#but trust me these boys are far from completely human | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blindmagdalena · 2 years ago

Text

Complete Me

Summary: 18+ 2.5k homelander x reader, sub homelander, bottom homelander, mommy kink, pegging, large toy, lite belly bulge, restraints, praise kink, comeplay, schmoopy aftercare.

It's not always easy keeping the most powerful man in the world satisfied, but as far as he's concerned, you were made for the job. art by @krazyyy & used with permission!

There is a void in Homelander that he is unsure he will ever be able to fill.

But fuck if you don’t try your damnedest.

If he’s being honest, he never thought that sex with a human could compare to sex with another supe, but you’ve found tricks that curl his toes better than the clench of any Compound V charged hole could. You put his wrists in cuffs that he could snap with a thought, and whisper Don’t break those, baby. Or mommy won’t fuck you tonight.

He huffs and twists against them, but never breaks them. He listens to you. He’s obedient. He’s your good, good boy, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The electric thrill of being bound by nothing but your will empowering these flimsy cuffs has him panting. He wants more from you, as he always does, and like the wicked, wonderful enabler you are, you give it to him.

When he first sees the toy you intend to use tonight, long, thick and barely contained by the harness you wear, he thinks you’re joking. “Christ, are you going to fuck me, or bludgeon me to death?” He asks, adjusting against his headboard. It doesn’t stop his cock from throbbing, steadily drooling precome onto his belly while his stomach churns in anticipation. “Don’t be a brat,” you reply, eyes glinting. He watches you spread a generous amount of lube along the girthy chunk of phallus-shaped silicone, his own neglected cock aching at the sight of it. “You said you wanted something big.” “Didn’t expect you to take it so literally,” he says wryly, mouth feeling dry as the bed dips with your weight. “Expected something, y’know, grand. Impressive. Bombastic.”

“My, my. Look at you and all your synonyms,” you purr, smiling. He jerks slightly when you put your hands on his ankles, drawing them slowly up his legs, spreading them out. He’s malleable under your hands, always is, legs falling open in a wanton splay.

“I’m a walking thesaurus,” he gives back sardonically, but his breath hitches with the way you squeeze his inner thighs before adjusting his legs on either side of you.

“I don’t think you’ll be walking anywhere after this,” you say, voice and expression both downright devilish.

He laughs breathlessly. He knows you won’t be able to hurt him, but the notion still sends a thrill trilling up and down his spine like a xylophone. He sucks a breath in through his teeth at the first warm, wet press of your fingers to his rim, circling it in slow, firm glides. Homelander nods. “Yeah, yeah, yes. M’ready.”

“Yes, what?” You push. He smiles. He loves that you push him like this, push him to say the things he wants to, but holds back from out of shame or embarrassment or both. He loves that you don’t let him hide from or deny himself the things that he wants. He loves you.

“Yes, mommy,” he exhales, despite his tongue feeling leaden in his mouth.

The smile you return is worth it. “Good. Take a deep breath, and lie down.”

He complies, sliding down the headboard until his arms are stretched above his head. You adjust yourself between his legs, gripping his ass in your palms to spread it wide, and as he breathes out, the obscenely large head of the toy presses against his slick rim.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he grouses, eyes widening.

“Breathe,” you encourage him, patiently massaging his rump. “Humans can stretch seven inches before anything tears. You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He scoffs, but he does trust you. He knows you won’t break him, wouldn’t if you could. He relaxes his head against the headboard and closes his eyes. It’s not that it hurts, but the pressure that builds as you spread his rim open around the fat head of the toy is intense and alien, more so than anything he’s used to. He twists the chains of the handcuffs, which groan precariously. You reach out to touch his wrist, hushing him. “Breathe, darling,” you remind him again, gentle and soothing. He screws his eyes shut, focusing on the feel of your fingers on his wrist, your other hand under his thigh, and breathes in deeply. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he keens, endlessly shifting and adjusting himself, though never pulling away from the girth of the toy slowly splitting him open.He shakes his head, faith wavering. “What the fuck, that’s not–it’s not going to fit,” he pants, trying to spread his legs further, but no matter how he angles himself, there’s no escaping the slow, aching pressure of the oversized silicone cock sliding into him.

“Shhhh,” you hush, holding the base of the cock in one hand while you use the other to stroke his thigh. “It’ll fit. You’re just poorly prepared,” you say. He can hear the smile in your voice. His cock gives a dripping throb at the pleasure in your voice, knowing that he’s impressing you, even as he complains.

“And whose fault is that?” He asks breathlessly, arching his back.

“Yours,” you answer, giving his ass a sharp little smack. He had asked for this, after all. He didn’t want you to wet or stretch him out too thoroughly. He wanted to feel it.

And feel it he does.

“Halfway there,” you murmur, close enough to kiss him now. He leans into it eagerly, savoring the gentle, plush press of your lips, gripping the chains of his cuffs, wishing he could touch you, even as he relishes this hold you have over him. He keens against your lips, opens up easily for the wet slide of your tongue only to suck at it, greedy for more, more, more. Your hips are almost flush with his. You’re so close, and he’s so full. The sheer size of it inside him doesn’t leave space for anything else, no thoughts or feelings about anything other than what’s happening, other than your touch and your warmth. He’s panting now, giving sharp little bucks of his hips, though you remain stubbornly still. “It’s too big,” he moans, overwhelmed by this inescapable, full feeling. You soothe him with gentle sweeps of your hands up his thighs, his hips, his sides.

“You’re doing perfectly,” you tell him. He can hear your excitement, smell it in the air. He cracks his eyes open to gaze up at you, and flourishes under the open adoration he finds in your stare. The praise warms him. He adjusts himself again, but there’s no way to make this feel anything less than. He cannot minimize it, cannot escape it. His cock throbs, the leaking head bouncing against his stomach of its own accord. You give one last push, and he moans with your body finally slotting snugly against his, buried as deep as you’ll go. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Homelander nods fervently, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “Good, good, s’good, mmm…”

He leans into it when you touch his cheek, nuzzles your palm before pressing a wet kiss into it. You have a way of touching him that renders him senseless, used, but treasured. He knows that even when you’re done with him, when you have finished playing and this intensity is gone, he will not be left empty or alone.

You’ll be there. “I’m going to fuck you now, baby,” you whisper. His breath hitches with excitement, the chains above his head clanking lightly against one another. He nods, bites down slowly on his tongue to hold back the little noise that threatens to slip from him when you pull almost halfway out, only to drive firmly back in. You don’t have to move very fast, the sheer size of the toy does most of the work for you, unraveling him with every movement. “Oh f-fuck, ffffuck, nnngh,” he groans, pulling on his bindings. The steel loop they’re hooked to groans precariously. His eyes snap open when you wrap your hands around his throat, slowly leaning your weight down on him. “Look at me,” you tell him, your own eyes clouded with arousal, pupils blown wide. His eyes flicker constantly to the wet part of your lips, aching to kiss them. You squeeze. You may not be strong enough to crush his windpipe, but it’s more than enough to restrict his airflow, to make him keenly aware of every breath he takes. You brace yourself that way, make him feel it as you settle into a steady rhythm, rocking in and out of him, the size of the toy making every push and pull twice as intense.

“There, that’s it. You’re taking me so well. Knew you would, baby. Always so good for me. You’re gonna make a mess for me, aren’t you? Come so hard, I bet you’ll mess up that pretty face,” you coo, the words going straight to his cock. The toy is too big, too unwieldy for you to fuck him fast, but the intensity of being carved in and out of by something so large is just as good.

“Y-yes,” he chokes out. “Yeah, yes, fuck, I’m fffucking–” He can’t think long enough to string a coherent sentence together. He chokes on his own breath when you move a hand from his throat to his belly, pushing down on it as you slide all the way back into him. “Look,” you tell him. He obeys, tipping his head down to see where your hand is, bleary-eyed and feeling as though he’s slipping outside of his own body. Where your hand is, he can see his own skin slightly distended around the sheer girth of the toy. Seeing this extension of you inside him, is dizzying, but the way you press your hand down on it nearly makes him come right then and there, a shiver running through his whole body.

He almost throws his head back, but you stop him, catching him by his hair. “No, no. Keep watching. Keep watching,” you tell him, your own voice thin, growing desperate. Your grip in his hair tightens and he moans for you. “Just like that. Good boy. Good boy.”

Keeping one hand in his hair, you move the other from his belly to his cock, taking it in a firm hold that sets his teeth on edge, biting back a high keening noise. His eyes snap wide open when you start to mercilessly pump it, no preamble or extra lube, just sudden and intense friction and pressure. He chokes on his own fumbling words, no longer holding himself back, openly gasping and making startled, desperate little noises. You look fucking thrilled. You give his hair another sharp tug, keeping it down, keeping his gaze on your hand stripping over his dick, and the barely visible swell of your cock grinding back and forth deep, deep inside him. “That’s it, baby,” you say breathlessly, sweat prickling on your skin, voice thin with exertion. “Show me how you come. Show me how you come on mommy’s cock.” Beyond the capacity for words, all he can do is let go a ragged sound halfway between a sob and a moan, screwing his eyes shut tight as the catastrophic crash of his orgasm overtakes him, his body locking up tight while his cock unloads a ribboning torrent of come so intense, it paints across his whole face, wetting his lips, his cheek, hanging heavily on his eyelashes, spraying all the way up to his hair. You thoroughly milk him of the experience, squeezing out every last drop with gradually slowing strokes, emptying him of the very last drop that spills out onto his stomach. Homelander feels fully outside of himself, transcendent from his physical form, free floating on an upward current of pure sensation. Not even the weight of the toy inside him can keep him tethered to reality, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he sinks down onto the bed, his arms dangling loosely from his bindings. Gradually, however, reality does slip back in. It’s a slow trickle of grounded touches: your fingers tapping on his thighs, his sides, his chest. You drag your nails carefully along his skin, eliciting goosebumps. You lure him back to his body not with demands, but with soothing, purposeful touches. With love.

The toy slides out slowly, and he lets go a tired breath with it. The warmth of you is gone, but only briefly. You’re quick to slide right back between his legs, minus the toy. One at a time, you free his hands, holding each one and lowering it to the bed. Every single moment of putting him back together is full of the same practice and care that you took him apart with.

You trail kisses up his body, the occasional hot slip of your tongue like a static shock. You lap at every drop of the mess he’s made of himself. Your lips feel like worship, your hands like reverence. He doesn’t feel used like something dirty or disposable, he feels like something that has been used and cherished.

His eyes flutter open as you cup his face. His lips spread in a lazy smile while you kiss him, cleaning away the salty mess of his come from his lips, his cheek. He rumbles contentedly when you bring your lips back to his and he can taste himself on them, his own movements languid and weak. He doesn’t bother trying to lift his hands. He’s too busy enjoying the way you tend to him, taking it upon yourself to set his limbs into comfortable positions before you lay down atop him, fingers in his hair, lips on his throat where you had previously been squeezing.

“How do you feel?” You ask eventually. “I’m fucking great,” is what he thinks he says, but to you, it comes out more like, “M’f’k’n’gr’t…”

You laugh softly, your love and affection so palpable in the sound, he wants to bury himself in it. “You were wonderful,” you say, your words settling over him more warmly than any blanket, warmer than the sun itself. He could bask beneath them forever. “So, so very good for me. You always are,” you say, punctuating your words with delicate butterfly kisses. “I love making you feel good. I love you.”

The first time you cared for him this way, he had fallen to pieces in your hands. Even now, there is the threat of it in how his eyes burn, prickling with tears, but he does not fall apart this time. Instead, he relaxes into your every touch, and lets himself feel freedom in this sense of deconstruction, knowing without a doubt that you will not leave him to pick up the shards alone.

“Love y’too,” he gives back slightly more coherently. “Why’d’ey m’ke ‘em th’big?”

“They make them bigger,” you answer, effortlessly understanding his slurred question.

The look he gives you makes you laugh again, a sharper bark of amusement. “Relax,” you tell him, stroking his hair. “I think we’re good. For now.”

“Fiend,” he accuses you affectionately, putting in the herculean effort to lift a hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb before he kisses you, melting into the warm, sweet aftermath of the session. He likes that you always tease him with more. It’s a clever way of assuring him that there will always be more to look forward to.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #my writing #sublander #smut #homelander fanfiction #I DID IT the pegging fic has arrived #i have been struggling to write lately so it feels VERY good to finish something lol #enjoy!!!!

1K notes · View notes

celestiamour · 6 months ago

Text

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ when i'm alone ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @lokotrona11 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. peter pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ peter meets a bookworm who makes life in london a bit more bearable┊1.3k words (prt two coming soon)

setting: england after the golden age contains: exposition, first meetings, strangers to friends, minor blood & injury & mentions of fights

➤ author's note: the very first narnia request i received!! there will be a part two that’s further into their relationship and includes more of the request, so please look forward to that (it will be better than this one, trust me, i just thought this meeting would be cute)!

to say adjusting to life back in england was difficult would be an understatement. although it was nice to see his mother again and the familiar landscape of where he grew up, it doesn’t change the fact that it was a complete accident as a result of them exploring during a hunt and going back towards the wardrobe’s tunnel in nostalgic curiosity. all of the siblings would be lying if they said that home had the same magic spark that narnia did with the gray skies and the nauseous smell of pollution, but at least they had the wonders of modern technology here like lightbulbs rather than wax candles. it was even a shock for them to remember that they are no longer the only humans in the world, that animals didn’t talk anymore, and that mythical creatures like centaurs and griffins were only real in fiction. however, the most difficult change for peter by far was the fact that he was no longer the king of a fantastical land, instead he was now some nineteen-year-old boy who wasn’t taken seriously and was often told to go off and do literally anything else that isn’t meddling in adult affairs. it’s common knowledge that he was always very mature for his age since he’s constantly looking out for the younger ones, but it was such a drastic change for him to already be acting like he was in charge of everyone after just a few weeks in the countryside and even wondered what the eccentric professor must have taught him for him to come back acting all high and mighty.

he’s tried so hard to go back to being a normal boy, yet he struggles to hide the regality in the way he acts and the air of superiority he holds. the other former royals are used to his behavior even before being crowned, but soon he found himself isolated from others his age no matter how close they were previously and getting into physical fights with anyone crosses him. he was no longer used to holding his head low when disrespected and now that he’s had a taste for being held in high esteem, he would no longer tolerate it and was now known as a troublesome person whom most people steered clear of.

although his family was concerned for him, peter didn’t seem to have cared less about how quickly his reputation plummeted and he spent his days as a loner. he often found himself exploring the city’s largest library instead of playing sports or getting a job since no one wanted to hire a rebel, reading through overly complicated books about portals and other dimensions. he knew that science wouldn’t be able to explain the phenomenon that he experienced since it was magic, but studying up on the subject made him feel a little bit better that there were other people around the world exploring the subject.

the entire section dedicated to this field of knowledge was in a far corner quite a ways from the entrance, a dusty little space a tad bit darker than everywhere else, and never had a soul near it which made it the perfect place for him to brood and be alone for the most part. the only other person he saw there occasionally was you, someone he only saw through passing within school hallways and heard about receiving academic prizes all the time. while classes were out, he fully believed you had already read all the books in the building. you were there from the moment the sign was flipped to “open” until the moment the librarian told you it was closing time, never thoughtlessly roaming around since you always walked with purpose knowing exactly what you were looking for, and often seen carrying books that towered over your head threatening to tilt over.

despite seeing you every single day, he never really had the chance to talk to you. you seemed so… untouchable… like you didn’t have the time or place to spare for people who weren’t in your schedule. he wonders if he used to appear like that to others back in narnia when he was rarely approached by anyone who wasn’t one of his siblings, but at least he had the excuse of being a high monarch— what was yours? it was the first time he found himself curious and thinking about something else that wasn’t his former life.

turns out, peter’s chance came to him when he least expected it and when he was in his most vulnerable state: freshly bruised and cut up after a fight with a gang of middle schoolers over stepped-on toes. he’s landed himself in this situation countless of times yet still never learns his lesson to leave it alone before it escalates. fortunately, he got to witness the satisfying conclusion of the leader getting dragged away by his mother, but he was really the one with the egg on his face when he barely managed to get in a single punch while he ended up with a busted lip. to say he was pissed off was an understatement, but frankly, emotions that weren’t anger or longing didn’t come to him much anymore. he didn’t want to get a scolding from his family about he should have been more careful again so he wandered back into the library to take care of himself in his usual corner, unwittingly catching your eye on his way and leading you to him.

neither of you said anything when you walked up to him with a first-aid kit in hand as you used your eyes to ask for permission to patch him up and he simply nodded to grant it, the silence being more tense than awkward. you wrapped bandages around his aching knuckles, applied ointment to his wounds, and uttered nothing but a “hold still” when he hissed in response to the sharp pain of hydrogen peroxide on his lip. he didn’t even feel your skin against his, just feather-light touches that tickled him slightly as he intently looked at you while you were focused. he’s never seen you up close before so he took the opportunity to study your features, slowly realizing that he developed a crush on you at some point and immediately straightening his posture to act like he wasn’t staring when you glanced back at him.

“you’re… the guy who’s always reading about different dimensions, right? your name is... peter?”

“yeah… that’s me.” he's surprised that you knew anything about him at all, much less his name and the books he was reading. considering that you were always in your own little world, it meant that you paid more attention to your surroundings than he originally thought.

“have you visited any other realms lately?” your tone was serious, but the absurdity of the question made it sound like a joke.

“you wouldn’t believe me, it sounds ridiculous.”

“really? i’ve heard all kinds of tales, i doubt it would be even close to the worst one.” you weren’t sure why you were the first to start the conversation when you never cared for your peers or what they had to say before.

“well… it all started when we left for the countryside and my youngest sister wanted to play hide and seek…” he wasn’t sure why he was telling you about the wardrobe and narnia when he refused to open up about it to anyone other than his siblings, but it felt right to do it. at best, you’ll believe him and he’ll have someone to talk to. at worst, a cute girl will think that he’s crazy.

neither of you were quite sure about the reasons behind this conversion, but perhaps there didn’t need to be one as long as it felt like the right thing to do.

request [ I didn't find your requests so I'm writing to you here 😅 I wanted to ask Peter falling in love with a bookworm (they only see each other in the library in the last hallway and she's shy and all that) (in the second movie) in London, as if she were the one capable of removing his anger for a while and Peter felt calm with that little girl. (If you write smut with +18 at the end or just fluffy, whatever you choose) ]

#📜. her works #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia x reader #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia #narnia fanfiction #peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #narnia x reader

292 notes · View notes

death---dealer · 6 months ago

Text

Blue Eyes x Human!Reader Imagines. ( Part One. )

im crying another set of 3 oneshots? all for our BOY/// someone sedate me. Comments, likes, reblogs are very much appreciated, spread the LOVE FOR BLUE EYES WORLDWIDE.

Blue Eyes Taking you Fishing.

There were surely a lot of things that you didn't know how to do or how to properly execute in the time since the Simian Flu radiated most of the Human Population and left you all beggars in desperate need of survival skills that the society that was destroyed left you completely defenseless and lack of knowledge was evident in most everything that you had to encounter thus far with the Ape Colony. That… You tilted your head in thought, thinking that your train of thought had gotten a bit side-tracked and moved its momentum towards a more negative out view; That in itself was negative thinking. Their King, Caesar, granted you permission to stay once he had seen the reckless abandonment of things such as empathy and understanding at the state you were in when you were found; almost torn to shreds by another Human because they saw something valuable in the things you were carrying. If they knew any better, they’d have left you alone. There was very little on you other than a few fishing hooks, a fishing reel and a sack of clothing. Often finding refuge in the ruins of old abandoned buildings, it was evident that you were not suited to fight to survive, taking advantageous leaps when you saw something that resembled Humanity's old ways.

Maybe, scanning your eyes across the river that your feet were soaking in, up to your mid-calf, torn and shredded but worn and comfortable tactical pants rolled up and barely skimming the edges of the torrent water, maybe that’s why Caesar allowed you to stay. He recognized something in you that most Humans had forgotten, had chosen to forget in a world lacking in trust. Ten years had passed, and there was still good in the world, though that bitter thought was often overlooked in favor of the Apes you had gotten to know in your last few months of staying with them, that worldly insight you always wanted to have coming to the forefront of all your actions.

They… Well, not they, you muttered to yourself and let your piercing gaze land on the crowned shoulders of the Ape Prince himself. He was teaching you all there was to know, a task that you knew was burdened on him from Caesar. While love and affection were clearly evident, it was also vividly known that the azure stare of the Ape you were staring towards also listened to his Father.

You had seen their signed conversation, one side talking, the other using hands, confused in the moment as you knew nothing of signed language, but looking back at it now it was crystal clear, clearer than his eyes themselves that even mirrored the shined gleam of the water, what was being said. Blue Eyes was determined not to be the one to deal with you, he’d rather not associate out of the fear of not knowing you, not understanding you. The adamance that he didn't want to teach you, that it was going to prove fruitless, that Koba, whose eyes followed you the entire time in search of something to tear down, was right.

