then he spots him.

And Nightmare cna see that Cross spotted him at exactly the same time.

Neither of them look away from each other for a moment. Nightmare feels his soul pick up the pace as the need to run rises by the second. It is fine. It is fine! Cross... cross probably doesn't even realise he was here! It is just a coincidence.

Cross turns his skull a tiny bit but his eye lights don't break eye contact. Cross is saying something to someone and Nightmare breaks the eye contact to glace.

That is Killer.

Ngihtmare doesn't think as he turns and runs right into the crowd.

"Wait!"

Yup! That is Cross! Nightmar keeps running.

He goes between people and dives under stalls as he uses the crowd for cover. he makes a turn and glances back only to see Cross a lot closer.

Shit.

He makes another sharp turn and spots an possible escape. He rushes into an alleyway and dives behind a dumpster and stays very quiet.

it only takes a few seconds before he hears running steps. he sees a flash of white between the opening of the dumpster and the wall.

the footsteps don't pause and Cross keeps running.

It takes a while but eventually it goes quiet again.

Nightmare waits for a while longer before wiggling his way out of the enclosed space. he checks the area as he jumps out and goes back into the market. He pulls the hood of the hoody back on and puts his hands into his pockets.

He can't hide the skeleton feet as he isn't wearing socks or shoes but this will have to do for now.

He is such an idiot! He should have kept moving instead of staying in the same universe for so long! Nightmare nods to himself. He will go to his little hidey place. grab his things. and make a jump.

He cuts through the market and finds the building with the empty storage he had taken over. he climbs in through the window and huffs as he lands hard in his little hidey place.

Nightmare leans against the wall and lets out a breath in relieve. okay. he is fine. he is fine. he is-

"Ah!" he gets picked up and is suddenly held back against a much larger form.

"Finally. we have been looking everywhere."

Nightmare freezes because that is Dust. Then he starts to struggle and fight more to be let go.

---------

Dust runs over the roof tops as he easily keeps up with the small form in the market. Cross on the ground not far behind.

To say they are relieved would be an understatement. They had actually found boss.

How is he so tiny? Are all six year olds that tiny? Or is he just that tiny because of... well everything?

Dust isn't sure.

When Cross had frozen they had all turned to him to see what had been wrong. He had motioned that he had found Nightmare. Only for Nightmare to start running.

Which, rude. What the hell Nightmare?

Killer had been quick to step up to the job or right hand and gave them orders. Cross would follow on foot. Dust would go over the rooftops to make sure we didn't lose him. Killer nad Horror would go around the market and go to the other end to corner him if necessary.

Dust watches Nightmare dive into an alleyway and hide. Cross follows the path but once he can't spot Nightmare he keeps running right back out. only a moment later Nightmare comes out of hiding and goes back the way he came.

Dust follows him from the rooftops. making sure to stay quiet as he does so. He does take a moment to take his phone out and text the others that he still has eyes on Nightmare and is following him.

This does imply that Nightmare doesn't remember him. Why else would he freak out at the sight of Cross? Cross of all skeletons?

But if Nightmare doesn't have his memories and only remembers Dream as fellow skeleton... maybe that could explain why he freaked out?

Or it is because all of you betrayed him and he knows you can't be trusted the voice of papyrus is not welcome at the moment.

Dust glares as he keeps following Nightmare "shut up. you don't know shit."

he laughs oh? Cursing already? You will infect your terrible manners unto the tiny babybones. unless of course you just do what you should and kill him.

Dust slowly moves to the next roof "I already told you. I am not killing him."

A huff Then what will you do?! He is useless like this! Offers nothing!

Dust hisses his own answer back "He is a child. He doesn't have to offer anything."

a laugh so now he is a child? While before he was just your weakened boss? Which is is sans?

Dust ignores the ghost as he watches Nightmare disappear into a building. Dust is quick to silently follow him. Nightmare pants as he leans against the wall under the window that Dust is perched on. Dust scans the room before anything else. It is empty and looks old. in the corner he spots a backpack that looks a lot like one of Cross's anime backpacks. it lays on a thin blanket of some kind. otherwise the room is filled with boxes and other junk.

Nightmare looks calm and Dust acts quickly as he scoops Nightmare up as he lands inside the room.

Dust lets out a breath as tension leaves his body "Finally. we have been looking everywhere." They found him. they did it.

Nightmare is frozen for a moment before he starts to wiggle and struggle "let me go!"

Oh fuck that voice is so much higher than before. also shit Ngihtmare is slippery!

Dust groans as he tries to tighten his hold on the small skeleton but he is unsure how to do this without hurting the other. he is so much tinier than he thought he would be. Not to forget most likely much much more fragile. How does he hold Nightmare like this?!