Humans were not good, so why should he help you? Clueless, not up to the standards that he seemed to fake out and follow without any knowledge of your own self, your own personality and often fell in line with Koba as far as ‘every human is bad’ mentality went. Caesar had shut him down with a stern glower and explained to his Son that it was his responsibility, and if he cared to take Ash along with him, he was free to do so. But, Blue Eyes needed to teach you the ways of the Colony.

He never understood his Father’s illicit attitude towards Humans. Not… That you could blame him, letting your eyes fall down to the water around your feet and let your toes dig further into the crumbling sediment below. You… Wouldn’t trust them either. It was still there, an unworthy knot of distrust, not to say that it wasn’t mutual. Something about the way he looked at you, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as you watched his dexterous shoulders move with such pinpoint precision, something about the way he stared at you made your skin crawl, like Blue Eyes was trying to dig himself under it and nestle his way around.

Sure, some spotting glances you matched with him were out of curiosity, some were even gentle as you had shown him how to tie your shoelaces. Eye for an eye, he had taken you out to make spear heads the next day.

Last night… Feeling the sweat build up on your palms, you felt flushed with an onslaught of embarrassment when you admitted to Blue Eyes, River, Ash and Lake that… You were not good at fishing. You had to explain with fashioned hand signs, not even words but pictures with your fingers, of what a fishing pole was, spinning your hand around in a circle as you described what a reel was. What a fishing hook was, your pointer finger curled into a ‘J’ formation. How you’d sit and wait for the fishes to come to you, a really popular pastime for Humans. Hell, there were even tournaments that were broadcasted on TV! They didn't understand that, you dropped it when you saw the look of confusion on their face, not wanting to have to explain another thing about Humans.

You were laughed at, Ash deducing it to be a rather lazy way to go around it. What satisfaction did you get without actually moving in the water yourself and sitting on the shoreline and waiting? No fun! Blue Eyes had watched you looking at your knees, biting at your bottom lip for a moment as you blinked a few times, laughing silently to yourself as you nodded in agreement. There was no noise to your chortle, Blue Eyes only a few puffs of air hit him as he had been sitting adjacent to you in the closed circle.

The words from you ceased and died in the dust as he stared at you, picking the bowl of fresh berries with a content amusement to keep yourself distracted, to not say something so Human again. Tilting his head, he brought a berry to his mouth and pulled it in on his tongue languidly as he listened to Ash chattering to River about the Human way of fishing hile studying your reaction.

They were only joking, things weren’t meant to always be taken so seriously. Was it a human thing? The Prince wondered and plucked another berry into his mouth, enjoying the chew it had against his canines. To them… It did sound weird, once again, no blame to be cast for their reactions, but yours left him more perplexed.

There was a drop in Blue Eyes’ stomach like he’d eaten a sour berry as you stood without another word, not even an utterance of a ‘goodbye’ or ‘goodnight’. Down you went, he watched the climb and fall of your feet against the uneven ground, your hand raising to place against your cheek. Wh… Narrowing his gaze, he could smell the sweat and saltiness falling off you in waves as you departed.

And as you teetered your way back to the hut that was provided for you that you returned to after dinner had broken and Apes were flooding back to your family, tonight opting to return a bit earlier as you were suddenly thrusted into… How much you missed Humans, as awful as they were. How you missed being able to talk to them and have them understand you, a few sliding tears casing down your eyes and off your chin to mix into the mud below your feet.

You hadn’t heard Blue Eyes as he came to catch you before you managed your way along the slick rock. ‘Would,’ You drew a deep breath in as you looked at him in the pale light of the bonfire you were escaping from, the tears were evident on your face, Blue Eyes able to see them falling and you were doing nothing to catch them anymore.

He… He had never seen you cry, not even sure if Humans were capable. Sure, Apes were, but it wasn’t a common occurrence, their bodies not adapted with the proper tear ducts to actually produce longevity cries. You on the other hand, Blue Eyes felt his brow harden out of confusion. Were openly crying over something that you had said that was joked around about. You were looking at his hands, he suddenly realized, forgetting what he wanted to sign towards you.

‘Would… Like to know more… Human fishing.’ You were so envious that even though his fingers were thick and stocky, they were remarkable in how they moved like liquid itself and it kept you as captivated as it was to look in his gaze straight on,

“It’s really stupid, Ash is right-”

‘Not… Right. To… Make fun of something… he does not understand.’Drawing your eyebrows together at that, you tilted your head and wondered for a moment if the fish you had eaten at dinner was spoiled and you were now in a state of food-poison induced hallucinations. Blue Eyes never stood up for you, fear radiated around him that he’d be ridiculed for being different, for being too much like Caesar and the heavy hand of Koba always loomed over his actions with you, though you sensed in moments that he was looking at you while you were paying attention elsewhere, the lingering of his hands above yours as he showed you how to tie a spearhead against a thicket of wood, saving you a spot at the communal dinner when he shared with the Apes he had grown up with…

All things that were meant to keep you included, but you had often pinned that on Caesar and Blue Eyes being under direction. Nothing, it seemed, was of his own volition until now. He never cared about Human things before, about your opinions even though you had plenty to spare and kept them to yourself for this reason. Reaching up, you finally wiped away some of your tears and shrugged. “Not their fault.” You forced a smile.

‘Will you… tell me more?’

There was a moment of silence between the two of you as you looked down at him, his posture that of standing on all fours as it was his fastest means of transporting his larger body. Blue Eyes was unwavering in his stare down at you, your eyes not comfortable to meet his gaze as you nodded softly, muttering a tiny, “Can you… teach me how to fish like an Ape?”

‘Better,’ Blue Eyes signed, ‘Teach you how to fish like Chimpanzee.’

And that’s how this moment came to fruition. This moment alone. With Blue Eyes. Who was so graceful in his movements, able to hold himself confidently alongside a spear that was longer than his own height. He’d plunge it into the water without reserve, a true testament to how much more strength he had in his arms than you did. Swallowing lightly, you flexed your bicep under your jacket. Weak and flabby, nothing compared to the sheer terror of muscles that must have been hiding under Blue Eyes’ fur. You wondered for a moment, peaking your spear into the water and mixing it around like you were making a potion, if he’d ever let you touch him. Just out of curiosity! Your mind exploded, denying anything more. Out of a want to know what it… Felt like. Compared to your own, compared to the Humans you used to get showered affection from. ‘Need to hold the spear better.’

Startled straight out of your daydream of the Ape you had your focus on, Blue Eye suddenly manifested in front of you, having been a few meters away only seconds ago. Fumbling the wooden shaft in your hands, you laughed nervously at the form that was displayed. Knees brought together, balance almost non-existent as you were afraid of scraping the bottom of your foot on a sharp rock, your face suddenly flushed from the proximity of which he held himself in conjunction with your own body. Less than three inches away as he raised his own spear in demonstration.

Locking onto the formation he put himself in, he pretended to throw it into the water, Blue Eyes bringing his glance back to you. His azure gaze said it all. It was your turn to mimic him, drawing your bottom lip in, captivating his attention as you were slow to grasp the spear correctly, recalling just how easy it was for the Chimp. “Better?” You whispered, hating the waver than was in your voice.

‘Not much, entire body is off.’ Blue Eyes signing was muttered, as strange as that sounded. It was as if you were able to hear the words in your mind as he showed you them, the tone vivid in how he moved his fingers against each other. Silence once again rocketed between the two of you. Blue Eyes looked down at your legs, so long in comparison to his own and so bare without the fabric that were encasing them. The parting of your calves, fatty and tender, something that Blue Eyes felt a sudden urge to bite with his canines, tearing away his perception of what was previously felt about you, versus the bringing in nature of your knees, bony and not substantiated to hold weight like his own.

Awkward, he noted to himself and drew upwards towards the dip of your hips were he had rested for far too long, uncomfort seeping into the back of his mind, flooding his heightened senses beyond their scope of knowledge. Very… Human… Blue Eyes wanted to say and slated his gaze onto your neck, primarily your jugular and the Ape wanted nothing more than to feel the jump of your pulse against his hand, faster than an Ape? Slower than an Ape? He wanted to know. Downwards he went, meeting his thoughts in the middle of your body at your chest- muzzled inside of your jacket but he was able to see the outline of your breasts from the moments in the sun where he had been able to see through the thinner nature of your t-shirts.

That- He stiffened for just a moment and moved his own body away from yours to demonstrate stance, that was something he did not like to think about, the disgusting pull in his stomach dropping below to rest in his lower navel like he were going to upchuck at any moment. There was nothing special about them, Female Apes had the same characteristic.

You--- Yours, he dropped his eyes once more to the zipper on your jacket sitting against your collarbones, yours were different though and his own morbid curiosity struck him. He wondered if he’d ask, if you’d feel comfortable showing him, just so he knew what they looked like, just so Blue Eyes could understand more what Caesar’s infliction towards you Humans came from. Nothing more, Blue Eyes had convinced himself of that, nothing less.

‘Stand, legs,’ He patted his own muscular thigh with a free hand and managed to man-handle the spear with his other. ‘Apart. Need… good movement to go forward.’

Ah, you nodded in understanding, giving him a word that was better. “Leverage.”

That was a word he’d not heard before, bringing both hands down to grasp the spear tightly. Good movement, leverage. Nice to know, Blue Eyes and watched as you parted your knees from each other and stanced your body correctly. Well--- He pressed his lips together at your shoulders and how stiff they had become. Better than you were, he would take what he could get.

‘Need to throw hard,’ He turned his body to stand side-by-side with you, shoulder brushing your own and tingling at the polyester of your jacket that was intruding on the moment. ‘Lift,’ You both lifted at the same time, ‘Throw’. And down they went, the spears straight into the water. The laugh you gave was incredible to the Ape next to you, your head tilting back as you raised your hands above your head in a mild victory as you chanted optimism at yourself.

“Did you see that?! That was AWESOME!” Blue Eyes staggered his feet a bit, watching in curious motions as you moved towards your spear, slightly shorter than his own and plucked it straight from the water. And on the tip, laid the tiniest fish he had ever seen. Not even sure if it qualified as a fish or not, you were not one to take any losses as you waved it at Blue Eyes, “Look!!! I caught one!”

Smiling at him, you watched in baited anticipation as he looked at the small fry fish and nodded before his ample eyes looked at your lips. Smile. Blue Eyes pondered that. Was… Hm… He came forward a bit to grasp at his own spear to see if he had caught anything himself. Was that something his Father liked about Humans? Their… Smiles? Hand grasping the shaft of his spear, he looked back over at you as you admired your minuscule catch with a grin adorning your cheeks, the action taking form under your eyes as well as wrinkles took hold beside your eyes. Yes… Blue Eyes thought to himself, not even invested in seeing what he had caught himself, that must be it. Must be one of those things. Those… Human things.

Meeting Cornelius for the First Time.

It was a warmer day than usual, you took note and tilted your head back and drew in the rays of the peeking sun as it made itself known to your skin. Not much, it was still a cloud laden sky but it was better than nothing, muggy around the edges from the constant bombardment of rain that swept through the landscape, but nothing too unbearable and it felt amazing to soak in the warmth to keep yourself toasty for the inevitable chill that was going to follow in the evening.

There was quite a lively step to the Apes that were strolling by you as if the weather itself reminded them that they actually had fun things to do that day and it was easy to feel unmotivated and sullen in the gray rain, the bonfire a few meters away glowering a simmered orange as it was not needed for heat today, but you knew it would be stoked back to life to enjoy the blaze once dinner rolled right around. The flame itself now was hardly detectable as you looked down at it and smiled softly as you captured your attention on Blue Eyes, having just said goodbye to Ash.

Forearms were grasped together as they laughed, Blue Eyes himself standing and watching as his friend departed, a notion that was incredibly endearing and you found it difficult not to feel a surge in your heart as he dropped down onto all fours to begin his journey to find something to keep him busy. Shouldn’t be easy, you thought to yourself and smiled down at your hands, he was remarkably good at keeping himself up to tasks, even if it meant doing the smaller things no one else wanted.

Based on the position you could see the Sun in, it was time for a mid-day grazing of sorts, something even yourself took solace in from time to time. Too busy during the actual day to sit down for meals, instead, baskets of berries and some meat were sat on display in the communal area for those who wanted something to sustain them until the evening meal rolled around. That got you curious as he drifted himself towards it, down the slanted nature of the ground below you and to the left.

Blue Eyes didn't eat outside of morning and evening, your brain scratching itself at the fact that you knew his antics down like that. Drawing your knees out, you stretched them from their curled in position as you had been seated cross-legged and urged your body to stand. It did, your knees faltering for a moment as you urged the dead nerves awake and moved towards the baskets that Blue Eyes was scouring with his gaze.

“Can’t find something good?” He must have sensed you coming as he so often did, shaking his head without even looking at you as the Ape signed at you one handed, ‘Want to bring something up to Mother.’’ Your eyes dawned in realization. Cornelia had given birth a week ago - Mentally, you slapped your head as the puzzle pieces came tumbling down. Caesar often brought her meals if she needed to rest, if he didn't want her to move from the nest as she had not been feeling well. And Caesar was gone with the council to scout some Human settlement that was embarking on the Colony’s outer east gate. It was rare that he left the Colony alone, and he must have set Blue Eyes to watch after Cornelia. “Do you need help?” Blue Eyes looked over at you for a moment before glancing down at the entanglement of two arms and two legs that he was holding against his chest, tiny fingers that were lighter than fur grasping so tightly at the fur on his chest, careful to not touch at the gaping scars that rested against his broad shoulder and down to encase his pectoral. You lingered there for a moment, silently thanking whoever would hear that they were beginning to heal and weren’t showing signs of infection. A chitter tore you from your admiration of that aspect of Blue Eyes. Grasping tightly at his older Brother’s fur to leverage himself against Blue Eyes’ forearm so they could analyze you, green eyes that were so gentle but held so much power by proxy, stared right at you as your mouth fell open. The human part of you wanted to shriek and go on about how cute he was. How precious, and how small but the innate primal part of your mind tore that down at the idea that he was going to one day be as big, as intimidating as Caesar himself. But--- You bent down, Blue Eyes confident enough now to let you in a bit more, stayed stagnant. So cute! “Hi-his name is Cornelius, right? After your Mother?” Blue Eyes only nodded and let you raise your hand up cautiously for Cornelius to grasp a hold of your pointer finger. Blue Eyes himself was unsure if his brother would take the bait, it wasn’t uncommon for baby Chimps to be a bit reserved so close to being born, choosing to cling to those they knew best as it was a dangerous place, the world around them. But--- Blue Eyes saw the smile fluttering against your cheeks, the pull back as you bared your teeth, not in defense or intimidation, but it glee at seeing a baby, something not all too common now as it took Females years at times to reproduce, but with their booming numbers it was becoming more of a mainstay, twenty, if not more, young already raised and being taught by Maurice. Blue Eyes felt confident to at least let you try to greet the new Prince.

It was certainly not something that Blue Eyes took salvage in, at least for the time being. He loved his brother, surely, but he was a young Ape who did not necessarily feel the pull towards that lifestyle yet. Something in his mind knew it would happen as he looked at the crown of your head in contemplation, not able to see your face any longer from the angle of which you had yourself. Surely… Blue Eyes shifted his feet minutely. He would find a mate to carry his young. Someday. Certainly… Not… Now… He heard you laugh as Cornelius lightly released his right hand from his big brother, from the security of the known and wandered the tiny fingers towards your pointer, coming in the scarcest contact with the very, very tip.. “Hi Cornelius. I’m (Name).” Brow ridge stiffened at the sound of your voice, so mild and gentle, soothing almost as a thought crossed Blue Eyes’ mind. Were… Were you familiar with babies? At least, Human ones? You’d never brought it up… Well, there was never really any conversation to bring it up in but the inquiry still stood as he admired the way you lifted your finger a bit and brought it back down, Blue Eyes recognizing the motion as a hand-shake of sorts that you had taught him about a few months ago. His mouth was open as you drew yourself into a crouched position to get a better look at the baby.

His fur appeared softer as it was back dropped against Blue Eyes, his touch barely more than a cusp before he drew his minuscule hand towards his and dug it back to the familiarity of Blue Eyes’ broad chest, giving a muffled yawn before rustling his face into the warm. Blue Eyes reacted, holding a bit more tightly, forearm stiffening before relaxing as Cornelius coo’ed ever so gently. “He’s tired.” You commented hap-hazardly, not expecting to get any conversation back.

Instead, you dallied and looked up at Blue Eyes himself. His movements seemed so natural, like he was born to do this, holding a baby in his arms as your mind raced with the idea that… You were right in thinking that Blue Eyes would eventually become a Father himself as he had already proven himself a mighty hunter, provider as he was taking care of his Mother and skilled in more aspects than one. Your gut churned at the idea that he was eventually going to abandon you for another even though he wasn’t yours, even though you weren’t his despite having grown closer and closer by the day. Jealousy was not befitting of you, you knew that but Blue Eyes was just so--- So…

Handsome, your eyes drew themselves along his face, lingering a moment on the injury under his right eye with a twinge of empathy, and felt hear sitting at the back of your throat, surely not as bit as Caesar but with time he was going to be, caring and thoughtful, something that came as a surprise to you once Blue Eyes finally started opening up to you, after you had been here for over a year. He garnered much attention from the Female Apes of the Colony, yourself included as shameful as that was to admit. But, you stood no chance at that, writing the feelings floating around in your stomach as nothing more than a fantasy, catching glances with Blue Eyes as you were still crouched, almost between his legs. “Y-You seem really good with him.” Clearing your throat, you rose and Blue Eyes took quite an exquisite note that your voice now seeme hush as Cornelius drug himself into another well deserved nap. “I’ve never seen one so… small before. The others,” Gesturing vaguely behind you as if Maurice had just brought the young Apes to you for Blue Eyes to look at, “They’re bigger, able to walk on their own and speak and I---”

Cornelius grunted quietly against Blue Eyes’ chest and your heart fell onto the floor out of intense crazed want to have one yourself despite knowing that realistically, it wasn’t going to happen in your life and you were more than okay with that, most of the time… Most… Blue Eyes was staring at you and caught your glance. Yes… You muttered in your mind and drew your lips in before popping them lightly as he was wondering where you were going with the conversation, apparent in the question that was written in his mouth. You were okay with not having one! It was probably for the best.

‘Are you?’

“A-Am I what?” Rubbing your hands on the front of your pants, you suddenly felt nervous and grasped a small bowl, now too eager to help Blue Eyes assemble something for Cornelia.

‘Good… With… Young?’

“W-What?” Laughing, you shook your head at the bluntness of his question, not terribly out of character for at times, Blue Eyes did speak and ask what was on his mind, unaware of the social status that went into the more nuanced conversations. Why did he want to know this all of a sudden? You asked yourself and placed a handful of raspberries down, coating your fingers in a wash of red juices. Maybe he was recruited by Caesar to help you with the young and Maurice, to teach them. Yeah, you scoffed at your audacity. Like that was going to happen.

“A-Are you aski-- Asking me if I’m good with babies?” There was a verbal hint of self-deprecation as you were unable to stop yourself from sputtering. Blue Eyes only nodded, watching your shoulders move as you prepared a bowl for him, something he hadn’t asked you to do, but let you as he knew it to be a form of affection in some way. He did not understand it, but he wasn’t one to deny affection from you, whether that was receiving or more rarely giving. You looked over your shoulder at him and then down towards Cornelius who had his entire face smushed into Blue Eyes fur, so warm and so comforting you felt a pang of jealousy that you’d never be able to hold him in the same way as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I--- Don’t have much experience. Even be-before the Flu I wasn’t arou-around a lot of Human Babies,” The two Princes seemed so enthralled in your words as you spoke, hands coming to a slower stop, “Baby Apes are different, same in a lot of ways but..." You lingered your stare on Cornelius head which Blue Eyes reached up to lightly adjust him for comfort, earning himself a rather distasteful groan from the child. “Not the same.” ‘Never…’ Blue Eyes stopped when you looked forward again and dropped his hand. Turning around, you gave him a brief smile and held out the bowl you had prepared for him to take to his Mother. Then, Blue Eyes took his chance, a silent plea that maybe your answer would garner him some insight as to why he felt the urge to be with you that way, to take you and have a child, as fruitless as it was to actually happen in reality. ‘Never thought of having one?’

“I can’t think like that, Blue Eyes. You know that.” You were stern and handed him the bowl a bit more forcefully, almost out of defense. “I can’t. There--- You know….” Carefully, with his free hand, he took the wicker bowl from you and watched you shuffle your feet, shoulders rising and falling in minor regret for getting snappy at him, “I’m the only Human here, I don’t think---”

Gesturing vaguely between your body and his own, you sighed in defeat and finally looked him square in the eyes, the Ape stiffening at the sudden connection and feeling the heart in his chest skipping a beat, “I think there was a reason the Flu killed so many of us… Me… Having more? Doesn’t… Doesn’t make sense no matter how much I’d like to have one.”

‘Never considered Ape?’ It was his turn to be a bit more forceful with you, not even sure if there was any logic in his signs. Apes and Humans never… Supplied a child, never had it come out to fruition, at least in vague notions that Blue Eyes imagined. It wasn’t talked about, and it certainly wasn’t discussed between a Human and an Ape. He scorned the inside of his mind for being so forward, taking it onto being too tired from taking care of both his brother and mother.

But, still the answer clung to the air around you as you contemplated an answer. There was a flat lie, a no. There was a flat truth, a yes. I’ve thought about it with you, Blue Eyes, you wanted to say and fall right into his arms with Cornelius. Love me and let me carry your offspring for the future of the Colony. Yeah, that was going to go well.

“Maybe.” You uttered quietly, settling into a state of unease at the fact that you had only given him half an answer, looking away towards an unfixed point in the distance before teetering back down to look at Cornelius. So small and soothed by Blue Eyes, so protected and wrapped in the muscles that would do anything to keep him safe. A smile split against your cheeks while you looked at him, well aware that Blue Eyes was waiting for a more sturdy answer. “I feel like I should be asking you that, more like it.”

Raising your eyebrows at Cornelius, Blue Eyes looked down at him and then back towards you at the implication you had just given him. Thankful that he was able to read that sort of stuff now as you had been subtly giving away your secrets of non-verbal, non-signing communication, Blue Eyes felt a flurry of panic hit the back of his mind.

He was… Not good at lying. Not good at deducing his own feelings for you which often left him stumbled just the moment he was in, but lying was a good second place. Your glances were captivating him to answer honestly. That… Yes… He had been thinking about it, thinking about it not with any of the Female Apes that he was oblivious to, their advancements not noticeable in the longer stream that you were able to give him. Yes, he thought about it with you and even admitting it inside of his mind caused Blue Eyes to dive into even more panic that was now evident in his eyes as you chuckled, nodding your head as you understood the same sentiment. “I was just joking.” You said quietly, moving your feet silently against the rocks, “Don’t need to worry about that now, huh? Not the right time.” You could say that again, Blue Eyes exhaled hard and nodded as you walked by him, placing a fleeting hand on his shoulder as you left him with one more statement, “Take those up to your Mom. I bet she’s hungry and Blue,” He flew at the tone you used with the nickname you had given him, the Ape careful but fast to turn around to catch you walking away from him, your legs, so long and sleek compared to his own, agile in where you stepped in case it was slick from the rain of the evening before. “Don’t worry about having your own. We’re young. We should enjoy it while we have it.” And in silence, leaving behind just a waft of your scent for him to bask in and leave him absolutely stunted in a haze, Blue Eyes watched you disappear behind the cliff side that escalated the Colony and kept it secure. Swallowing, the looked at the bowl and Cornelius before trailing behind you, slower as to let your words really seep into his soul, into his mind so he could analytically take them apart as he so often did in solitude.

What… Did you mean by that? Enjoying it while we have it? What did you have? What did he have? What… Narrowing his eyes on you as you came back into view, going to pester Maurice by the look of your gait and your direction. Was that a Human expression? If it was, Blue Eyes hadn't heard that one yet and promptly added it to the ever growing dictionary you were giving him.There was only one more question to remain now. What was in store for the two of you to enjoy together?

Piano.

You were deathly quiet, Blue Eyes had a hard time figuring out your moods when you weren’t facing him, when you weren’t speaking and he was able to detect the small fluctuations of your tone, some so happy and joyous that he felt the same bubbling inside of him, some defensive and cold that would tear him down into pieces if you were to ever direct those words to himself, some distant and reminiscent, much like you were holding yourself in front of him shoulders laxed and your eyes ample, staring into the building in front of you. One that Blue Eyes had stumbled across, not sure what it was, not sure what the items inside were but they were interesting enough to garner him asking you to come with him, a bid to get you alone and a desperate plea for you to explain things to him that he did not understand.

The crunch of glass tore Blue Eyes away from the lack of conversation, albeit it was always quiet around the two of you and he felt his hands ghosting around your hips as you hiked your body upwards to squeeze through the doorway that was jammed with the crushed door itself and pattered onto the ground inside. Hands dropped slowly by his side, contemplating if… He should follow you. Or if he should just stand watch and let you enjoy things about the past that… Blue Eyes felt he would intrude. The wonderment that must have torn against your eyes seeing Humanity on display again, the intrigue you had as you scanned the items with your gaze and then with your hands and wiping away the years of neglect with a caress of tenderness, Blue Eyes wanting nothing more than you to do the same to him like he was a marvel himself but---

He looked down at what he was able to see of the silver scar against his chest, two years gone from that moment but the tear of agony you gave him upon seeing it, not even knowing him at that time, sent him flying into the abyss of thought that if you were able to feel empathy towards an Ape like him, there was the idea that you were able to feel more. Blue Eyes was just that.

An Ape. And you… Human… There was no way, even in the fleeting moments when your hands had met and you were too flushed to tear them away, even in those silent moments when you laughed at something he had signed at you, hand grasping your chest like you were not able to breathe. Empathy was one thing but to feel something greater was out of the realm of his possibilities… He posed again though… Would you accept him if he followed you through?

He thought quietly and heard you trifling around by the door where you had landed, very obviously waiting for him as you were one to never venture off on your own even if he gave you the permission, telling you that he was just a call away. He knew nothing of what was inside as he dropped onto all fours and crawled in himself, careful of the glass that was shattered and glimmered on the floor as the sun bounced off it. He knew nothing about what you knew, about what you were seeing… It was covered in dust, all the way down to the floor was the first thing that he noticed, a few streams of light coming in from the ceiling where pieces had worn and fallen to the ground below in a devastating form. Despite that, you urged your body forward looking at what was inside like it was treasure itself. “It’s a music store.” You spotted some cardboard cutout notes that were dangling by a thread against the northern wall, a few spattered words encased forever against the painted walls.

‘Music Sheets’ it read, sweeping over to the other legible writings ‘string and wind’. Blue Eyes stayed near the door, scooting himself inwards enough that he was able to perch himself on the ground without getting his back thighs covered with shards of broken glass and pieces of tiny metal from where the door had rusted and began falling apart. Music? Tilting his head, he bore holes into the back of your head.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” You laughed and came rounding a few pieces of piano keys that were dancing their way across the ground in their monochromatic fashion. “You guys have drumming you know like…” Patting your hand rhythmically against your thigh, the reverb of the room was incredible and the sound captivated Blue Eyes’ ears. “That’s a sort of music. But other kinds of music… There’s a lot.” ‘Like?’ Blue Eyes signed for you, feverish in anticipation.

“Like…” You hummed a small tune under your breath, the tone throwing into the air and catapulting it towards the Ape. He--- Confused at that, he looked at your throat and then back at your mouth where the sound was scratching from. Humans were able to make vocal digressions like that?! Like Apes? Blue Eyes opened his mouth and hooted in response which garnered him a laugh from you.

“Basically. You got the idea.” He felt praised and puffed his chest out a bit as you came to sit in front of a rectangular looking piece of… Wood. Carved, it appeared, matching the perch you were atop of. The keys themselves were not familiar to you, you had not been much of a player even though you were forced to take lessons as a child. You wondered, pressing your fingers to the dusty keys and feeling a sense of familiarity hit you as the creaking of the seat you were on played against the groaning of the piano pedal that you were moving downwards with your foot.

That alarmed Blue Eyes, thinking the sound to be that of an animal and he was quickly there by your side in defense, chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes looked around the room for the danger he had heard. “This is called a piano. That sound,” You raised your foot and it made it again, coming from the lower half of the object as Blue Eyes snarled at it slightly causing you to shake your head and turn your body towards him, “There’s pedals on the bottom that… Help it make music.”

‘Sounds awful.’ He grimaced at it and looked at you in curiosity, ‘Does not sound good, this…’ He stopped speaking when he realized he had no signed word for it. Not daring to speak the word out of fear of speaking it incorrectly, he just looked into your eyes a bit deeper and hoped you understood where he was going.

“That’s not the music. I said it helps.” You giggled lightly, your formed grin captivating him until a desolate note rang against his ear. Something… He’d never heard before. Something… Floaty… So far away from the placement it needed, so far away in melody that Blue Eyes felt something hit his chest at the sound as vibrations hit the bottom of his feet and he let out a small growl, not out of displeasure, but out of not knowing what you had just done when you pressed your finger against one of the white nearly gray now from years of non-use and dust that settled, prongs on the based shaft of the rectangle.

“That’s music. There’s these… Strings, thin like twine inside of it…” You raised a hand and pressed it against the cross body bag that he had chosen to carry with him, more for you in case you found some small items you wanted to take back to the Colony. Dragging the faded leather outwards, you let it sink back towards Blue Eyes’ body, leaving him feeling the hackles rise against his shoulder at the fact that you were so close to the scars on his chest. “It plucks to make a note--- To make… Music.”

He looked at the keys for a moment before choosing to look at you instead. ‘This… thing… The sound…’ The Prince was slow to sign to you not out of necessity anymore as you were getting better by the day with your ability to communicate that way, but out of torn confusion. One part of him understood the basic premise of what you were telling him but the other? Twine that plucked to make a sound? Sure, normal twine would do that if you held it and tightened it to its wits end, but this… Was different.

Resonant as he admired the way your fingers trickled across the white base and black underscores. He could see your fingertips imprinting more against the black as you twiddled two fingers against them. ‘Can I… try? Making…’ Your eyes fluttered towards his own at the sight of his question, lips parting in anticipation of him wanting to finish as the word appeared to be on the tip of both of your tongues. “Mu--- Music.” Crystal clear, beaming him a smile, you nodded and patted the bench next to you once you scooted, leaving the swipe of your thighs behind that was encased by Blue Eyes body as he sat next to you.

The bench creaked once more out of the desperation it needed to keep both of you situated, years leading to its demise but it still felt sturdy enough. “Just press any of them. If you press down here,” Your hand hovered the left side, “They’re going to make a really, really deep noise and if you play up here,” You moved and felt your arm sliding against Blue Eyes hands that he had ready in front of his body, causing him to feel heated and unsure of what he was actually doing. “They’re going to come out really… High pitched, like a bird.”

Blue irises slide from side to side, now unable to choose where he wanted to press, unable to decide if deeper was better or if higher was better. You hadn’t explained to him the middle that was almost aligned with your stomach, Blue Eyes staring at that section before he tore his gaze up your body. Unsureness was tendered in his stance as he stiffened up beside you, eager to get his hands away from his Human object and to move onto something less intimidating, something he was able to more heartedly understand.

“Here.” You whispered lightly, looking at the side of his face and letting your hand rest right on top of the back of his. “Spread… Your fingers out. Like you’re holding a branch.” Blue Eyes was still hesitant as he looked over at you, afraid even more now that your face was only a few inches away from his own and he was able to see in full sweep your entire face, from the entrancement of your eyes, to the heat that was falling off of you like waves, to the curt nod you gave him in reassurance.

Blue Eyes spread his fingers out for you, gasping to himself and holding his breath when you splayed your fingers on top of his. “Just…” You urged him downwards towards the piano key, “Like this…” They rested against them, so cold and unfamiliar to him. Smoothed. Unnaturally, there was no way that a rock gliding against another was able to garner such unforgiving sleekness.

“It’s okay,” You whispered right into his ear, admiring how small your hand looked above his own as you pressed your pointer finger down on his own, “Just… Let yourself… Hold it…” Blue Eyes felt no other exhilaration at the moment as the note shot right through him like electricity. Straight to the very depths of his core, rattling him against you as he turned to look at you once more, seeking comfort and assurance that the was doing it correctly. “Just like that! That’s how you make music!”

The breath he had been holding was finally released as he tore his hand away from the keys, curling them into their regular ‘C’ shaped position. He--- Did not like that. This thing, this… Piano. But, the longer he looked at his impressed fingerprint against it, peering over at your hand that had been touching him, he could spare his ill-will towards it for just a second more as he signed, ‘Show me again… Another. Darker one.’

“Black key?”

He nodded eagerly, watching as you brought your hand towards his own once more, and without a word or without any explanation anymore, there was no need, you drew his fingers against your own, savoring in the sensation of his leathery skin against your more gentle and delicate palm and urged him down, as far down as he wanted to go, you thought and watched the side of his face intently. There was a scowl against his lips, still unsure and still uneasy about the moment. His eyes were flickering wildly between your cusped hands and your face.

You would lead him, always… You thought to yourself and smiled at him. As long as he lead you, his palm encased the white keys first as you tendered his fingers against the black keys near middle ‘C’, you would follow, and it appeared that it was the same way around as you urged him right into the shell of his ears, urging him to take your advice, to follow suit and to give it his best. “Press down, Blue. Play some music for me.”

#blue eyes #blue eyes x reader #planet of the apes #pota #planet of the apes x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #pota fanfic #pota fanfiction

189 notes · View notes

mythicmanuscripts · 4 months ago

Note

Okay, the person who sent the vampire ask awakened something in me, because all my faves from HOTD fit at least one trope of vampire romance/erotica.

We've already established pretty boy Aegon (as usual, love that for him).

I totally agree that Aemond fits in the vampire role (I mean, look at his aesthetic. Boy's right at home there), where he's smitten with a human and refuses to acknowledge that he was basically stalking them at the beginning, until said human calls him out and shows no fear of him, they're just pissed off. And that does it, he's down even worse than he already was.

I feel Daemon and Rhaenyra would also fit vampire roles, with Daemon being the one who turned Rhaenyra, and she took to being a vampire like a fish to water. I think they'd be the type that has several "partners" they feed from, on a somewhat regular basis, but they also enjoy "hunting" every now and again, Daemon especially. They don't kill anyone, but they do enjoy the fear they can feel from the person they're feeding from.

Then One human shows up that seems immune to both Daemon's charms, and threaths, and Rhaenyra is living for it, she's having the time of her life watching him being flustered. And that's how they end up with a regular partner, not just in the feeding sense.

And of course, our boy Jace. I just feel like he would be such a good fit for an ingenue kinda trope? Noble birth, slightly sheltered, intelligent as hell, maybe too curious for his own good. He stumbles upon a vampire feeding on someone, nearly killing them, and ends up conflicted when he finds out the person was a reprehensible sort of criminal (like, heavy shit, type of criminal). And he keeps seeking the vampire out, even after being turned away because he's a stranger at that point, they don't trust him.

But he's relentless, and gets himself into trouble, and the vampire saves him, and he's head over heels for them.

TRULY INCREDIBLE THOUGHTS HERE OH MY GOD?? Anon I love you.

I'm gonna write a little bit about each of these ideas and then we can go from there! All ideas in this AU will be tagged with 'supranational!au' so block that if you don't want to see this or search it to see everything thus far :))

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

AEGON:

Okay I know this anon didnt even mention much about him but I must briefly discuss pretty boy Aegon!!! Pretty boy Aegon who just absolutely ADORES the vampire who fucked his brains out that one time and now he's obsessed.

Everyone else thinks you're absolutely terrifying, and for good reason, but does Aegon care? No absolutely not. In fact, he gets rid of his personal kings guard and just has you instead. The kings guard can patrol the keep and stand watch outside his quarters but none of them even get close to him anymore because he's got a vampire behind him at all times.

And just one more quick thing about Aegon: originally you don't intend to only drink from Aegon because you don't want to put that much pressure on him and risk harming him. Aegon, however, is very possessive and will be very unhappy if you feed from another.

AEMOND:

Absolutely love the idea that Aemond essentially stalked someone for a solid two weeks without even knowing. Even better if you actually knew he was following you. He's not exactly subtle about it, especially because if he's standing behind you then anyone in front of you will look utterly terrified.

The way that you interact with him without fear just gets him completely hooked and yeah you just have a vampire following you around now.

Also, I kinda love the idea that Aemond actually doesn't seem capable of being the same level dangerous and skilled when he's around you? It's like he gets your scent or your attention or lord help him your blood and he just... brain off. No more Aemond.

DAEMON AND RHAENYRA:

Okay I LOVE this idea and I can't believe I never considered this concept with them. I definitely agree Daemon would have changed Rhaenya and then hunt together regularly. They're absolutely a couple that would love to fuck whoever they're feeding from at the same time.

I think Rhaenyra would be interested in you first. She'd sport you and have a conversation with you and discover that he really likes talking to you (and complaining about every single member of her small council because of course). You only meet Daemon about a week later, maybe when Rhaenyra invites you to dinner with them. Of course she had told Daemon all about you, and Daemon was certainly excited thinking they'd get a good feed and bed partner out of this.

To Daemon's dismay and Rhaenyra's delight, you don't even react to any of Daemon's attempts at flirting and seduction. You just listen to him and smile, but don't seem flustered at all.

Originally Rhaenyra had hoped to bed you with Daemon that night, but now that she's watching how worked up Daemon is becoming and how good you are at handling him? Well she's more than happy to have a front row seat to your interactions with Daemon.

For the next 3 weeks Daemon is adamant that they will never bring you into their bed, not for sex or for a feed or for both. Rhaenyra just nods and smiles to herself becasue she knows with absolute certainty that you absolutely will end up in bed with them. If Daemon truly didnt want to fuck you then he wouldnt still be talking about you weeks later.

The very first sexual thing to happen is you and Rhaenyra fucking while Daemon can only watch. He had finally made one too many ridiculous comments and so you put him in his place.

And so, Rhaenyra gets to sleep with you and drink from you while all her husband may do is watched. Eventually when you're satisfied with Daemon's punishment, you allow him to come join you two in bed. He ends up drinking from you while Rhaenyra strokes him.

The last thing he says before he falls asleep is to mumble, "We are never letting you out of this bed"

JACAERYS:

Absolutely love the thought of Jace just sort of stumping into a vampire. Maybe he was in a dodgy part of town? Like maybe he had been dragged out by Aegon but then Aegon abandoned him and now he has no idea where he is. It's while he's wandering around trying to find his way that he finds you.

You're feeding when he sees you, and as much as you want to just ignore him, he's far too pretty and far too scared for that. I think he'd run away at first, and you cant figure out why you did this, but you run after him. And it's damn good that you did becasue you find him being cornered by some people who clearly want to mug him.

Needless to say none of them made it to first light. Once they've all been dealt with, you look at Jace and he is just in awe. You escort him back to the red keep and think that's that.

Except no of course it's not Jace is desperate to find you again, and so maybe... maybe he goes back to that very dodgy area, just wandering around on his own and trying to spot you.

135 notes · View notes

vvluvmai · 4 months ago

Text

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑵

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(adj.) feeling sad and lonely because of unrequited love

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥕᥲrᥒ . Fem reader, ooc kaiser?, angst w/o comfort

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsᥙm . Years and years went by, the prideful man kept his secrets to himself, his ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ most troubling one being love, love he had for his best friend since ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ childhood. And to see her with another man, laughing and hugging, on the ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤday he had built up enough courage to apologise and maybe even confess ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤto the very person he had been in love and loving in secret for many years, it ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤshattered whatever hope he had been holding onto for years. For the boy ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ cried himself to sleep that day, and everytime his mind so cruelly reminds ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ him of that fateful day.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥴһᥲr . Micheal Kaiser.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcᥕ .This was written way before kaiser’s backstory was revealed but I tried putting ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ in elements of kaiser's personality and updated it a lil, and also, my writing ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ has gotten rusty after MONTHS of not writing so pls 🐻 with me <3 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤrushed(?), ooc, kinda cringe, drabble.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥲᥒ . This is a pretty short drabble, lemme know if yall would like me into a bigger ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ more clarified fic!!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ☃︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Michael was your typical highschool popular asshole. Even to his friends, he'd throw them under the bus just for shits and giggles. But yet, he had the tiniest of a soft side for his best friend, one who he.. at least treated as a human being. You'd always listen to him, his troubles, his gossip, hell, even about the most incoherent rants he blabbered out whenever he drank too much. He was much like his dad; a drunken, sentimental asshole.

Even at his most vulnerable moments such as..being drunk, his mind still somehow managed to keep a thick, strong wall protecting him against the judging hearts of others no matter how much he trusted or felt comfortable with them. Yet he felt comfortable in your arms when he angrily or stupidly rant about whatever bothered his mind, and at his worst, he'd cry in your arms completely unresponsive. Which has only happened once, an incident he swears never happened and continues to gaslight you into thinking it truly never happened.

Michael has always despised crying, growing up with both his mother and father belittling him whenever he cried because of the scoldings and punishments he gets for being what most would call a ‘problem child'.

And as a result of this, he'd always suck up his tears no matter how blurry his eyes get or no matter how much his eyes burn, never making a single decibel of sound no matter how much he felt like he needed to sob and bawl even when there's that mind numbing feeling of barbed wires tightening around his neck and digging into his body and killing every need to run and run far away.

Even if no one was around, he'd just simply let the tears fall, his body still as a rock and not making a sound. But he liked it this way. This way, no one would know that he was nothing more than a ‘schwache Heulsuse’. This way, no one would see those crystal tears that dared to run away from his eyes and thus, no one would be able to call him a ‘Weichei’ or ‘Rückgratlose Scheiße’ as his parents did. And to most, he'd seen like he's sleeping if it weren't for the tight grip of his pillow and the constant scratching of his arms to distract him from the pain that clouded his heart emotionally.