Dust tries to change his handhold but alost drops Ngihtmare "Calm down Nightmare. it is just me." maybe he just didn't recognise him? please remember him.

more laughter What now you are scared he forgot you? Like he ever mattered to you! Hah!

Dust wants to snap at the voice but stops himself. If nightmare really doesn't know who they are than talking out loud to something no one else hears is not the right way to introduce himself.

Nightmare does not stop struggling and Dust keeps having to change his hold on the other.

In the end Dust decides to just sit down under the window and roll up around the tiny babybones- Nightmare. around nightmare. He ahs to remind himself it is Nightmare.

But... nightmare is a babybones now. or was always a babybones.

... mental and moral problem for later with how he will deal with that.

At least Nightmare stopped struggling. instead jjust panting harshly in his hold. No doubt tired from first trying to escape them and then struggling to be freed.

Dust just hugs the other tighter. do not relax his hold and give the other a chance to escape.

He is so tiny! so much lighter than Dust expected him to be. Also thinner as most of his form seems to be just the hoody. Wait that is his old hoody.

Dust isn't sure how to react to this. How to react to the feeling of having this tiny babybones against and with him.

Well good job. you have captured a babybones. are you going to kill him like you killed me? remembering how i was as babyboned never stopped you from killing me after all.

Dust feels his hold tighten on Nightmare. No. he is not going to hurt nightmare. Dust can be a good... a good.. henchman. and henchman help their boss. even if their boss is now tiny and easy to hold and so so thin and feels warm against them and Dust can feel the tiny fragile soul slowly calm down as they are close enough that Dust can feel it pulse and beat in the other.

Dust sighs as he struggles to find words "That is better." he makes sure one of his arms has a tight hold on Ngihtmare before he grabs his phone. He opens the group chat and types a message 'I got him. Just have to get back to you guys. See you outside of town, south side.' and he sends it. only a moment before he gets celebratory emojis back for the news.

Dust puts the phone away and stands "Time to go." he turns to the window.

Nightmare immediantly starts to struggle "no! My stuff!"

Dust frowns down before looking back. It shouldn't matter. They can just grab stuff he wants from other universes and they did that before... then again. If anyone understands how you can unreasonably attached to objects it is Dust, he still has Papyrus' scarf after all.

Dust nods and walks over to the corner of things. He holds one arm around Nightmare, holding him against his shoulder and partly over it. as he packes the stuff laying around with his other hand.

Thin blanket, backpack just holds a book, a lighter, a pocketknife and some gold. Not a lot but if this is all NIghtmare had to make his way through the multiverse for the last month it is all the more impressive.

Dust can't help but ask "Why not take more things?" he finishes packing and puts the backpack on Ngihtmare's back before taking a tight hold on him again as he easily lifts him.

Nightmare grumbles but mutters and answer "Too heavy... travel light and find what you need."

Dust freezes. He hadn't expected an answer. but if... if Ngihtmare answered then... "Ready... to meet up with the others?"

Ngihtmare freezes and wiggles for a moment before going lax with a sigh "you four met back up?"

Dust feels his soul relax. He remembers them. He rememebrs them! Oh this makes everything so much better!

Dust grins as he checks outside the window "Of course." of course they would emet back up to find him. obviously. Now. To get to the tohers and get the hell out of here.

They are going to have to figure out how to manage this child after all.

----

They had aqcuired the child! now they just need to figure out how to be parents lmao. I am sure they will be fine :) They only lightly traumatized Nightmare here by stalking him, hunting him, intruding on his safe space, and forcefully moving him :D

They are fine you all :D

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This one was fun to write! so mcuh fun! i love getting them all to interact and do things :D

#utmv #realageau #nightmare sans #bad sanses #Cross sans #Dust sans #killer sans #horror sans #drabble #reverse adoption #found family #deaged nightmare #okay i think that were the tags #you all i started typing this one when i saw i had a bit below three hours on the poll left and waited #but yeah! Look at dust being in denial about parental feelings #he will get there soon you guys #also they 100% kidnaped a child just then #the fact that nightmare did not have a home or family at the moment doesn't matter #they kidnaped a child #they will tell you they had a right to it though!#as nightmare is their boss so theirs to take wiht them #easy math #this would not hold up in court #also they now have to keep a hold of nightmare #and figure out how to take care of a immortal tree spirit who is in the body of a skeleton #all while on the run as they don't actually have a home themselves #They will do fine you guys don't worry #also still trying to decide what the actual relationship between the gang members will be #mmmmh

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