Michael's sarcastic and narcissistic personality was yet another result of his childhood and the constant drowning out whatever negative thoughts came to cloud his mind; hurling insults and gossiping helped keep his mind off what he'd have to endure at home. Constantly taunting, teasing, poking fun no matter who it was. But when it came to you, oh, you, people would die from shock to see how he was with you behind closed doors. A smile so genuine and soft, laughs so happy and beautiful and the way the corners of his eyes would crinkle and pupils shine when he was with you, timeless and worth admiring.

If only he'd let go of that habit of his, pushing others away when got too close to his heart. And maybe then, he'd have you with him, smiling and laughing the same way he did when he was with you.

Well, highschool has passed. And now he was at blue lock, fighting for his life, rendering his enemies to mere shame to fill that disgusting—as he called it—aching void in his chest. The victory of defeating his opponents were always short lived, 5 seconds of the feeling of glory that vanished as fast as it came, but for cameras he maintained that smug, proud and confident face in hopes that maybe one day, the unrequited love of his life would leave her boyfriend for him.

He knew it was a shitty thought, the most pathetic and the most low he'll ever stoop to. But he couldn't care anymore, for someone who has gotten everything he ever wished for, this was that one thing that seemed so far away and ever so fleeting. Ah, if only he was more trusting. If only his arrogant and ignorant self could've let down the walls he built to keep the judgement of others at bay, so that he could be himself with the only person who actually cared.

He got everything he wanted, but not what he needed.

And now he had to face the mistakes of his way haunting him whenever he went out to clear his mind. Even then, she'd never leave him be. Her, so stubborn, that even now she refused to abandon him like all the others. Even if she was gone physically, she was still there in his mind constantly. His whole body tormented him, his eyes faking the illusions of her, his mind constantly bringing up the moments of comfort, laughter and banter he had with her. And the painful, disgusting, torturous moments where he made her cry, arguments, disagreements and shouting. And that one specific moment where his life had ended, when his life decided to walk far away from him was the moment that still kept him company, physically reminding him of what he had lost.

And now, his life was back to haunt him again. This time, it was no trick orchestrated by his eyes and mind to taunt him again, this time, it was real and he could swear on his bloodline.

The fashion he wore ever so immaculately, designed to flaunt his wealth, power and 'confidence', had people turning their heads in a whiplash. Michael looked around, looking for a store to waste money on and in the midst of his search, but his eyes caught a familiar face laughing.

Eyes widening in quick realisation as he kept walking forward that it was her, (name). The tiniest of smiles graced his face, little hopes clinging to his heart that he could fix what he broke months ago. But soon enough, all little hopes washed away like the shore when his eyes saw that (name) as clinging on to the arm of another man as they both waited for the red light to go green. Smiling, laughing and gleeful. Never had she looked this at peace, this joyful with him and it served fuel to the growing angering pit in his stomach. A pit of fury, hatred, anxiety and hurt all directed to none other than himself, for he knew that he was at fault.

Hidden in the bustling crowds, kaiser stood quietly. Face blank except for the way his eyes had seemed a little more dull than usual, mind full. His eyes blankly watched the red go green, and the standing couple walk.

Again, he watched his life woke away from him. And again, he was reminded,

He had everything he wanted, but not everything he needed.

♯

𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 —

Rückgratlose Scheiße - Spineless shit

Schwache Heulsuse - weak crybaby

Weichei - wimp

Thank you so much to all my clouds for waiting for so long, I'm not dead, I'm just dealing with abit IRL <33

tags: @kaiserkisser

#kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader angst #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #kaiser x you angst #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #michael kaiser x reader angst #bllk angst #bllk kaiser #kaiser bllk #michael kaiser angst

78 notes · View notes

bluecookies02 · 10 months ago

Text

When words fail me, kiss the secrets off my lips-[trans!levi x reader]

summary:

"Can you promise me something then?”. “When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.”

Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.

He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.

He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut. He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again.

//or//

Levi's mother had to do whatever she thought was best for his survival underground. He's 34 now and he has been keeping a secret for as long he can remember.

Can he let himself trust someone to keep it? Just this once.

cw: Angst with a Happy Ending, Scissoring, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Virgin Levi

word count: 5.5k

Roughly thirty years ago, Kuchel, an underground prostitute had a child. In the secrecy of her run-down hotel room, she gave birth all alone.

Bringing a child into this world and surrounding it with filth and violence was not something she wished for.

She grieved the life her child could've had, if only she was born somewhere else.

If only this beautiful kid in her bloody arms was blessed enough to be born by someone else, someone who could give this child the life where it would not know hunger, fear, and desperation of the underground city from the moment it opened its eyes.

The child was tiny, awfully malnourished, yet its hands gripped tightly onto her pinky finger as she carried them both to the bathroom. She vowed to sacrifice everything for it the moment its beautiful eyes sparked up at her and its cries of life reached her ears. She promised to love this child, even if its conception came from anything but.

______________

Levi’s earliest memories of his mother consist of gentle touches and soft and shaky lullabies she would sing after a client would leave the hotel, throwing a pathetic amount of cash on the floor for her to gather up on her knees.

Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter. Levi was raised as a boy.

Today, there is only one living person that carries this secret.

It was the first thing Kuchel would have to do in order to protect her kid. Not only to keep it safer while it grew up but for the fear that her daughter would end up following in her footsteps, meeting the same hell she was soon to endure.

It served Levi well in the great scheme of things.

He had to adapt to being alone, putting on a cold facade so that nobody came close enough to uncover what his mother gave her life to keep hidden.

Repulsed by touch due to his upbringing made it easier, the desire to be close to people buried deep under years of cries and screams of horror he had to listen to in his earliest years of life. Some came from his own mother, others from women alike. They were everywhere, no matter what corner of the underground you hid in, someone, somewhere was desperately trying to get prying hands off of them.

______________

Adapting to life in the scouts took years.

Not reacting violently to a friendly pat on the back required hard work on his end. Those who hadn't seen him in his first days outside still think he's a savage when he brushes hands off his shoulders or creates space between himself and cheering groups after an expedition.

There were a handful of moments when the desire to hug someone was almost unbearable, an impulse that made him sick to his stomach and his knees weak.

His friends, comrades, the man who raised him. All of which happened when the life inside their eyes seemed to completely fade and they were too weak or too far gone to hug him back.

‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.

A human mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either you let your regrets pull you down into pits of insanity, or you create a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on your soul that much lighter.

____________

“‘Vi? Are you alright?” your voice snaps Levi out of his thoughts. The bottom of his teacup comes into view as he regains his focus.

He hums, looking up at you, spread out on his couch, peeking over your book with a concerned look on your face.

It's been roughly a year and a half since Levi fell in love for the first time in his life, at the late age of 33. A year of which he spent trying to crush that feeling any way he possibly could.

You sitting there, freely and unafraid like you own the space he lives in, proves that his efforts were futile.

Seven months ago, after an expedition, Levi hugged you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs, almost landing both of you on the ground. It progressed slowly from there.

Not only was the progress agonizingly slow, but it was also terribly rocky. Screaming matches, cold shoulders, silent treatments, venomous words flying off of both of your tongues before one of you inevitably admits defeat and knocks on the other's door in the middle of the night.

Levi's ego won't let him admit that 80% of the time it was him crawling to you. He felt like he couldn't breathe if he was not on good terms with you. It would eat him out during his naturally sleepless nights until he went mad with the desire to fix it. Bless his soul he never knew how to.

He would often show up at your door, both words and actions failing him the second you let him into your room.

You understood though.

His intentions were always clear as day to you. You often said how you could easily figure out what he was thinking from his eyes alone.

“I'm fine, read your stupid romance junk” his response earned him a huff and a smile. Then there's silence.

Silence compels him to fill the space with words.

It would be much easier if you were to try and force him to talk, then he could quickly get you both on his familiar ground.

Fighting.

You know better by now.

“I'm sorry about this morning” he speaks up, looking back down at his paperwork.

He's met with silence again. He knows that it's not for your lack of forgiveness, you being here is obvious proof of that.

It's you, creating more space for him to talk.

You close your book, sitting up, patiently waiting.

Levi fell in love a year and a half ago.

Levi hugged you for the first time seven months ago.

Levi let you hold his hand for the first time four months ago.

Levi kissed you for the first time a month ago.

Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter.

Levi is still the only living person to know this.

_____________

The first kiss you shared was terrible. It was still the best thing Levi felt up until that point in his life.

You weren't stupid. He didn't need to tell you that he had no idea what he was doing, it was more than obvious with the way he moved against your mouth, equally clumsy and stiff at the same time. Judging by that, it was also not a secret that he never slept with anyone either.

Kissing you sends shivers down his spine and makes his fingers itch to touch you, mind going fuzzy whenever you deepen the kiss with gentle hands on his cheek or around his neck.

Everything was moving too fast. He dreaded the moment when he would have to confront this.

There were admittedly a few options.

Lie, be truthful, or simply… push you away and cherish what little he had with you in these few months, and then continue loving you from afar.

Levi did neither.

He felt terrible at this point. He was selfish, cruel, and fucking terrified. Because for some reason, when he has you within reach, he can’t stop himself from wanting you. His words contradict his actions, time and time again.

His hands are always eager to hold you, seek out and touch every part that they can grip onto. Especially when the kisses grow hotter, needier, and more bold.

His fingers slip under your shirt, at first only to feel the soft skin of your hips against his rough hands…and then they want more. Desperately.

So how can he explain himself?

After walking out on you for the nth time? Abruptly stopping you from reciprocating and bolting out of the room, leaving you all alone to figure out what you did wrong. Letting him do whatever he wanted also didn't work, because, at some point, he would stop on his own, hands snapping to his sides as if he got burned.

You took the rejections with grace, nodding and smiling at him. “Of course”, “That's alright”, “‘Vi, we don't have to, you know that right?”. You were getting exhausted though.

___________

So this time, when he pulled you into his lap, both of your lips swollen and red from kissing for so long, your hands gripped his the moment you felt them reach around your back and down your long skirt.

“I think that we need to stop doing this.”

Your words startled him, even if your voice was tiny, barely audible. He was stopped dead in his tracks, a gasp leaving his glossy lips as he heaved for air.

“We can just stick to holding hands or something, is that okay?”

He was speechless for a moment, yet your eyes were insisting on a reply, holding his gaze, your legs gripping him tighter to stop him from going away before giving any form of an answer. Frustration was evident on your face, and looking at you like that made him nauseous.

“Okay.” he had to will himself to talk, mumbling it out with great effort.

“Okay” you repeated, a little quieter, standing up on your feet, already on your way to the door.

“Will you come by for tea tonight?” your face softened at his panicked expression, and you knew the question was anything but a simple invitation.

Will you come back?

Is it too far gone?

Did he irredeemably fuck it up?

“Of course ‘Vi, I'll keep you company while you do your paperwork too”

_____________

“And for all the other times…” you nodded, making space on the couch. An invitation.

Levi took it, making his way to you before sitting down again. Usually, he wouldn't be so quick with it.

Today, he needed to ease the ache in his chest.

Fears of you not showing up tonight, the hard grip on his wrists that he can still feel if he thinks about it a little harder. The general tension was suffocating.

“I'm not trying to mess with you either.”

“I know.”

“I've never done it before”

“I know that too”

There's a pause, your hand slowly inching to his.

He selfishly takes it.

“I don't know what I want.”

“I don't really believe that, you always know.”

“You're right.”

You're chewing at your lip, still not looking at him. He might run off if you stare at him too much during a serious conversation.

He hates himself for teaching you that.

“I want to”

“Okay”

“I'm terrified of it”

You hum.

You knew about his mother.

“Not because of what my mother was, I think that's not the main problem anymore”

“Oh…” you nod again, squeezing his hand once in encouragement.

“I can't give you what you need”

“You don't need to give me anything.”

“I want to. I can't.”

He's sweating, his hand turning clammy and slippery in your own.

“You have everything I need though…I'm really trying to understand Lev-”

“I don't.”

“What do you mean…” you're searching through answers in your head.

“Does it not work anymore?” it would be offensive if anyone else said it, but the way you ask is timid, gentle, and already full of understanding.

He shakes his head no.

“Not that”

“Are you concerned about the…size?”

“No!” he doesn't even have one, why does the insinuation that it's small offend him for a moment, he isn't sure.

But.

“What if I was?”

It's close to it, isn't it?

“I mean usually guys think that they-”

“Unusable. What if it's unusable.”

“Can you… not feel good?” bless your heart for always thinking about him before everything.

“I can. What if it was unusable?” he repeats the question, gripping your hand tight in his, his other fisting the cushion of his couch.

“As long as you're willing to touch me in other ways? I already know that you're good with your hands, with practically anything you try. I doubt it would be much different? We could also practice.” your tone is serious, and now you're looking at him, curiously gauging his reaction. Did you say the right thing? He's gonna bolt away any second now.

Levi takes his time to think for a moment. Being delusional, that's what he's doing.

He hums.

“It's not that.”

“Okay” he can sense that you don't believe him now. That's alright. It doesn't change anything.

“You'll run away.”

“I promise I won't!”

“You will.”

“Will not!”

It's futile.

Levi sighs. His heart feels like it's gonna beat out of his chest. Late at night, he would imagine a similar scenario to this. Over and over again.

He would think of ways to drop the conversation. A billion excuses carefully thought through, memorized to perfection.

But it's vastly different in reality.

With you, now propped on your knees on his couch, a hand strongly pulling on his collar to make him look back at you. When did he look away? When did the adoration in your eyes become repulsive enough for him to not be able to bear looking at it? He didn't even notice.

He swallows, throat bobbing as spit and bile struggle to pass the gigantic lump.

His teeth are clenched as well, rubbing uncomfortably against one another. If he doesn't relax his jaw soon, he might even chip them away from how hard they are gritted together.

“Can you promise me something then?”

Selfish.

That's what he always is when it comes to you.

He knows that you would give him anything. Promise him everything if only he demands it.

So he takes it.

Greedily. Pathetically. Miserably.

“When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.” in your head this was too silly. Levi never seemed like he cared for what people talked about behind his back. No matter how awful a rumor would be, he would let people talk. His dick was also a topic of conversation in the scouts more than once. Soldiers need to pass the time somehow.

‘Must be small, he's so short, it would make sense!’

‘Maybe that's where all the height went!!’

If you do leave, he will deal with the heartbreak. What he can't deal with is his secret flowing around at the same time. He simply doesn't know how he would handle both. He actually doesn't know how he would handle the first one either, but he tells himself that he'll manage.

Threatening would also work on anyone but you. You can't threaten someone who doesn't feel a speck of fear towards you.

So he grips at the forced promise.

“Okay ‘Vi. I promise I won't tell a soul. It won't happen though!” your stubbornness parallels his sometimes, and now he relents, finally looking at you.

He pulls you into his lap, like how you were this morning. His hands are shaking, but you're smiling at him, one hand already on his cheek.

‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.

Levi's mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either he lets his regrets pull him down into pits of insanity, or he creates a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on his soul that much lighter.

Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.

He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.

He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut.

He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again..

As his mind is trying to catch up with everything, your shirt is already off.

He took it off your shoulders himself, hungry for the warm skin of your stomach, your back, and your chest.

He won't regret never having it under his fingertips again. He would regret never doing it when he had the chance.

Your voice is angelic as his lips trail across your shoulders and collar, leaving a sloppy mess in their wake. When your hands grip at the hem of his shirt, he wills his arms to keep still against your hip bones.

You won't notice anything ‘wrong’ there.

It still makes him anxious.

He's flatter than an average man, maybe because of genetics, maybe the piss-poor diet underground, or the lack of sun. Fuck if he knows.

What little could have been noticed would easily be attributed to his workout nowadays.

So he feels your hands on him for the first time.

It’s pleasant. Feeling you grip onto him wherever you can reach as he slips his tongue past your lips. Your cheeks are flushed and warm, eyes closed as you let him lead your kiss.

Despite the nervousness of the impending doom that he's been bracing himself for this whole time, he feels wetness between his legs, soaking through his boxers.

Your long skirt ends up being hiked up and you shyly guide his hands to your thighs.

He watches mesmerized as you find friction on top of his pants, his palms following the gentle sway of your hips.

Maybe if he could get you off like this, he could die a happy man. He'd engrave the image into his brain and replay it for decades probably.

You part for air, gasping and filling your lungs before you press your forehead to his, opening your pretty eyes to look at him again.

“I promised.”

“You did.”

You can feel the anticipation building in your tummy, warm and fuzzy as you readjust on his lap so that you're kneeling with one leg between both of his and the other at his side.

He gives a curt nod, and your fingers easily unbuckle his pants, unbuttoning them and then tugging the zipper down slowly.

He helps you take them to his ankles where he kicks them off the rest of the way.

Levi wants to crawl out of his own skin.

He will regret everything soon enough.

Your fingers slip past the waistband of his underwear, and you ignore the bruising grip on your shoulder. First, you're met with a tuff of thick hair, and then your fingers glide lower. Your lips are inches from his, and you refuse to look down, no matter how curious, you feel like not looking would make him feel a tiny bit more comfortable.

You pass over a tiny bump and Levi's breath hitches as you experimentally fiddle it between your middle and pointer fingers.

An inch or so lower, your digits slip between something warm and slick. Pressing with a little more force, your lips form into a little ‘oh’.

There are plenty of things you want to say, and then a few you want to ask out of pure curiosity. But you have to swallow it down, keep it for later, because Levi's glossy eyes pull at your heart with urgency, begging for a response.

“This is fine.”

“Is it?”

“Mhm.”

“You can leave.”

“I know”

“Are you going to?”

“Not planning to, no.”

Your hand doesn't stop moving, only slows down considerably as you wait for the barrage of questions and possible accusations.

“Is it not gross?”

Was he referring to a pussy in general?

“I've been with women before.”

“I'm not a woman though”

“I know that too.”

“You don't have to lie.”

“I'm not lying.”

“It's weird.”

“I don't think so. Just different.”

“Just different?”

“Yeah.”

He puts a little space between you two, releasing the death grip on your shoulder.

“Don't lie for my sake”

“I'm not lying” you don't mind repeating it.

“I'm serious. I will despise you if you're lying.”

“Good thing I'm not then.”

There's something in him that wants him to fight you more. He wants a different reaction. The one he practiced for, so that he could know what to do.

You keep your distance, but you place your hand closer to him, inches from his own, which is balled up in a tight fist with his nails leaving dull, moon-like crests in his palm.

Minutes drag out, feeling like hours.

When his breath comes out in a shudder, it's a sign that he let himself fall, trusting your words.

You grin when he looks your way again, and he takes your hand in his.

He's pulling you off the couch, stumbling across the room as he drags you behind him. At the door of his bedroom, you feel like you need to kiss him in order to breathe.

Your back ends up pressed to the wooden door then, strong arms picking you up.

Your legs find home around his hips, your arms secured tightly around his neck as he devours your mouth. He pulls your plump lips between his teeth, groaning lowly once your naked chest presses against his.

One of his hands snakes up your side and to the back of your neck, fingers lodging into your hair to keep your head from hitting against the door as you hungrily lick into his mouth.

You fumble for the handle, pushing the door open with your elbow. You feel hot all over, skin burning and shining in sweet sweat that Levi licks off your throat, baring his teeth to the junction of your neck and shoulders to stifle the moans that threaten to surge out when you rack your nails down his back.

He lowers you on the bed slowly, watching as you clumsily get your skirt and underwear off.

He towers over you within seconds, finding a place between your legs that spread out for him eagerly.

He's eating you with his eyes alone, and it sends goosebumps through your spine.

“You're…” his pale skin turns unrecognizably red, and you can see him struggling to come up with any more words.

“Just do whatever, I don't care ‘Vi, just touch me, c'mon…”

He nods, faltering for a moment before he smooths his finger across your heat experimentally. He massages the fat beside your folds with his thumb, the hairs there wet, sticking together due to your arousal.

Being touched by someone feels very much different than it does with your own fingers, you knew that already. But being slowly explored by someone who is desperately trying to learn everything about your body must take the cake.

Levi watches you, every breath you take, and every movement of your hips that buck off the bed. He takes in every gasp and moan rushing past your gorgeous lips as he presses and dips with his fingers.

He spreads your wetness around, coating your clit to make the flicks of his thumb against it smooth. He's not as helpless as he feared he would be, on the contrary, it turns out that it comes relatively easy to excel in something if you already know how to do it to yourself.

And as you mentioned earlier, he does have a way with his hands with everything he picks up. He feels a sense of pride when you start rutting against his hand, hungry for his touch while also being wildly unashamed to show it to him.

“Fuck me, ‘Vi, please for the love of God” you mewl as he takes your hood between two boney fingers, tugging and massaging there.

“Yeah…okay” his voice is raspy, sounding like a purr as he comes close to your face, propping himself on his elbow.

His fingers slowly dip inside you, and he's there to catch your moan as he sinks into you with ease, all the way to his knuckles.

“You're so gorgeous…” he whispers it like it's a secret. You know that saying things like that takes effort from him, not for the lack of meaning behind them.

You see the words at the tip of his tongue often, but hearing them out loud was a rarity.

“You're breathtaking” and now you're being truly spoiled, his fingers rocking into you…slow at first.

“It feels like I'd die without you.”

“Me too”

The confessions hang in the air, and they're deeper than ‘I love you’s’. They express the uncontainable need of two people, drunk on the feeling of each other to the point where they feel like their hearts would simply stop if something ripped them away.

“I'm close, it's embarrassing”

The tempo of his thrusts is now steady, and he watches as you snake your hand between your bodies, touching yourself to his pace.

He holds his breath, mesmerized by your movements. You're everything, and he can't keep his eyes off of you. Your cunt hugging his fingers, leaking into his open palm as you grind your hips to meet him, your fingers flicking at your gorgeous bud with urgency.

All the while, you scramble to moan his name, to beg him not to stop, to plea for him to fuck you just like this until you fucking pass out.

You cum with a loud cry, all over his hand, all over his perfectly made bed and clean sheets, and he already wants you to do it again and you haven't even stopped shaking from the first wave of your orgasm.

Your legs close around his arm, tightly locking him in place where he can only curl his fingers into your soft walls to help you ride out your high.

He stares with wide eyes as you slump back against the mattress, chest heaving, blissed out of your mind. And you don’t hate him. And you didn’t run. And he will never let you go now.

You release his hand soon enough, collecting yourself.

Feeling strength come back to your legs, you prop yourself up, pushing Levi under you with ease only explained by his utter willingness to let you take whatever you want from him.

Sweet surrender. Your hands are back on his skin, lips tickling their way between his chest and to his stomach, kissing your way above the hem of his underwear. He finds the part of his brain that yells at him to be careful, and he crushes it.

You strip him fully bare now, anticipation building up once again.

You want to eat him alive, hooking his leg over your shoulder and biting the inside of his thighs, soaking in his shivers and the frantic rush of his hand to cover his mouth.

Your eyes are purely dark, and you're still smiling at him. In a way that makes Levi’s heart race. Adrenaline courses through him, it feels similar to how it is when he's out on missions, focused, on edge and patiently waiting for the creatures to launch at him at any moment.

Is comparing you to a titan truly what his brain is doing right now?

No…not in that sense. He feels like he's being hunted, looked at like he's just a piece of meat hanging on a stick, being circled around for the sole amusement of the beasts.

You nibble at his skin again, jerking his attention down at you.

“This okay?”

Levi wants to crawl in a hole and die out of embarrassment, your face inches away from his pussy.

He hasn't been this turned on in his life.

“‘Vi?” you lean your cheek on his thigh, nuzzling against it.

“Yes.”

And then you're wrapping your arms around his muscley legs, flatting your tongue against him and swiping in one well swoop before he hears you humming approvingly.

“Must you be so shameless” You nose at his clit, ignoring his comment. He smells divine. The taste that lingers on your tongue compels you to dive in again for more.

At first, it doesn't feel like much, barely there friction that only tickled him ever so often. You take your time with him, peering up occasionally as you proudly swallow him down. Your chin and nose were a mess already.

Once you made sure that every part of him was licked clean, you finally closed your lips over his engorged clit. It laid heavy on your tongue, and as you sucked your cheeks in, Levi found your hands and pulled them over his stomach so that he could hold them to ground himself.

“Fuck…hng. Listen I-” You swirl him inside your mouth, pulling off with a pop so that you can tongue at his slit where fresh arousal seeps into your tastebuds. His eyes roll to the back of his skull and the vibrations of your humms drive him even more insane.

“My Walls, wait a second!” it feels amazing. He hates being greedy like this. He doesn’t want to ruin anything. But he needs to feel you.

He has no idea how. He needs more and closer.

How did he live without your touch before this?

“Come up.”

“Bossy…”

You listen, crawling up to him.

“Need more baby?”

“Shut up.”

“What is it then?”

You’re so mean. You should give mercy for his poor, old man's heart.

“Here…follow what I do.” Ordering him around is an ego boost. Finally, there’s something you’re better at than him(future will show that that won’t last long).

You push one of your legs under his, lifting your other one so that he can position himself. As he’s doing that, you take his other leg and you place it on your shoulder swiftly, hugging it to your chest before you let your full weight press against him.

“This better?” you rock your hips languidly, waiting for his reaction.

“Fuck, okay…yeah…it's. Yeah.” He props himself up on his elbows, angling himself a little better.

You watch mesmerized between your bodies, the slow glides of your drooling folds, the shy bumps of your clits against one another.

It takes a while for the friction to build up, a few minutes until your movements sync up, the up and down motion of your hips timing perfectly with each other.

Levi’s hair is damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, eyelashes fluttering while he struggles to keep his eyes open. He wants to learn, wants to lead the pace next time, make you feel good and spoil you. He needs to remember every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what drives you insane.

He balances on one arm, his other supporting the fluent rolls of your hips with firm pressure on your thigh.

The dim lighting accentuates his build. The pale, jagged scars scattered across his body make him all the more beautiful to look at. They show his strength, endurance, and ferocity…and this same body that has been fighting to survive for most of its life is writhing under you, trusting you to handle it with care.

The hand he holds you with has many small cuts, they're impossible to count, whereas the pads of his fingers are rough, toughened up from holding the blades so often.

When you pay closer attention to his legs, there are strips of skin where hair doesn't grow anymore. You recognize the placement of the gear straps easily. Many soldiers share the same markings, but his are especially attractive.

Is that even a thing that can be considered particularly attractive? Lack of hair in weird places?

Doesn't really matter because apparently, if it’s on Levi, it's sinfully hot.

You shift your attention back to his face. His eyes are dimmed and dark, the blueish hue barely there. His mouth is slacked open, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

You can feel hot blood rushing through your body, tips of your fingers tingly. You hold your breath and you flex the muscles of your stomach, the coil in your gut threatening to snap oh so so soon.

“A little more, please… fuck I'm right there ‘Vi. You with me?”

“Hmhm…yeah. I think so. yeah? Shit.”

He overthinks it for a second.

Will he look weird? Will his face be pleasant to look at? Nobody ever saw him like this, he doubts anyone else ever will. If he could stuff a pillow into his face he would.

“ ‘Vi, gonna make me cum again, holy shit.”

Oh.

That's what matters the most.

You feeling good. Because of him. With him?

“I've got you, yeah, c’mon, cum for me gorgeous…” he blushes at his own words, heisting the pace to help you both get there.

Soon everything goes still, gasps and grunts bouncing off the walls as you both release, one following after the other. Before you squeeze your eyes shut, you latch onto the image of him, captivated and awestruck by his expression.

Your second orgasm is mindnumbing, leaving your brain a mush.

You clutch at his leg and he squeezes yours as you both slow down to a stop. The sheets beneath you are soaked through, slightly uncomfortable as you both scramble and stretch your sore limbs.

You lay onto Levi's chest and he wraps you in his arms, tucking his chin at the top of your head. His heartbeat slowly becomes regular, and your breath evens out.

He feels like he needs to say something. Is he supposed to say anything after?

He decides that he won't ruin the silence, no matter how badly he wants to sabotage the tender moment.

You stroke his side with your thumb, going in tiny circles, and he replies by lightly scratching your back, falling into a steady rhythm.

Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter.

One more person knows and the world didn't end.

Levi sleeps through the whole night and in the morning, he doesn't run.

Phew, I wrote this in one sitting and even now I have 20 more ideas for this plot. Old man pussy is a prison.

I would just like to clarify that reader isn't 'oblivious' to the existence of trans people by choice. It was mainly because I tried to keep to the canon timeframe, and in like 800's I don't know if such a thing would exist in the first place? It's definitely a very peculiar and specific situation that I had in mind aswell.

All in all, thank you for making it this far! Mwah💕

tip-yar : Ko-Fi 💕

commission info

#aot #aot x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #snk #snk levi #levi x reader smut #aot commissions #aot smut #levi ackerman x reader smut

149 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago

Text

thomas wayne au excerpts - things that could've been part of a grander fic except there's no grander fic

thomas wayne au - an au i made last year where danny is literally just. thomas wayne. his full name was Daniel Thomas Fenton and he started going by Thomas Nightingale after he was disowned. because of course. here is a link to the first post if anyone wants to see a more in depth view of the au (its also the start of me using the ‘danny fenton is not the ghost king’ au lmao

additional info: bruce is the result of a failed cloning attempt from vlad - vlad used a combination of danny's dna and an unnamed girl (Martha's) to make him to try and balance out the ectoplasm use. this resulted in a slightly liminal but otherwise completely human and stable baby boy. Bruce is, by all accounts, Danny's biological son. Danny named him Bruce

Danny was 24 when he died, he took in Bruce when he was 16. He is, so far, a single father in this au. (But if I WERE to add martha she wouldn't be sam or a DP character but rather a separate character on her own.)

Essentially they would go as:

Martha, 19: water does terrifying things to corpses

Danny, 19, half ghost: *heart eyes* really? tell me more they're morticia and gomez your honor

---- Like starlight -----

Bruce's father could light up a room. He was like a sun, his gravitational field could just pull you in, and before you knew it you'd be orbiting around him like one of his many planets.

He's seen it in action before, in the rare moments Thomas Wayne would allow him to accompany him to the socialite events he went to; the fundraisers; the charities. Bruce, as tall as his father's waist, would cling to his leg and watch as people drifted towards him and his star-blinding smile.

It's fitting that his father's favorite thing in the world were stars, he fit right in with them.

As an adult, Bruce has tried copious amount of times to mimic him. To try and capture a fraction of that light, that charm, in his own act - but here's the thing. Thomas Wayne wasn't made of starlight only in front of the cameras, he was made of starlight outside of it as well.

(So when older socialites laugh and tell him he's so much like his father, Bruce just thinks they are liars. They've only ever seen the Thomas Wayne his father showed them, Bruce is nothing like his father.)

In the manor, whatever room he stepped into seemed to brighten, and maybe it was just Bruce's own child-memory fuzzing it to raise his father onto a pedestal, but he stands by it. His father was a solar system, his very own galaxy. Bruce was just the lucky planet that was close enough to orbit him.

--------- arrival time ------

Ancients, ancients, what the fuck convinced Danny to ever go to Gotham of all places? Crime Capitol of the world? He's not sure, but he's been wandering around the country for the last few months, swapping between flying late at night as Phantom, and taking the busses and trains when he had the money, and was too exhausted to fly.

And of course, what convinced him to come here with his kid no less, who was just at the cusp of turning a year old? Whose curiosity of the world was growing greater by the day? Who wanted to look around and explore, and was growing tired of being held at all hours of the day by his father.

But he was going to be held, at least for as long as they were in Gotham for. He didn't trust the stuff on the sidewalks, and he didn't trust the people walking on it. Bruce was tiny, and Danny would lose his mind if he lost him in a crowd.

In his arms, Bruce whined and wriggled, pushing at his shoulders in the signature way he did when he wanted to be let down. Danny tightened his hold, and adjusted his place on his hip.

"I know, bumblebee." Danny muttered, resting his chin on Bruce's small head. His hair was still thin, but it was dark and soft, and tickled his throat a little. "But not yet, I need to find somewhere for us to stay first."

He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, permanently. He couldn't keep living like this, and he couldn't let Bruce grow up like this either. Constantly moving, homeless, unsure of when he was going to eat next? It wasn't good for him. But he needed to find a city he liked, and after that? He wasn't sure. Where did he start?

But Bruce doesn't like his answer, he whines at him, louder, and his wriggling increases. He wants down, he wants to move. They were in a new place again, he wanted to explore. He's too little to fully understand what his dad's saying. "Dada." He said, his voice thick with the accent of a child first learning to speak.

"I know," Danny repeats, stressing the word as his eyes flitted about. There was a park nearby -- maybe he and Bruce could stop there for a bit. Bruce could move around, and Danny could figure out his next move.

It was getting dark, he didn't want to be out in Gotham when it was dark. Shuffling, he moved the inside of his jacket to wrap around Bruce better. It was getting cold, too. Last winter with Bruce had been hellish - Bruce's liminality meant that Danny's immunity to the cold hadn't been passed down to him. Danny had spent all winter terrified that Bruce was going to get sick and die. He didn't want to go through that stress again, especially now that Bruce would be moving.

He hoped they could find new living arrangements soon.

---- dniwer eht klolc - clockwork's conversation ---

Laughing quietly as Bruce ran out of the room, Danny turned his attention back to the mirror, his fingers curled around the knot of his tie. They'd been planning this outing for weeks since the movie was first announced, and Danny wasn't going to let anything ruin tonight.

Humming under his breath, his hands fell from his tie and he steps back. They were leaving in half an hour, at best, but experience from the last six years has taught Danny that he wants to be ready before then.

In his reflection, the clock behind him stops ticking, and a wave of nothing washes over him, a subtle shift he's gotten used to that was the sensation of time stopping. Ticking, soft and coming from all four sides of the room, filled his ears.

Danny's smile drops. And behind him, Clockwork swirled into existence like a blackhole reversing its pull. "Don't go out tonight, Thomas." He says, his voice stern.

That wasn't happening.

He reaches up to push back a loose strand of hair out of his face. "Does something happen to Bruce, Clockwork?" He asks, his voice deceptively calm. That would be the only reason he would postpone tonight. If it endangered Bruce, then he would just have to break the news to him that they'd have to go tomorrow.

In the reflection, Clockwork's lips thinned, pressing together tersely. He looked tense, the grip on his staff was tight, tighter than Danny's seen it before in recent years. And it worried him a little.

Clockwork is silent for a few seconds, hesitant, before he finally speaks. "No, Bruce will be fine." He says, and uncharacteristic of him, he shuffles, "But--"

Ah, good then. Danny's smile returns briefly across his face. Then it could be something Danny can handle. "But nothing then, Clockwork." He says, interrupting the Ancient firmly. He leans back slightly to look over himself again in the mirror, before going to undo his tie. He's changed his mind about it.

"Boo has been looking forward to our movie all week, I'm not crushing his hopes by changing my mind last minute." In just a few seconds the tie was off his neck and tossed onto bed behind him. And Danny was reaching over the dresser beside him to grab a pearl necklace, he normally didn't wear it, it belonged to Mrs. Wayne and he inherited it after she and Mr. Wayne passed away last year. It wouldn't hurt to wear it for a special occasion like this.

Clockwork's lips tightened, and his shoulders tensed up. "Thomas," He says lowly, "Please."

...Clockwork never said please. Danny's never heard him say please in the last ten years he's known him. This... must have been pretty serious -- but, his core tugged at him. He couldn't cancel without finding the reason why. Bruce was so important to him, Danny couldn't break his heart with this without learning why. He wouldn't allow it, and neither would his core.

He hooks the necklace around his neck and turns to face Clockwork, frowning deeply. "Does something happen tonight?" If he knew the reason -- he just needed to know the reason.

Clockwork stares at him, and something that Danny can't catch appears across his face. "...I cannot tell you." He says after a long moment, his voice quiet.

That... is not the answer Danny wants. He won't cancel.

He frowns. "If something happens tonight..." He says slowly -- Clockwork said that Bruce is unharmed. That must mean Danny was able to handle it. He allows himself to smile reassuringly, and he steps forward to clap a hand on Clockwork's shoulder. "Then I will handle it, alright? I promise."

He gets no response back. Clockwork's expression unreadable as he nods silently - Danny's anxiety curls in his gut. He's being so unlike himself. But he shakes Clockwork's shoulder gently and steps around him, leaving the room.

After a minute, he feels time return to normal.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dp crossover #dpdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dc x dp #dp dc #dp dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #danny is thomas wayne au #danny calling bruce 'bumblebee' >>>>>#he adores his kid man. absolutely loves him. he'd give him the world on a silver platter if he even so much asked.#dont have many tag thoughts for this au unfortunately. its pr straight forward considering danny is going to die when bruce is eight #left the movie they went to see pr ambiguous since mark of zorro came out in 1940 #only thought of it now that danny wore the pearls as i was writing this. just for the extra reference to canon #single dad danny #martha and danny would fall in love with each other via hyperfixations. they'd be engaged by the time they died.#their wedding would be in a month - little bruce was gonna be ringbearer at his dad's wedding :) and he'd already be calling Martha mom #danny: CW said bruce was unharmed tonight so everything will be fine :) i will handle it.#danny: dies and becomes a whalefall - and thus incapable of returning as a ghost to watch over bruce #yeah clockwork meant physically unharmed. he was in pain while talking to danny - his boy was gonna die tonight and he was never gonna see #him again bc danny wasnt coming back as a ghost.

271 notes · View notes

illya-roma · 2 years ago

Text

DP X DC PROMPT- (Fic that I'd totally probably might write)

Jason had learned from being a Robin to being Red Hood to expect a lot of things, from fighting the deranged to expecting the unexpected like daina (WONDER WOMAN!) being mind controlled.

But he never expected this.

He usually doesn't come here to begin, not after- after it happened, but he does each time whenever the pits wants to remind hims of what he could have lost. (What he lost, how it hurt hurt hurt. How HE hurt them. He knows that even if they forgive him, they'll never trust him again. The pit laughs from behind)

But tonight, in front of him sat someone?something? what appears to be a teenager from 14 to 16, with red hair that flickers similar to a flame and skin too pale and ears too pointy.

But it?she? sat on one of the headstone with her eyes glazed, too deep in her own thoughts.

A series of bubbles cut her off. She proceeded to put the baby (that seemed completely human) on her shoulder and allowed him to burb. Then cocooned him in blankets and hummed him to sleep.

Right now, he isn't red hood (or Robin). And his gun may not affect her, that is if the child belongs to someone else. (Did the parents give them to her? Or is she related? Have any alarms of a breakout occur that a meta? experiments? escape?).

(He sounds like Bruce.)

"A penny for your thoughts?"

The girl had her eyes on the child, with a small sad smile and flickers of flaming hair. "Just..."

"Just wondering what my grave would have looked like."

He sucked a breath.

"That ones yours...right?"

The girl (child ghost holy fuck!) nodded her head to his own grave. "Y-yeah...it's mine."

"It's beautiful... And well cleaned...They must've cared a lot, mister Jason."

He never thought about that. A well taken grave describes a caring family wouldn't it? (They do care! How is it still clean though?)

"Yeah...but uh...um...What's up with the..the baby?" Is the baby alive?

"Oh...Noone will take care of my baby boy... So.. I had to come back..."

She pushed back a few strands of black hair with tender eyes and the lightest touch. As if he where the most fragile crystle.

Jason could see himself in the child. All loved to the point his own mother would give up everything just for him. Except it was Bruce, it was Bruce that took him in and loved him. Standing beside his bed during nightmares when he cried and taking away the monsters. Sitting with Alfred, cooking together and exchanging stories.

(His family loved him. His family loves him.)

"Would you like to fly with me?"

Robin made me magic

He keeps wiping his face while she put the baby in a safer position. "We can have a brawl for fun after I put little Danny in his bed a-" she stopped mid scentence when looking at him

He sputtered. " Is something wrong?"

With fear in her eyes she floated, creating distance between both of them. She shaked her head in disbelief.

"You...you died..."

He took a step farther, not wanting to scare them away.

"But..b-but your... nononono why do you look like that?!"

He wanted to ask like what, but she disappeared before his eyes. (Did she know he wasn't safe? That he hurt his family?)

...

Beep

"Hey Jaylad, is the pit be-

"B-Bruce"

"Jason, what's wrong? Are yo- what happend?"

"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, I'm sorry! Dad I'm sor-"

"I'm coming, hang in there."

"Little Wing what's wrong?"

"Todd, who hurt you? Who should I kill?"

"Jason, back ups close. Breath with me, alright!"

(His family loves him)

(The pits were silenced)

_______________________________________

In an alternative universe the Fenton are still driving around and setting up traps, unfortunately Jazz is the one who removes them and got caught.

Since jazz is the one that doesn't wear hazmats and dany is still a baby (she makes sure is far from their experiments with ectoplasm), she becomes a ghost who decides that she doesn't want Danny to get hurt and takes him somewhere near a lot of ectoplasm.

Gotham: sweet baby girl, little baby harley.

Let the drama begin.

Chapter 2

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dp crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp au #jazz was a child but sees herself as a teenager #not and adult like the not dependaple adults around her #and not a child tgat she needs help for #but is still a psychiatrist girl #angst #fluff #?#dp au #dp x dc au

658 notes · View notes

rose-tea-and-strawberries · 2 years ago

Text

#JusticeForYuu

Warning: long rant coming up. Mentions of PTSD and Trauma.

So I recently read this manhwa called ‘Ashtarte’ and let me tell you, compared to other manhwas that I’ve read, I’ve never felt more vindicated or satisfied by the way it handles trauma and forgiveness.

Basically, the main character is a young princess, about ten or eleven or twelve I can’t remember, who has spent her entire life being treated like nothing by her entire family for no pretty much no reason at all. Trust me when I say that the neglect and emotional abuse she undergoes is awful and after a while, she realises that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. She mentally and emotionally emancipates herself from them and makes a family with her small handful of servants that live with her in her broken down house (let me tell you, they all love and protect her so much. Her mother figure/ best friend/ maid is the absolute GOAT), telling them that she won’t waste any tears on her bio family anymore. And when her bio family beg for forgiveness after she makes a very obvious effort to ignore and stay as far away from them as possible, she tells them that if they want her to even consider forgiving them for all the pain they put her through, they need to wait 10 years just like how she spent ten years all alone, trapped in that house, waiting for someone to love her. Even after the 5 year timeskip, she still doesn’t give them the time of day whilst they send her letters and mountains of gifts (that she never opens) and when she meets them again because of some obligatory family thing, she tells them point blank that there’s a chance that she’ll never forgive them and there’s nothing that she wants from them so just leave her alone and just walks out as they all suffer in their guilt.

And, let me tell you, as someone who has read a lot of female lead manhwas, I’ve never seen a FL not forgive a neglectful family - either they end up forgiven after an apology that lasts for like one chapter, or the MC gets her revenge and completely ruins them, or it’s an isekai story so now that a new person is possessing the main character, they finally decide to show interest and since the new character is either scared of them, is trying to gain their favour or has never undergone their horrible treatment of the host body, they just get off scot-free (A Match Made In Mana is a good example of this. Like the romance. Hate the fact that the older brother only started treating her right when another person isekaied into the main character - same thing with There Is No Place For Fakes)

Now what has this got to do with anime Disney boys you ask. Let me get to that.

Now I’m the kind of person that can hold a grudge - not that much in real life but very much so when it comes to fictional characters. If I was Jo March, I wouldn’t even be in the same room as Amy March after she burned the manuscript for at least a year. There are some characters that I just can’t stand because they never get the full consequences for what they put others through and I hate that so much (I’m not going to name names because a lot of them are fandom favourites and I don’t want to start a war).

What I’m trying to say is that why can’t there be a Yuu that doesn’t forgive the overblot gang/dorms for what they put them through? Because you have to admit that they way that they treated this homeless, magicless human with absolutely nothing to their name and that is, in every instance, at the bottom of the food chain was awful. And I’m not talking about the overblots - they were clearly in the midst of a mental breakdown and weren’t in the right state of mind. But how would you explain everything that they did pre-overblot? When they are fully conscious of everything they did. Riddle even admitted after his overblot that he knew that he was being harsh but he still did that stuff anyway.

I know that we have to forgive everyone for the sake of the plot since we need Riddle in Book 2, Leona in Book 3, Azul in Book 4 and so on and so forth but when I remember the torment that Yuu faces, I just want to tell them all to take a hike.

I know that these boys had horrible lives. I know that these are deeply traumatised individuals and that them overblotting was the only way for them to heal. But guess what? Going through trauma doesn’t excuse giving trauma to someone else? As Jake Peralta once said:

Confession Time - I was the anon that sent this: https://www.tumblr.com/shiny-jr/716948600309137408/hi-i-just-want-to-say-that-ive-read-all-of-your?source=share

And I still stand by what I said.

I just find it really annoying that when I search for angst fics it’s always the boys’ trauma or unrequited love or death or break ups - or maybe even something mentioning an overblot but I’ve never once found anything about the boys asking for forgiveness for what they did to Yuu prior to the overblots because once, just once, I want to read someone asking Yuu to forgive them and for Yuu to be selfish just once and say ‘no’

I know that I portray my fem!Yuu as this person that’s so sweet and forgiving and kind and soft and gentle but that’s because I’m obsessed with the dynamic of this sweet sunshine bubbly girl being a breath of fresh air to these villainous boys (and also because I kind of took some inspiration from my favourite princess, Snow White, and I based her a bit on Wendy Darling because I wanted her to be that ‘mature young girl’ who is very motherly but is still very much a fun-loving, imaginative child) but I just want a Yuu that is given the respect that they deserve.

I want a Yuu that actually experiences PTSD because of the treatment that they’ve undergone. I want them to hate the fact that their experience in NRC has changed them. I want them to hate that they’ve developed claustrophobia and a fear of the dark after they were forcefully imprisoned in Scarabia, I want them to hate how anything can trigger a PTSD-induced flashback, I want them to hate how Riddle’s jabs at their character and parentage still ring in their head after all this time, I want them to hate how whenever they’re submerged in water, all they can remember is what Azul, Jade and Floyd put them through in their attempts to get their home and family back. I want them to hate how often they get nightmares, how any second could be the day they finally get killed by any of these magic users who are far more powerful than them. I want them to look in the mirror and despise every single scar that litters their once unblemished body. I want them to hate how they had to ask the people who stripped them of their home and the only family they had in NRC for help in Book 4 because now they are indebted to them and they have no idea when Azul would want to cash that.

I’ve seen fics that have Yuu go through heatstroke during the marches in Scarabia and, as someone that not only has had heatstroke before but also had a really scary fainting experience I headcanon that as well so how about a Yuu that turns down Kalim’s invitations because the sight of Scarabia reminds them of the hostility that they faced when they were the most vulnerable. How about a Yuu that tries not to hate Kalim because he’s a genuinely nice person and was the only one to welcome them with kindness but can’t help but feel bitter whenever they hear the housewarden excuse Jamil’s behaviour when they still remember how they were locked up against their will.

This fic by linawritestwst and this fic by the-hearteater portray what I’m talking about really well. (taxonomize our differences by Jemimimi does a really good job of illustrating how being in Twised Wonderland affects Yuu’s mental health - there’s an incredible scene where Yuu has a panic attack and teaches Grim how to help them out of it. I nearly cried because their sense of self worth is so low and suicidal tendencies are so unstable that in multiple points of the story they try to get other students to kill them and Yuu my baby 😭)

When I go through the Rollo x reader fics, the majority of them are either yandere or the usual fluff. But Rollo can actually be a good friend for Yuu to have. Whilst their mentalities are different, they both agree that magic is dangerous - with Yuu being a victim of said magic. I honestly think that, if he wasn’t written as the big bad of the event, he could’ve been a really good ally that would understand Yuu’s pain of not only facing overblot after overblot but their helplessness of being surrounded by magical individuals and not knowing whether they’ll be able to survive another day.

Everyone’s always like #Crowley Slander (which he rightfully deserves, I am thisclose to punting him) but don’t forget everything the boys did. I see fics where they stand up to Crowley for Yuu but the most they do is reference the overblots but never that they did horrible things as well. Crowley may have told Yuu to stay behind during the winter holidays but Jamil was the one who imprisoned us and prevented us from contacting our friends for help. Crowley may have made Yuu stay at Ramshackle (although to be fair Ramshackle is kind of the safest option - who knows what would happen to Yuu if their magical self was in an actual dorm, especially all of the female Yuus. I think living in isolation is kind of the best option for them when the universe is out to get them. Plus, the ghosts are amazing company.) but Azul was the one who made us homeless and had a shady business (that he still has even after the overblot). Crowley may have been blackmailing Yuu with food, shelter and money but Leona was the one that was sabotaging the students and Vil was the one that tried to point blank kill an innocent child in cold blood after making his childhood trauma and personal one-sided rivalry everyone’s problem for the weeks leading up to the VDC.

Everyone only treated them with respect after the overblot incidents - so they literally had to put themselves in danger and nearly die for them to be treated as not a nobody. When Riddle made those completely uncalled for jabs at Yuu, an innocent bystander, nobody said or did anything. Not Trey, who enabled Riddle’s reign of terror and quietly observed the suffering all of the Heartslabyul students (and then had the gall to tell adeuceyuu not to get angry at Riddle because of course tragic backstory = forgiveness), not Cater, who canonically has a hidden side so Yuu has more of a reason not to trust him, not any of the other card soldiers - no Ace, the one everyone writes off as a stupid tactless jerk that does badly in school and only causes trouble, was the only one that had the emotional intelligence to realise that Yuu’s feelings were hurt and was the only one who cared to do something about it via sucker punching the tantrum-throwing tyrant.

(I can’t remember if Deuce did anything but he already stood up for us during the egg debacle so it’s okay he’s still my number one love)

(Also: Riddle is known to be incredibly strict with his dorm. It’s been said that Heartslabyul has the best academic record because of Riddle’s incredibly high standards. He also doesn’t take excuses from anyone even if they aren’t even in the wrong - which is seen when he exiles adeuceyuu from the dorm during the Mont Blanc Tart Incident where Trey tells Riddle that he was the one who told them to make the tart for the party and Riddle says that it was still their fault for not knowing the rules beforehand because of course a first year would have memorised all 810 rules by their like third day and it would be perfectly normal of them to ask a senior for advice on what to do. My question is: how many dyslexic students or anyone else with learning disabilities do you think Riddle has sent crying? How many students with less than stellar family backgrounds joined NRC only to find that they were sorted into a dorm that had a leader who not only holds their abusive mother’s teaching methods on a pedestal but is more than ready to hurl insults at anyone that disagrees with him? How many times had Trey seen an innocent student receive unfair treatment and kept quiet about it despite it being his job as a vice dorm leader and upperclassman to look after them?)

I know that so many people want Yuu to overblot or go through their villain arc so that the boys can be put in that place but why do we even have to go that far? If Yuu did have magic they would have overblotted ages ago but even so why do they need to have a mental breakdown so that others could see where they went wrong? Remember an overblot can kill its host and Yuu doesn’t need another near death experience.

I want Yuu to be like Ashtarte and just have a small circle of friends and family in Ace, Deuce, Grim and the Ramshackle ghosts and tell everyone else to bog off. I want Ace, Deuce and Grim to be like the maid, Leona/Loena - different translations have different spellings (she is such a protective mama bear I love her so much. She literally calls out royalty to their faces, is ready to throw hands with the entire world and is willing to risk her own life for Ashtarte’s happiness) and act as Yuu’s guard dogs to prevent anyone from coming near them. Ace, Deuce and Grim have been there since the beginning, they’re Yuu’s ride or die besties that know what they’re going through, they’re platonic soulmates who can clearly see the emotional turmoil on weighing down on them. I want them to witness how Yuu is affected by their PTSD with their panic attacks and nightmares and bouts of depression and dissociation and then doing their best to learn how to help them. I want Yuu to refuse to step foot in another dorm and just go to NRC for classes and then disappear into Ramshackle. I want Ace and Deuce to run interference in case anyone approaches their friend because can’t you see that they don’t want to talk to you, who’s not afraid to stand up to anyone be it teachers or upperclassmen because haven’t they done enough damage.

Yes, Ace is a jerk but he’s not a mean bully of a jerk. He’s just a stupid tactless teenage boy who just needs to be humbled once or twice - he’s completely harmless unlike Sebek and his humanphobic bigoted butt who should definitely keep his comments to himself because Yuu already has enough troubles without someone reminding them of how inferior their species is.

I want these boys to feel guilt - not because of their overblots but because they were actually horrible people before they tried to kill a defenseless, magicless human. I want Yuu to not only lose trust in the main characters but also with everyone else because they never know who would hurt or betray them next - who would be like Trey or Rook and enable bad behaviour, or who would be like Azul and take advantage of their weaknesses, or who would be like Jamil and pretend to be their friend and then stab them in the back. I want a Yuu that’s tired of being manipulated and used by everyone and is just done with everything.

As much as I love parental!Staff, you have to admit that canonically, they’ve done a pretty bad job of looking after Yuu so how about a Yuu that doesn’t trust adults because they’ve shown no interest in actually being someone that Yuu can open up to. Also, Azul was able to get away with everything he did was because he had Crowley in his pocket - who’s to say that he doesn’t have other adults under his thumb as well? (We know he doesn’t but how can Yuu be sure)

I want Yuu to be friends with Neige because he seems like such a sweetheart and I really don’t like how I see fics putting him down just to make Vil look good. As I mentioned above, Snow White is my favourite Disney Princess and sharing a spot with Pooh Bear as my favourite Disney character so a darling boy that is inspired by her would be an awesome friend to have - and he has never caused Yuu physical, verbal, emotional or mental harm.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that this is making me come off as a hater but I just want some justice for Yuu. They deserve absolutely nothing that they go through and I want happiness for them.

Also, on a completely unrelated note, I may have been listening to Numb Little Bug a tad bit too much.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

534 notes · View notes

wren-kitchens · 5 days ago

Text

i guess i’m human no more

4732 words

joel is extremely used to the vast amount of feathers he finds in their bed (and his mouth) every morning—going so far as to know which yellow feather is from jimmy's wings or grian's (jimmy's have more brown hues in). joel essentially knows their wings off by heart, and has been teased endlessly after that one time he accidentally revealed this fact to grian. despite all this, there's- there is a bit of a situation. it's- there's a new colour feather.

good LORD this has taken me a while to finish. judas had the incredible idea of watchers/listeners being contagious to people they're emotionally close to in MAY and here I am in december only just finishing the oneshot for it

I did in fact go wild with this one. there are many headcanons and so much bad boys because I love them

CW: body horror, gore

there are too many feathers in their bed.

this is extremely ordinary—in fact, joel would be concerned if there were a normal amount of feathers in their bed, because it would mean that jimmy and grian had just been laying completely still. after sleeping in the same bed as them for a week or so, joel has learnt that this seems to be physically impossible for either of them to do. every single morning, joel has woken up with jimmy and grian sprawled in increasingly unlikely positions on top of him and each other (which is kind of sweet), and at least three feathers in his mouth (which is kind of gross).

that's not even to mention how many feathers they shed when they stretch their wings out. honestly, joel wonders if he should just attach a bin bag to their wings and see just how many feathers they can amass in a single day; it'd be an interesting experiment. although, the most they shed is when they're preening, which- okay, he can no longer get annoyed with them when they leave the piles of fluff on the floor—not since they let him help. now he knows how loopy they get, joel understands why they'd forget to tidy up.

(joel wouldn’t admit this at gunpoint, but he's never felt so.. okay- it's- it will sound silly, but so trusted, than when jimmy suggested joel help, and grian agreed. there are very few things so intimate than preening, as joel has learnt, and the idea that they would ask him for help with something that personal makes his head spin.)

all of this to say, joel is extremely used to the vast amount of feathers he finds in their bed (and his mouth) every morning—going so far as to know which yellow feather is from jimmy's wings or grian's (jimmy's have more brown hues in). joel essentially knows their wings off by heart, and has been teased endlessly after that one time he accidentally revealed this fact to grian.

despite all this, there's- there is a bit of a situation. it's- there's a new colour feather.

it doesn’t sound that weird, but- no one else on the server has wings with the pattern on the feathers joel has started finding, so there's no way it just rubbed off someone else and fell off here. it's a kind of orangey-beige, with dark brown marking; something joel knows is not a pattern on anyone else's wings on this server. it could be a weird glitch, if grian or jimmy have different markings on another server, and at some point their wings lagged or something. yeah, that makes sense.

so much sense, in fact, that joel didn't bother telling grian or jimmy about it—which apparently was about to bite him in the ass.

if joel has to spend one more second trying to be diplomatic with scott, whilst being shot looks that very plainly tell him to chill out, he's going to stab someone. especially as martyn and grian are clearly arguing about something or other in the most roundabout way possible, and jimmy keeps backing grian up. joel has no idea what either of them are actually arguing about, and apparently neither does scott, which is only some consolation. also- not necessarily related to this situation, but joel must have slept funny or something, because his back has been aching all day, which is not adding very much to this experience.

"look- I don’t want you to be my ally any more than you want to be mine," joel says, thoroughly exasperated. "but you and your allies seem to be fundamentally immortal in these games."

scott raises an amused eyebrow, clearly entertained by joel's attempts at formality. dickhead. "so, you’re trying to profit off my skill?"

joel scoffs, stretching his neck in the hopes of lessening some of the pain in his back. "you say that like it's a bad thing. you know, I-"

"no- you’re being ridiculous!" martyn interrupts, half shouting and apparently unaware of the commotion he’s causing. "it's downright irresponsible-"

"and what do you think you’re doing?" grian's wings have puffed up in anger. "you realise that out of everyone you could turn-"

"which is exactly why i’m not going to." martyn insists. joel has no idea what either of them are talking about, but it's better than arguing with scott.

jimmy barks a laugh. "there are more than one reasons you’re wrong there-"

"you can’t talk!" martyn jabs a finger at him. "how would you know-"

"how would I know?" jimmy says, voice slipping from indignation to anger. "how would- do you remember, martyn, who turned me?"

joel's back gives a sharp stab of pain, and he winces at it. maybe he pulled a muscle or something when he was swimming up the side of the mansion with building materials.

scott looks at him. "what are you doing?"

"you- what?" joel glares back instinctively, which scott apparently finds funny. "i’m not doing anything?"

"if you say so." scott turns back to the argument.

joel scoffs, folding his arms- and instantly regrets it as a spasm shoots up his back. void- what did he do to himself? it seems like it's getting worse as the day goes on, which does not happen with muscle strains- as far as he remembers, anyway. scott glances at him again, and joel pretends he hasn't noticed.

" -hen you should know better." martyn's voice is cold, but there's something like regret lacing his tone. joel feels like he’s missed at least five chapters- what are they on about? "you know the risks-"

"you know the risks firsthand, martyn." grian steps forward. "and do you truly think They will take kindly-"

"of course They won't, but it's not going to happen." martyn hisses.

whatever joel has managed to do to himself seems to be worsening by the second- demonstrated by the pounding behind his eyes that seems to have materialised out of nowhere. cool- great, this is exactly what he needs right now: more pain. he closes his eyes for a moment, in the hope that the lack of light might alleviate the throbbing pain. it does not help at all—in fact, it just makes him feel a little unstable, since he can no longer see where he’s stood.

he's- wait, what- did joel open his eyes and not notice? that- no, that's definitely- what the fuck? is the game glitching, or is-

"joel?" scott's voice is uncomfortably close to his ear, and joel's eyes snap open (how the fuck could he still see). "are- what-" (why does scott look scared.)

"you- that's not normal." joel's voice sounds so far away from his body. does he have double vision?

pearl looks over at bigb from where she's been laying upside-down against the wall. she says something that looks like, "I have an idea." but no sound comes out.

maybe he just needs to lie down- it's probably fine. it's just- he has some kind of fever- he just needs to have a nap.

grian is too busy trying to stop both himself and jimmy from attacking martyn to notice that anything is wrong.

someone grabs his arm-

joel lists sideways, and scott manages to catch him on instinct before he completely topples over. his eyes- they've definitely not always been purple.

grian looks over, panic rising in his chest like bile as he realises the worst has happened-

"can- is there-" joel's breath is coming far too quickly- is he even breathing anymore? "I don't-"

someone is grabbing his shoulders, and there are too many faces to even- decipher who it is. he might be on the floor- there's something that could be grass under his hands, and someone is talking- who is talking? joel doesn’t want- he doesn’t like any of this. can he go home?

his mind swims, bursts of colour and movement flashing before him, gone before he even has time to understand what they are. head pounding, faces blur his vision- some he recognises, some he can't even begin to process if they are actually faces by the time they've vanished. people are shouting what might be his name and everything is- there's too much- there's way too much-

amidst the chaos, there's a gentle pressure against his forehead, and all of a sudden-

"I- grian?" joel is- he’s looking at grian. he’s only looking at grian.

grian's eyes are fading from purple back to black, and he looks so worried, joel is almost embarrassed. "i’m- void, i’m so sorry."

joel's chest is tight with fear, and now he isn't dealing with- whatever just happened, he realises that his back has begun to hurt a lot more than it already was. "what- what the fuck was that."

"it- that was my fault." grian drops his hands from joel's shoulders, and joel immediately misses the warmth, but he’s too focused on how guilty grian looks right now. "i’m- I was reckless- I knew what might happen, but I-"

"what happened?" joel says, almost exasperated. his back is killing him, and he doesn't know what's going on, and he just wants to go back to the mansion and curl up in their bed. "I don't- I don't care whose fault it is, I just- what was that?"

grian looks like he might cry, and that might just be the worst part of all of this. "you- so. you know what I am, right?"

"I- yeah?" joel remembers suddenly that scott and martyn are still here. "I- I know."

"well, that- if I get.. too close to someone, they-" grian's breath catches in his throat, and he coughs. joel wants to hug him, but- even the thought of lifting his arms that high makes his stomach turn. why does everything hurt so much? "it. it happens to them, too."

joel stares for a second, brain sluggish against the pain and overwhelm as he tries to understand what grian actually means. it takes a moment, but it begins to dawn on him. "you're saying- no, that wasn't-" he looks over at jimmy, half expecting to find him grinning. he is more solemn than joel has ever seen him. "that can't be- possible, I don't-"

"what did you see?" jimmy asks, and this is ludicrous, but-

"pearl and bigb." joel's head feels foggy, his spine burning at his flesh. "I- me, but, from scott's point of view. and my eyes were- wrong, I don't-" he takes a breath. "why did you not tell me?"

"selfishness, mostly." grian says softly. "there's no excuse."

"what- I just don't-" joel's breath is starting to feel laboured again as he tries to concentrate on his words and not how it feels as if his back is being sliced open. "why does it hurt?" his voice slips into something so vulnerable, joel is almost thankful that he’s too distracted to care that scott is right behind him.

for the first time, confusion flits across grian's expression, coupled with a concerning amount of panic. "I- hurt? what hurts?"

before joel can remember how to string the words together, scott is saying, "I- joel, take your jacket off."

grian looks as confused as joel feels, but scott sounds weirdly serious and joel is in too much pain to argue. "it- I can’t. it hurts to move."

"what's going on?" jimmy says, closer than he was a second ago.

"I would have thought you'd know." scott is saying, and joel is about to accept his fate and hit him when he finishes- "he’s growing wings."

there's a moment in which all joel can think is that he probably should have mentioned those feathers he kept finding in their bed, until there's a resounding squawk of- "what?"

"makes sense." joel grits out, if only because the juxtaposition is funny. if joel can’t commit to the bit in any situation, who even is he? "don't- don't suppose you have potions?"

"martyn, can you grab a golden apple?" scott says, stepping in front of joel—who is not happy that his best bet right now is scott smajor. he’s not so stubborn as to not accept his help though. "grian, help him take the jacket off. cut it off if needs-"

"you are- you are not ruining my jacket." joel manages to look up in order to glare at scott, but he falters as he takes in how concerned scott's expression is. scott notices him looking, and his face turns blank.

"fine- take the jacket off then, or it will get ruined." scott scoffs, turning away to watch martyn grab the apple.

"can you- are you gonna explain what is going on?" grian says, somewhat more desperate than joel thinks he meant to sound. "how is- why is this-"

a spasm of pain wracks joel's body, and he suppresses a scream as he falls forward on his arms, shaking a little. his breathing is heavy again- he just wants it to be over.

"if I die," joel manages, head swimming. "will- can I just-" he can’t muster up the energy to finish the sentence, but the desperation in it seems to be conveyed. can it just be over?

"I don’t know." scott says, and despite it all, the helplessness in his voice brings joel some sense of vindication. so he doesn’t know everything.

"okay, i’m- i’m gonna take your jacket off." grian says, more panicked than joel knows he wants to sound. "can you- is that possible?"

joel lets grian move around him, barely lifting each arm as grian guides the sleeve of the jacket off his shoulders. as soon as the first sleeve comes off, joel finds himself relaxing ever so slightly at the lack of pressure against his spine. he should probably make that vest bigger.

"why- why is this-" joel can barely manage half of that sentence before the pain becomes too much, but scott seems to understand what he was trying to ask.

"i don't- i’m not sure." scott says, more panicked than joel thinks he’s heard him in a long while. "I just- this kind of thing happened to me in double life, but I still don't understand-"

"oh void." grian says suddenly, and joel has to resist the impulse to turn his head. "I thought i’d- it shouldn't be possible anymore-"

"what shouldn't be possible?" jimmy says, with a sense of urgency joel has never heard from him before.

grian hesitates for a moment, and joel recognises it—grian always does this when he's about to say something either bizarre or embarrassing. or both, more often than not. "the game- it thinks we're soulbound."

there's a pause as everyone seems to process this ridiculous information, before jimmy says, "it- but why does it hurt? tango grew wings in double life, and he didn't even notice until his shirt got torn."

"there's- it's a.. thing." grian audibly winces as he speaks, as if he knows exactly how terrible whatever he’s going to say will sound and is preemptively apologetic. of course. "the closer soulmates are—like, emotionally close, I mean—the less painful it is- and vice versa. but- the game thinks we're soulmates, which. I assume is- is 'cause we're close. so since we're not actually soulbound-"

"it thinks that must be distance." scott realises. joel is gonna murder someone once he regains the use of his body.

joel groans, dropping his head to the ground in exhausted exasperation. "why's everything so.. weirdwith you?" he manages.

"i’m so sorry." grian says, voice quiet enough that joel thinks only he was meant to hear it.

joel is about to tell him not to worry about it when a kind of pain he’s never felt before in his life shoots through his back- and the ripping of flesh is all he can hear, a scream forcing its way from his mouth- primeval and torturous. he’s never felt pain before- he’s never felt death before- there can be nothing worse than this.

it feels like years until joel realises that he is beginning to see shapes again, that there are other noises in the world other than his own whimpers of agony, that the terrible tearing is not all he can feel anymore. there's something that feels like a viscous kind of liquid against his skin, and a sickly sweet smell that he can’t quite name. healing potion, joel recognises as the pain begins to lessen.

after a long moment, joel finds himself able to push himself into a sitting position- and almost falls backwards as newfound weight pulls him down again. jimmy is in front of him all of a sudden, catching his shoulders and wiping something wet off his face. it could be tears, or blood, or potion—joel has no idea.

"you- you with us?" jimmy asks, a scared-looking smile on his face, as if trying to reassure joel of something he can't bring himself to trust. "you’re not- you’re feeling better?"

joel nods, suddenly exhausted and more thankful than he realised for the warmth of jimmy's hands against his arms. "you- you guys are such nerds."

jimmy grins, looking ridiculously relieved at being insulted, and there's a soft laugh from next to him that sounds like grian. "yeah?" jimmy says. "how's that?"

"not- not sure if I misheard, but." joel takes a breath, and jimmy squeezes his arm gently. "'think you care about me so much that the game thinks we're soulmates. and you- you turned me into a watcher, or something." joel manages a grin.

"yeah. you heard right." jimmy says, and there's a rush of affection in joel's chest. "I- do you want to lie down or something, 'cause you look like you’re about to pass out."

joel answers by shuffling slowly forwards and falling onto jimmy—far too tired and in far too much pain to let the embarrassment stop him. jimmy gives a slight gasp of worry, before wrapping his arms around joel's waist, lower than joel expected him to. it takes a second for him to remember that- he has wings now, which are probably in the way of normal hugs. jimmy presses a kiss into joel's hair, and he makes a soft sound of content.

"sorry I took so long." martyn's voice comes from somewhere behind him, more nervous than joel thinks he’s heard him in a while. man, he should grow wings more often if it makes everyone this scared. how's that for a trap? "we didn’t- I wasn't sure you’d be able to eat the apple-"

martyn's explanation is reduced to white noise in joel's ears, and- void, he’s tired. jimmy's heartbeat is audible from where joel is leant against him, and he can almost feel the way his own heart stutters to catch up; he wonders if grian's heart is at the same pace, with whatever this bizarre game has done to deign them unofficial soulmates. he wishes he had enough energy to pull grian into their hug and see for himself if their hearts all beat in unison now.

something occurs to him all of a sudden, and joel closes his eyes. he isn’t sure- and now probably is the worst time to try this kind of thing out, when he has no idea how any of it works, but maybe he can.. do something with this whole watcher thing.

joel feels as if he’s trying to use a muscle that doesn’t exist—like some kind of phantom limb—but after a moment, grian's face comes into view. it's easier than he thought it'd be. almost like controlling a timelapse drone, but with your mind, and also the video is directly transmitted into your brain. it's pretty cool.

there's a stab of regret as joel stops congratulating himself on such a good job, and actually takes in the amount of guilt etched into every line of grian's face. his stomach drops as he turns (kind of? he sorta- uh. hard to explain, actually) and sees that jimmy is wearing a painfully similar expression. almost scared to see, joel looks at martyn and scott, and is at least vaguely reassured to see that they just look worried. frankly, if joel ever saw scott looking guilty because of joel, he'd have to end his own series.

"it- it's not your fault y'know." joel manages—more of a mumble than anything else, but grian and jimmy both seem to know he’s talking to them. "'s kinda cool. I should probably thank you."

grian is looking at him- or, maybe his.. watcher drone? either way, he seems to know he’s being looked at. "I am sorry, either way." he says, but he doesn’t look as devastated as he did a moment ago. "I didn’t- I should have told you what could happen."

joel snorts. "if you thought I was about to turn down cool powers and wings, you don’t know me well enough." he finds that it's getting somehow easier to speak, despite being exhausted, and he remembers the healing potion still travelling through his veins. he never thought he'd be this thankful for martyn- probably ever.

grian smiles, and it feels as if a knot in joel's chest has dissipated. "you’re definitely getting the hang of it."

jimmy hums in agreement. "it's not called a drone though." he says, and it very suddenly occurs to joel what a listener must be able to do. "I- did you not already know?"

"how was I meant to?" joel huffs, watching with slight embarrassment as jimmy smiles at it. "you’re a secretive lot."

"so- and I hate to disrupt this," scott suddenly says, and joel suppresses an instinctive groan. "but do you need any more help?"

there's a mischievous kind of look that flashes across grian's face, if only for a second, and joel can't help but feel reassured by the fact that he's getting back to normal. "well- we could use a couple allies?"

scott sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can’t really turn you down now, can I?" he says, and there's a weird kind of tone that makes joel wonder if he’s actually as annoyed as he’s putting on.

"I just grew wings." joel mumbles, unintentionally quiet but apparently effectively sympathetic, as even martyn seems to be swayed. look at him go. "'can’t just.. throw us to the wolves now."

scott rubs his face with a hand, clearly throughly exasperated at how easily he has been won over. "yeah- okay, fine. we can be allies."

"thanks." jimmy grins a little, and joel watches as scott softens ever so slightly at it.

joel opens his eyes, and he’s once again staring into the coral reef, facing away from everyone else. jimmy's hand is in his hair, and his back is only aching now. he’s a little worried to move, in case it all starts feeling abysmal again, but he can hardly spend the rest of his 24 hours on the mean gills' bridge.

"I could carry you." jimmy suggests, and joel makes a noise of concern—thinking about how precarious they've made their base. "that's- yeah, that's a good point."

"could you try to stand?" grian says tentatively. his voice sounds closer than it was a moment ago, and there's a hand on joel's shoulder that has to be grian's. "the pain shouldn't get too much worse, since the potion has actually fixed a lot of the wounds."

joel wonders if grian can read minds too, or if he just knows what joel would be thinking. he doesn’t think he can read minds, which suggests that- maybe grian just knows him that well. it's a nice thought.

he pushes himself slightly more upward, regretful as he leaves the warmth of jimmy's embrace- and immediately begins to fall backwards again, once again completely forgetting how unbalanced he is now. both jimmy and grian make noises of panic before joel catches himself before he topples all the way over, and he can’t help grinning despite the twinge of pain the sudden movement shoots through his back- and wings, which is a bizarre feeling.

"I might need some help not falling over." joel grins, as grian stands up and lends him a hand. "but it doesn’t hurt that much anymore."

"that's good." grian says, a wave of relief overtaking his expression. joel squeezes his hand, and grian smiles.

jimmy is at his side before joel realises. "maybe we avoid bread bridge for a bit." he says, and joel snorts.

the journey back to the mansion is not nearly as perilous as joel had worried it'd be, considering that it's day and anyone they bumped into seemed to notice the dried blood accompanying the very large wings on joel's back and presumably decided that trying to kill them now would just be rude. the downright murderous looks from both jimmy and grian when someone came a little too close with a weapon, or made just a bit too serious of a threat probably also helped.

instead of attempt to swim with the unfamiliar weight of his newgrown wings, joel elects to pillar up instead. jimmy and grian hover next to him, climbing onto trees and swimming up the water in some attempt to provide a safety net if he falls. admittedly, it's quite sweet- not that he's about to tell them that. he instead settles on insisting that he knows how to pillar up, and praying to every deity that might exist for him not to fall off immediately.

luckily, no one falls or dies or whatever, and they all make it to the top of the mansion in one piece. joel is prepared to pass out in their bed as soon as he reaches it, but he doesn’t really want his bad boys to worry even more at his exhaustion.

as if reading his mind- oh. he forgot- yeah, he can actually do that, can't he? it- anyway, jimmy plops himself down, and gestures for grian and joel to join him—which joel happily obliges. grian almost hesitates, but joel drags him along, and grian doesn't even bother protesting.

joel lays next to jimmy, and grian—who followed quickly after him—pulls him into a hug. huffing softly, joel hugs back. "it's okay." he mumbles into grian's shoulder. "I promise- i'd say something if it weren't."

"I know." grian half-whispers, clearly fighting tears. "i’m- I just can’t get over- I did this to you."

joel swallows more emotion than he expected. "yeah. but- it's- it's 'cause you care. it's not- I can’t hate that." grian makes a little noise that could be a suppressed sob.

"thank you." joel can barely make it out, but he can’t help but blink back tears at the honesty in it- from grian, of all people, that means a lot.

his wings are still sore, and moving them sends an ache down his back, but joel finds himself wanting to wrap them around grian. "I just- I also- y’know. care." joel says, kind of hoping it's too muffled for either grian or jimmy to hear. "it's- I like having.. I don’t know, a piece of you guys with me."

grian sniffles, holding joel tighter. "I- dude, you’re- you’re gonna make me cry."

"join the club." joel huffs a laugh, eyes burning. he buries his face in grian's jumper in the hopes that it'll wipe away any tears that come.

there's a very quiet clearing of someone's throat next to them—unmistakably jimmy. joel doesn’t even need to look up to know he’s also trying not to start crying, and he blindly reaches out a hand until he finds jimmy's shirt and pulls him towards them both. grian catches on, shifting a little to make room for their bad boy.

"I- I didn’t wanna ruin the moment." jimmy is saying as both grian and joel drag him into the hug.

joel can't help smiling as he feels jimmy wrap his arms around him, which- it's embarrassing, but weirdly, he doesn’t even care. "as if either of you could ruin anything." he scoffs, almost to himself.

there's a kiss pressed into his hair, and grian laughs as joel rolls his eyes (if only to disguise how much he appreciates it). "bad boys for life, right?"

jimmy mhms along as joel grins, "bad boys for life."

#the title is maybe a bit on the nose but I was struggling with song lyrics and monster by dodie is one of my favourites #gore #body horror #how else do you tag growing wings very violently #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #grian #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #bad boys #the bad boys #limited life smp #the end may be a bit weird but honestly idec it's been 7 months #wren writes #trafficblr #trafficfic

46 notes · View notes

the-broken-truth · 7 months ago

Text

Yuu - Child of the Great Seven [5]: The Sea Witch in Octavinelle

Summary: The Sea Witch visits Mostro Lounge in Octavinelle with her trusted Eel Familiars while waiting for her child to arrive from Ramshackle. How will Azul react?

Jamil: Hey! I thought you said Scarabia was next!

Broken: Sorry about that, Jamil. Your chapter is next.

Note: To keep my sanity, the Eels shall have their canon names.

[To say that Azul Ashengrotto was trying his best to keep his composure and not fanboy right where he was standing was a complete understatement, and if he were to fanboy, could anyone honestly blame him? The Sea Witch - A Member of the Divine Great Seven & Mom to his Most Precious Pearl, Yuu - was currently standing [She's Currently In Human Form - She has Legs] in the middle of the Mostro Lounge with her hands resting on her hips as her heels clicked with each step she took through the lounge with a smile on her face.]. Floyd and Jade standing beside him while their eyes were glued on the large eels that floated around in the air while not leaving the Sea Witch's Side; using their magic to maintain a small bubble of water to keep their skin moist, they had human forms, but they preferred to remain eels.]

Flotsam: Our Lady, Most Generous Sea Witch! We must say-

Jetsam: -this place is far more interesting than we assumed it to be. However, that is to be expected-

Flotsam & Jetsam: When an ASHENGROTTO runs the show! (Laughing)

Sea Witch: Now. Now. Boys, remember to behave: We are guests here and these young men mean something to my Little Pearl.

Flotsam: Speaking of the Little Octopi, where are they hiding?

Jetsam: Yes! The Little Octopi is never late for important business!

[Just then: the door of Mostro Lounge opens and Yuu walks in with an outfit that is mixed between the Octavinelle Dorm Unform and the Sea Witch's Dress with a shell necklace around their neck.]

Yuu (Walking over to the Sea Witch): Forgive me for being late, Mom; I was trying to mentally prepare myself for today.

Sea Witch: Oh, don't worry about that, My Little Fry; your friends have been most accommodating to me. Such polite boys. [Yuu smiles as Flotsam and Jetsam swim over to them.]

Flotsam: Oh, brother! Oh, brother! Who is this I see before me?

Jetsam: The Little Octopi? Could it be?!

Flotsam: Did you come to sing and play?

Yuu: That depends: How much will you pay?

Flotsam & Jetsam (Laughing): Ah, yes! It has been a long time, Little Octopi. We thought you were going to forget the Number One Eel Rule.

Yuu, Flotsam, and Jetsam: Always profit!

Sea Witch (Claps): Oh, yes! Profit is important, but what is most important, Little Fry?

Yuu: Always make the deal fair - you'll get more business and money that way.

Sea Witch: I taught you well.

Jade: Hm. With rules like that, I can understand why the Mostro Lounge got a sudden increase in funds that day.

Azul: Day? What day?

Jade: Oh, that's right. We failed to inform you.

Floyd: Remember when ya go sick and you asked Jade and me to watch the Lounge?

Azul: I remember asking Jade.

Floyd: We're Twins! We do everything together! The thing is Jade and I asked Shrimpy to help us!

Azul: What?! Why didn't you tell me you bothered Pearl with that?!

Jade: You were sick and stressed.

Floyd: And we were bored! So, we grabbed Shirimpy when the Baby Seal wasn't looking, dragged them to Mostro Lounge, and left them there to take care of it!

Jade: Imagine our surprise when the Prefect not only managed to run the lounge with no prior experience but increased our normal sales by 3 for the consistency of a week.

Azul (Brain Loading): Daily Sales increase by 3x...for a week?

Jade: Yes. Didn't you see it in the Ledger? I wrote it down.

[Without a word: Azul went back into his office and was gone for about 10 minutes.]

Yuu (Being nuzzled by Jetsam and Flotsam): Hm... Is he okay in there?

Jade: Give him a moment.

[After another 4 minutes: Azul comes back into the Lounge.]

Yuu: There you are, Azul-senpai. (Sees a Golden Contract in Azul's Hand) What are you going to do with that?

Azul (Holds the contract out to Yuu): Sign it.

Yuu: Why?

Azul (Walks towards them like a robot): Sign it.

Yuu: I am not signing that.

Azul: Sign It! (Runs at Yuu)

Yuu: AHHH! (Runs around the Mostro Lounge with Azul chasing them)

Azul (Chasing Yuu): DON'T RUN, PEARL! THIS IS OUR DESTINY! SIGN IT!!!

Yuu (Still Running): I DON'T WANNA!

Azul: BECOME MY BUSINESS PARTNER, PEARL!!!

Yuu: I'M NOT READY FOR THAT KIND OF COMMITMENT!!!

[The Sea Witch, Leech Twins, and Eels sit in a booth and watch Azul chase Yuu around the Mostro Lounge.]

Jade: Should we help the Prefect? Azul is gaining on them.

Flotsam & Jetsam: Nope.

Sea Witch: My Little Octopi will be okay.

Floyd: Run, Little Shrimp, Run!

[One Hour Later]

Yuu (Trapped in Octo-Azul's Tentacles while being pulled into the Octopus Pot) (Clawing at the carpet): NO! NO! I WANT TO LIVE!

[Yuu gets pulled into the Pot]

Yuu (Lunges out with their hand reaching for the door): I WANT TO LIVE!!! (Gets yanked back into the Octopus Pot)

Jade: Well... We won't be seeing them for a while.

Sea Witch: Is he normally like that?

Jade: Indeed. When Azul is stressed or overworked, he uses the Prefect as a Cuddle Buddy. The Prefect was the first person who saw Azul as a decent person, even after he attempted to swindle them.

Floyd: That's Shrimpy for ya.

[In The Octopus Pot]

Octo-Azul (Hugging Yuu, who is petting his hair): Thanks for always being there for me.

Yuu: It's okay, Azul; you're kinda like the Big Brother I always wanted to have.

Octo-Azul: If that's the case... Will you sign a contract stating that I am your brother?

Yuu (Rolls Eyes): I'm not signing a contract, Azul.

Octo-Azul: Why not?

Yuu: Knowing you, you would put in the terms and conditions that I have to answer all your phone calls, have dinner with you every weekend, have study sessions with you, and I'm not allowed to date anyone who you don't approve of; and you don't approve of anyone around me. Also, I know tat you would pull the 'Elder Brother' Card on me whenever you can.

Octo-Azul: No, I wouldn't.

Yuu: What did I say about lying?

Octo-Azul: It only works for Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Floyd.

Yuu: Are you any of them?

Octo-Azul: No.

Yuu: Exactly.

[END]

#twisted wonderland #the great seven au #the great seven #yuu has magic #octavinelle #the sea witch #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #flotsam and jetsam

140 notes · View notes

narrynukezankielover · 6 months ago

Text

I love that in this scene (ep 9) Dean once again defends Cas to Ezekiel/Gadriel. Ezekiel/Gadriel asking Dean what he’s going to do about Cas being around them and Dean gets pissed off. He says that Cas is the one that the angels are after and yet he’s fighting. He wonders what Ezekiel/Gadriel is afraid of. Cas has been on earth for like 6 years and I’m happy to see him understanding human things. He could tell that every time Sam brought up Cas leaving the bunker Dean changed the subject and Cas waited until he was alone with Dean to ask him about that. He understands that Dean changing the subject meant there was something Dean didn’t want to talk about with Sam in the room. Back in season 4 Cas wouldn’t have understood that and probably would’ve said something at the wrong time. Then the fact that Cas knew that Dean is in a tough situation and even though he wants to be around Dean he knew he had to listen to Dean.

I’m pretty much just adding this part because Cas looks amazing. I don’t like that he’s being tortured and that he has blood on him but I love seeing him half naked. I will say there was soooo many missed opportunities with human Cas. I would’ve loved to seen Dean teaching Cas to cook or to shave or even something stupid like tieing his shoelaces. In my opinion they didn’t think this storyline completely out. There’s a few things that happened that don’t make sense. Like how did that angel (April I think her name was) find Cas since he had the tattoo?

In ep 9 Dean tells Cas they have to stay away from each other and at the end of that ep Cas says he should stay away from Dean and the very next ep (ep 10) Dean calls Cas for help and Cas comes right away. I would love to know what happened to Cas tie. He obviously magics up his suit and trench coat considering when he got out of purgatory he was still wearing the clothes he got from the mental hospital then when he came out of the bathroom he had his suit on so where is his tie now? I also love how Dean is looking at Cas here. He obviously loves looking at Cas in his suit (the ep where Cas gets out of purgatory proves that) and Cas is letting Dean look.

This scene is hilarious. There’s an angel, a human and the king of hell and the human takes over. It’s Cas car (I’d love to know how Cas learned to drive) yet Dean just goes directly to the drivers side and tells Crowley to get in the back which he listens to Dean (at that point Crowley is handcuffed so he doesn’t have powers) and tells Cas to get in the back with Crowley and Cas listens to him. Cas and Dean will literally do anything the other asks them to do. Another cute thing I noticed Crowley said to Cas riddle me this boy wonder. Riddle me this is what the Riddler says and he is a villain so obviously Crowley is calling himself a villain (he’s the king of hell obviously he’s a villain) but Dean is in the scene and Jensen has voiced Batman a few times. Boy wonder is Robin which is Batmans sidekick so Crowley is calling Cas Deans sidekick.

Dean finally apologizes to Cas for not telling him about Gadriel possessing Sam snd kicking Cas out of the bunker and I love that Cas completely understood what was going on and that Dean really thought Sams life was in danger. This scene also had my second favourite quote so far in the show Dean says we’re dumbasses and Cas says I prefer the word trusting less dumb less ass.

This scene is interesting. Pretty much since Cas and Dean have known each other Dean says whatever he wants to to Cas without any fear that Cas will hurt him because he knows he’s the one person Cas won’t hurt. Cas gets pissed off when he finds out the angel possessing Sam is Gadriel and that Gadriel is the reason for all the bad stuff that has happened to earth and Dean clearly knows that Cas is pissed off because he puts his hands up. To me he is showing Cas that he knows that Cas is an extremely strong angel even with his stolen grace (at this point at least) and can kill anyone if he wants to and right now Cas wants to kill Gadriel but Dean knows he has to calm Cas down so they can get Gadriel out of Sam.

To me (ep11) this shows how much Dean trusts Cas. Crowley is trying to look at the journal but Dean pulls it away from him. Back in season 8 Cas was picking through Deans stuff and looking through the journal and Dean didn’t care. Even in the scene when Naomi comes to Dean and Dean says he doesn’t trust angels which means I don’t trust you. Obviously that scene was about Dean not putting the signs on the boat so Cas would be able to come back to him but it does show Cas is the exception to that rule. Plus in the ep before this Dean was willing to let Cas possess Sam to get Gadriel out. He knows how much trouble letting Gadriel possess Sam made but Cas is the one angel he trusts would get Gadriel out and wouldn’t hurt Sam in the process.

I love that here Cas is trying to defend Dean to Sam. I don’t think Sam understands that Dean lied to Cas too but Cas got over it.

I love how honest Cas is. He’s always been truthful about how much he doesn’t like Sam. Cas has said that he doesn’t like the sound of Sams voice and other such things. I found it interesting that Cas said that before he became human he would’ve pushed the needle into Sams neck and killed him because the ends always justifies the means but now that he’s had human emotions he no longer feels that way. I find it interesting because even before Cas was human Cas would never do something like that to Dean. He didn’t need human emotions to feel like that for Dean. I personally don’t see Cas and Sam as friends I see them as putting up with each other for Dean. I do think that them spending that time together did help them not to become friends but to understand each other better and be able to be around each other if Deans not around.

#castiel #cockles #dean x castiel #destiel #deancas

82 notes · View notes

schrijverr · 1 year ago

Text

Batman Fatale

While on a mission with the Justice League, Batman (who hasn’t revealed his secret identity) pulls out his Brucie voice, shocking the others.

Inspired by Head Problems by That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl on AO3.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

The Justice League is going for stealth, something Bruce didn’t think they were capable off, but so far he’s been pleasantly surprised. Though, maybe the promise of a good brawl later is what is keeping them quiet.

They’re infiltrating into Luthor’s office, underneath which he is building a robot army to overtake the world in the name of peace. Hacking in to disable them means sounding the alarm and Bruce has already calculated that it will take too long for him not to get swarmed by them, before he can take them out. Hence, the League, who will keep them off his back while he works.

However, they’ve run into a bit of roadblock in the form of the security guard, who is manning the front desk during the night shift.

Everyone has thrown out ideas to take him out, but Bruce wants to attract attention as late as possible and there are likely human operatives further down as well. They’ll notice if the guard were to disappear.

Besides, the guy, Amir, cleared his background check when he was planning this mission. He doesn’t know what he’s guarding and is just trying to make ends meat.

So, he holds up his hand and the whispered deliberation quiets down. As he pulls out his phone, he says: “I’ll handle this. Wait for my orders.”

They all shoot him confused and wary looks as he sets to dialing on his phone, keeping the screen away from them. He can say that it hurts that they don’t fully trust him, but he doesn’t care. He has his own family/team back in Gotham and if being a mysterious prick keeps his kids safe, he’ll gladly play the part.

He knew this roadblock might come up, so he prepared in advance. So, within seconds he is bringing the phone to his ear, while the others continue to look between him and the guard that’s on the other side of the glass doors.

Bruce mentally laughs, they probably expect assassins to swoop down and drag the man into the shadows.

Which is the opposite of what happens, because instead Amir startles then looks down at his now ringing phone. He smiles, then looks around a bit, checking that the coast is clear and completely missing the League, before picking up.

As Amir looks around, Hal hisses: “What the hell are you doing, Spooks? You don’t call the guy you wanna sneak-”

He shuts him up with a hand over his mouth, because Amir has picked up now. “Hey, hi, uhm, how are you doing, John?”

John is the fake name he used on the dating profile with the doctored photos. He feels a little bad about catfishing him, it’s slimy and Amir is actually cute too. Still, can’t be helped, so he puts as much Brucie charm into his voice as he flirty replies: “Hi, Amir, I’m good, just lonely. Would be better if you were with me. I’m practically indecent here for you.”

Immediately all the League’s heads snap his way, but he ignores them in favor of observing Amir. He is blushing, but looks pleased, before he sags a little. “I would love you, you’re so handsome-”

“I’d prefer pretty,” Bruce interrupts. “If you’re letting me down, at least call me pretty so I’ll know what it’ll sound like from you.”

Now Amir’s darker skin gets even more dark as he continues to blush. He stammers: “No, no, no. Not letting you down. Fuck. You’re so pretty, John. Of course I’m not letting you down. I’m just working, pretty boy, just working.”

“Booo,” Bruce whines, knowing how to sound appealing instead of annoying, albeit a little spoiled. “Can’t you just have a little break? Where do you work? I can come over, little blowie in the ally on a smoke break never hurt anybody.”

Amir groans at the offer, leaning back in his chair and looking at the ceiling, feeling a little despair by the look on his face. “I could get fired,” he protests, but it’s weak. Got him.

Bruce knows that he’s going to get fired anyway for letting them pass, but at least like this he’s out of harm’s way. He’s planning on offering him a job anyway. So, he insists again: “Promise I’ll get you off before they notice. It’ll tide me over until they let you go and you can show me what a proper good time is.”

Now Amir is looking around, no one except the League (who are all still staring and he wishes they’d stop) to see. So, he relents: “Alright, I work at the Luthor office. Uptown, you know it?”

“Oh my god, you’re kidding?” Bruce laughs in his most ditzy Brucie voice. “I’m literally at one of the bars down the street.”

“And what are you doing there?” Amir asks, trying to sound flirty, but coming across as a little insecure. It’s cute on him.

Bruce imagines himself twirling the phone cord at this point as he bats his eyes through his voice as he says: “Feeling lonely and thinking about you.”

Amir looks relieved at that, straightening up again as he asks: “Well, I can change one part of that for you. How fast can you get here?”

“Like two minutes,” Bruce answers.

“Meet you in the alley on the left then,” Amir says. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, handsome,” Bruce greets back, before hanging up. The second the line is dead, he reverts back to Batman’s voice and grunts: “Get ready to move.”

“What the fuck was that, Batman!” Hal is unsurprisingly the first to break. He never does know how to keep his mouth shut during stealth missions.

“Are you still Batman? Please tell me you’re still Batman. Because if you’ve been replaced by some alien, shape shifter or pod person, I don’t know what to do with myself. So you have to be Batman, even though Batman is creepy and mean and stand-offish and not flirty and-”

“Flash, quiet,” Bruce cuts of the rambling of the speedster. He’s not in the mood.

“You can at least tell us how you know the guard,” Clark speaks up, going for firm leader. Bruce can respect him for trying to lead these people who are all obviously not used to working as a team nor good at it. But the boy scout act sometimes gets on Bruce’s nerves.

He’s sure his kids and Alfred will have something to say about it, pointing to his trust issues that makes him perceive everything as an interrogation, but they aren’t here right now. Plus, he knows Damian at least will be on his side. He has people in his camp.

… Though that might not be a good thing. Hm, should he talk to Damian about it?

“It seems familiar somehow,” Oliver comments and Bruce hopes Amir moves soon. The last thing he wants is for Ollie to figure out who is under the cowl, the man is insufferable enough as it is.

“Batman?” Clark prompts, apparently he’s been quiet for long enough.

Falling back on one of his contingencies, he says: “Everyone should have skills in the acting and grifting department. Contact is sometimes unavoidable. I study people and I plan ahead. This is planning ahead.”

Right at that moment, Amir finally moves. Bruce feels a little bad about standing him up, but is glad to grapple away from the rest of the League. He hopes there will be a fight soon, because that way no one can ask him more questions.

#rr writing #batman #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #clark kent #superman #hal jordan #green latern #green arrow #oliver queen #flash #barry allen #justice league #jl #jla #dc #dc comics

224 notes · View notes

silverynight · 2 months ago

Text

The heart of the barbarian King

<--Previous

Chapter 3

He feels a bit better after breakfast, mostly because he's finally meeting Dynamight.

"Really?" Izuku grins, unable to control his excitement.

"I did promise, didn't I?" Katsuki smiles back, grabbing his arm to lead him outside and into the woods. "Don't worry, it's not far from here. On the base of the mountain, there's a cave, that's where Dynamight usually sleeps."

He's going to see a dragon for the first time; the omega doesn't care if it's close or not. They could walk for a whole day and he'd do it gladly.

"Wait." Katsuki stops him, smiling again. He seems to be in a very good mood that morning. "I need to scent you first."

Izuku nods, not even questioning it. He trusts the alpha, and he also likes his scent very much. It's comforting.

The King pulls him closer and starts nuzzling against his neck; he can't help but purr when he's done, so Izuku purrs right back in response.

"I see!" He says, moving his own hands together in a single clap. "You want the dragon to think I'm yours, so he can trust me!"

The barbarian King blinks a couple of times before staring back at Izuku; his cheeks turn slightly pink, but he nods nonetheless.

"Yeah, right," he mumbles, looking a bit flustered. "I want him to know you're mine."

"Alright! Then let me scent you right back!"

By the time they reach the base of the mountain, Katsuki's smug smile has vanished.

He grows a bit tense as he pushes the omega behind himself.

"Just... stay there for a while. Even if you smell like me right now, Dynamight doesn't trust humans that easily."

Izuku can hear the dragon now, or his huge feet at least.

"Dynamight, I'm back!"

The dragon growls in response before moving his heavy body out of the cave; for some reason, Izuku can tell he's not upset at all.

He's clearly glad to see Katsuki.

"Nerd, what are you doing?"

Izuku can't help it, he moves away from the alpha so he can see the creature more clearly. The dragon is way bigger than the King's house, his red scales shine prettily under the sunlight, and his golden eyes finally meet Izuku's.

"Hi!" He beams, incredibly excited.

Before Katsuki can stop him, Dynamight lowers his huge head until it's right in front of the green haired omega.

He starts wagging his tail before he nuzzles Izuku and almost pushes him to the ground because he's way too strong.

"What?"

"Who's a good boy?" Izuku ignores the alpha's shocked expression and starts petting the dragon instead. "Yes, you are!"

Katsuki facepalms himself, pretending to be annoyed, but Izuku can tell by his scent that he's very pleased.

"I swear he's very intimidating when he wants to," the alpha huffs, getting closer to them. "I don't know why he just... trusts you like this."

"That's because he thinks I'm your omega."

"I don't think that's the case," Katsuki argues, although he smiles when Izuku says that.

They stay with Dynamight for a while; Izuku tries to memorize the way the creature looks while he asks the alpha a lot of questions about him. He'll make sure to take a lot of notes about Dynamight as soon as he goes back to the house.

"Alright, that's enough!" Katsuki hisses after a while, looking very irritated.

Izuku has no idea why he seems so angry out of the sudden until something sour coming from his scent hits his nostrils.

"Kacchan, are you jealous?"

The alpha turns completely red at the question; Izuku thinks it's adorable.

"Hey, you shouldn't be!" He smiles softly at him. "You're clearly Dynamight's favorite! And I'm not going to take him from you!"

Katsuki blinks a couple of times, like he's processing what Izuku just said. Then, like he wasn't pouting a few seconds ago, he chuckles.

"It wasn't like that. You got it completely wrong."

Izuku tilts his head in confusion. He's pretty sure his inner omega picked up jealousy in Katsuki's scent. But now he believes he could have misinterpreted it. People in the village used to call him oblivious after all.

Before he can say anything else, he feels Dynamight's muzzle on his back and the next thing he knows is that he's being pushed forward, right into the alpha's arms.

Katsuki nuzzles against his green curls, embracing him without hesitation. He chuckles, still amused.

"Thank you, Dynamight."

It's obvious those two understand one another very well, because Izuku finds himself very confused after all that, but he decides to focus on all the information he learned about dragons that day instead.

***

Katsuki's friends come to pay him a visit, but they don't go into the house, so Izuku has to go outside to meet them.

He finds it a bit weird, but he tells himself that's probably another one of their customs he knows nothing about.

That's when he sees Kirishima's mate for the first time; his name is Kaminari Denki and he's a beta.

He meets Ashido Mina as well, who's another one of Katsuki's generals, and an alpha too. And then there's Jiro Kyoka, the only omega in the group, besides Izuku.

"He's too pretty for you," Jiro comments then, looking from Izuku to Katsuki. "And he looks way too kind. Can't believe he's your childhood friend; you probably were a tiny nightmare as a kid."

"Shut up!" Katsuki growls, although he doesn't seem actually mad at her.

"Kacchan wasn't that bad!" The green haired omega says then. Sure, he was constantly frowning and yelling, but he had a good heart. Just like he does now. "He protected me from bullies!"

"Based on what this gremlin told us about his childhood, it seems like he made sure no one got too close to you, not only bullies," Ashido comments, making the others laugh.

"What do you mean?"

Nobody gets to answer his question because Katsuki growls at his friends; his face is so red Izuku worries about him for a moment.

"Wait. Let's go back a bit... What did you call him?"

"You mean Kacchan? I used to call him that when we were kids and I just... never stopped."

"That's cute!" Kaminari chuckles, looking up at very annoyed Katsuki. "Can I call you that too?"

"Just try it and we'll see what happens, Dunce face!"

"Calm down! I was just joking! I know that's a thing between you and your mate, obviously!"

Izuku blushes to the tip of his ears, he's not sure if he should correct Kaminari about it; he's not the King's mate after all, but at the same time Kaminari could've been just joking.

He must be, right?

"Does it bother you when I call you Kacchan?" He asks, deciding to address the other topic first. "I can stop, if you want!"

Katsuki growls, but then he melts as soon as he notices Izuku's genuinely worried expression.

"You know you can call me whatever the fuck you want," he assures the omega with a soft smile. "It's fine if it's you, Izuku."

For a moment, as they both look at each other, the omega forgets the others are still there, watching them.

"Listen, sorry to interrupt, but I need to tell you something... about Chisaki. He accepted the banishment without a fight," Kirishima informs his friend, as the others gather around Izuku. "None of his men went with him, but I'm not sure..."

"Just keep an eye on them," Katsuki says, glancing at Izuku for a moment, hearing him laugh as Kaminari tells him something stupid probably. "I don't want any of the scumbag's men near my nerd."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. It's a good thing none of them are brave enough to come here because this place is really close to Dynamight's lair."

Katsuki nods, although he's still worried.

"What about the heads of the clans?"

"Three of them are not happy about Chisaki's banishment."

When Izuku smells a little bit of distress coming from the barbarian king, he turns his head around to look at him, still speaking with Kirishima.

"Izuku, I'll be back. I need to talk to some idiots about something," he says, clearly in a bad mood. "Come here. I need to relax. Otherwise, I'll probably end up cutting someone's throat."

This time, when Katsuki's nuzzles against his cheek, it feels different, mostly because all his friends are watching.

"I'll try to come back soon."

"Alright, Kacchan!" To his surprise, all his friends stay with Izuku.

"It's kinda weird to see him so affectionate with someone," Kaminari comments then, moving closer to Kirishima, who gives him a quick kiss on the top of his yellowish hair.

They look cute together.

"I'm glad you're here now," Jiro says then, smiling softly at Izuku. "It's, I mean... he was planning on looking for you when he turned 18, but his parents died then, and he had to take their place as the barbarian King."

He blinks a couple of times, not sure what to say about that.

Katsuki was going to look for him? Even after all those years?

Ashido starts asking about the dragon then, prompting Izuku to gush happily for a while.

"Dynamight was wagging his tail?" Kirishima asks, surprised. "Man... he has never trusted any of us completely. You're very lucky."

"Maybe you got some sort of connection with dragons too," Ashido adds, tapping her own chin with her index finger, deep in thought. "Just like our gremlin King does."

"Wow. You are truly that compatible," Kaminari says.

That must be why they're such good friends.

After a while, they offer to show him around, and Izuku agrees gladly. The first time he got there, he just saw the market.

He'd like to explore a bit more.

***

Izuku notices almost immediately; the way the people in town look at him; some with curiosity, others with evident disapproval and a few have started to bow in front of him.

"They know I live with Kacchan already?" The omega asks, with a bit of concern, as all the people around try (and fail) to pretend they haven't been staring at him since he got to the market.

"That kind of news travel fast, sweetie," Ashido explains to him; all of the King's friends have been trying to shield him from curious glances as much as they can, but they can't cover other people's eyes.

Even if they want to.

"I think they're also drawn to your beautiful hair and eyes," Kaminari adds, smiling at him. "Green is not a common color among our people."

Out of the corner of his eye, the omega thinks he sees someone from Chisaki's group for a second and he tenses immediately. Kirishima probably notices something too because he gets closer to Izuku and puts a reassuring hand over his shoulder.

"It's okay, they can't hurt you now."

Izuku is not so sure about that, but he nods and smiles, mostly to make the others feel better. He makes a mental note to ask Katsuki to teach him hand to hand combat, just in case.

"I think I just saw someone selling berries!" Jiro takes him by the arm, already pulling towards that tent. "You mentioned you wanted some..."

"Yes, but I don't have any money on me."

"Don't worry, your blond gremlin will pay for everything!" Ashido adds, making him laugh.

They're really good at making him feel better; Katsuki surely has great friends. Thanks to them, Izuku doesn't out of place anymore.

"Now, about heats," Jiro gets closer to him as the other three start quickly chatting. "This potion is what we use here. It works as a suppressant."

Izuku looks down at the small container with relief; his heat is not close, but he was already wondering what he was going to do about that when the time came.

"Thank you!" He says as he takes the purple potion in his hands.

Jiro grins before handing him another one; a red potion.

"And this one is to trigger it."

"Oh," the omega looks at it with a bit of confusion and embarrassment. "Why would I want to trigger my heat?"

"Well, in case you or Bakugo can't wait to have pups."

"It's not like that! Our relationship, I mean!" The green haired omega turns completely red suddenly. "We're just friends!"

"Right. Sure." Jiro nods, looking at him with curiosity and amusement.

"Here, take this back," Izuku gives her the red one. "I won't need it."

It's weird that she seems to think Katsuki and him are together; based on what Chisaki told him, the King has better options to get mated to.

Maybe Izuku is ruining Katsuki's opportunities by living with him. He'll have to talk to him about that later. The alpha has done a lot for him already, Izuku is not going to cause him anymore problems.

"Well, I live in that house over there in case you change your mind," Jiro says, pointing at a small house at the end of the street. "Also, we'll be going to a small town a few miles from here next week, in case you want to go. There's a witch there who's a friend of mine. I think you'll like her."

"A witch?" Izuku's eyes immediately glimmer with excitement. "I'd love to go!"

Maybe he can ask this witch about the potion Chisaki took. There could be a way to break the curse and return to his village to see if All Might is back in his house.

It won't hurt to ask.

***

Next-->

Patreon

#mha fantasy au #mha #bnha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #izuku midoriya

36 notes · View notes