#camp oasis au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ihavethedreamies · 7 months ago

Text

Oasis | S.Coups

Choi Seungcheol (S.Coups - Seventeen)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: S.Coups x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Violence (mentions of weapons, but nothing else), Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Princess, Pumpkin, etc.), Daddy Kink (as required by law), Swearing, Kissing, Thigh-Riding, Cockwarming, Couch Sex, Slight Breathplay, Soft Dom! S.Coups, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), He's got some ~fancy~ tattoos ;)

Author's Note: Okay this one was…normally I can stay calm writing, but not for a Scoops. He's just so fucking hot…

-> Series Hub <-

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

The only problem with being in a small village in the middle of the desert is there were very few places to hide. You turned a corner around a sandstone building into an alleyway. Luckily, there was a pile of crates with a small enough hole for you to hide. Crawling into the space, you tried to stay as quiet as possible while also catching your breath. You worried your panting would be too loud. You clutched your bag close to you, not wanting to lose the contents again. Having found what seems to be an extremely valuable artifact, you had tried desperately to get it back after it had been stolen. You had reported the chunk of crystal to the Assembly and they said it was possibly valuable enough to bring to headquarters. Though, while you were camping out, about a third of the way through a four-day journey, your camp was ransacked, and your crystal stolen. You followed the thieves that turned out to essentially be a gang, and you took it back. They had found you though and had been chasing you for a good hour. They obviously understood the crystal's value if they were pursuing you so intently. Peaking around the crates, you saw a few of the goons run down the street past the alley, but you weren't brave enough to get away yet.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, a hand having grabbed your braid at the base, hauling you out of your hiding hole. Your hands grappled at his, trying to get him to let you go, legs scrambling on the ground.

"You stupid bitch-" He grumbled, yanking your hair harder till you fell back against his legs.

"Where's the rock?" He snapped and you just glared up at him, not wanting him to realize if you looked at your bag. You grunted at the tug on your hair, but immediately stopped wiggling when you felt something metal press against your neck.

"If I get this back from you, the boss might just promote me-"

"Kind of hard to get a promotion with an extra hole in your head." A new voice spoke and you could feel the gangster freeze behind you, the knife pressed to your neck retreating slightly. You assumed this new man had pressed his own weapon, a blaster most likely, against the guy's head.

"Drop the knife." This new man's voice was steady, strong, and you felt safe already. You heard the blade clatter on the ground, and the hold on your braid released, so you scrambled away from the gangster. Instead of going forward, you basically crawled around and behind the aggressor, and stopped once you were safely behind your rescuer. Just from behind, you could tell he was strong, his bare arms showed his biceps were nearly as big as your thigh, maybe bigger. Smooth geometric tattoos painted his arms, looking similar to a circuit board. His hair was bright red, slicked back just enough to keep the longer strands out of his face, the ends resting just above his shoulders. He had a belt strapped around his torso over his vest, various things attached to it along with several ammo cartridges. Another strap around one of his thick thighs had the holster for his blaster and his pants were tucked into a pair of knee-high combat boots.

"Now screw off before you can't." The man pulled his blaster away, but literally kicked the guy's ass, sending him onto his face a few feet forward. The gangster scrambled to his feet and fled. Once he was gone, the man before you turned around finally and your breath left you right after you had caught it back. He was fucking gorgeous. You wondered if the slit in his eyebrow was from a scar, or just for looks, it was hard to tell in the dark light.

"Are you okay, doll?" He kneeled in front of you, even like that you felt tiny…Tinier than usual. You wondered if he could see your reddened face in the low light.

"Y-yes." You nodded, letting him wrap his hands around your arms to help you stand up. Your own hands went to his biceps, trying hard not to squeeze to test the muscle there, and your shaking legs finally got you up. You wished he didn't have the leather gloves on so you could feel more of his bare skin on yours. After you were both up, the top of your head only reached his chin, and he smelled good-

"Why were they after you?" he asked and you had to step back to look at him even with your head tipped up.

"Uh…" You weren’t sure if he was trustworthy, even if he saved you. Maybe he just wanted the crystal for himself…

"It's okay, doll. I'm a Ranger." He pulled the chain around his neck up and out of his shirt, an upside-down triangle-like designed pendant on the end. You recognized it, and the title, so you relaxed. They were basically freelance, vigilante, bounty-hunter guys. They would help people in need and take out or get criminals without having to worry about legal red tape. It was an elite group, and their identities were not widely known. Sighing in relief at the news, you opened your satchel and pulled the crystal out. It wasn't refined and it was pretty heavy. You handed the rock to him and he looked it over, holding it easily with one hand while he holstered his blaster. The thin but tight black shirt he had on under his utility vest struggled over his chest as he did so, when he spoke you finally brought your attention away.

"This is a diamond, doll." He smiled and your jaw dropped. No wonder it was so valuable. That would make sense why the Assembly Headquarters wanted it, they had the largest bank on the planet.

"Seriously?"

"Yep." He once again held the gem in one hand, pulling a device out of a pocket of his utility belt. The Ranger clicked the end against the gem and looked at the panel on the side as the device beeped.

"About 13 hundred carats." He smirked, arching one of his thick eyebrows.

"Where'd you find this?"

"I'm a Scavenger, so I look for scrap and crashed ships or satellites. This was in some wreckage out near Dekkos." you told him, a bit surprised he handed the gem back to you.

"Are you bringing it to the capital?"

"Yes."

"You will probably have more of those gangsters plus anyone else who finds out after you, why don't I escort you?"

"You would do that?"

"Of course, doll. I'm Seungcheol, but my team calls me S.Coups."

"S.Coups?" you questioned and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed.

"Uh, the S is for Seungcheol, and then coups like coup-d'état."

"You overthrow someone?"

"Well, kind of. Our first mission was to get a corrupt mayor out of power, so…" He smiled, somehow his extremely handsome face looked cute.

"Are you sure you don't mind escorting me?"

"I told you," he leaned forward so he was more eye level, "of course I don't mind."

"Can I call you Cheol?" you asked him, his name was kind of long and you weren't sure about his nick name…

"Of course, doll. What do I call you?" You told him your name in response and when he said it with a smile, your ovaries exploded.

"I know its late, but I was planning on getting to the next town over, it's about an hour, is that okay?" he asked you as you followed him to the main street and toward the edge of the village. You had wrapped the diamond up in a head scarf you had and tucked it back in your satchel. Cheol suggested you grab your stuff from your rover and leave it for the time being, since more goons might know it's yours. He wouldn't even let you carry your own bag.

"That diamond is enough for you to carry, (Y/N)." When you got to his own rover, you halted in shock. Not only was it new, but it was a really nice model too. Yours was nearly thirty years old and was not exactly top of the line, even new.

"Oh, this belongs to the whole group. I just have it most of the time since I'm the leader."

"You're the leader?" You hadn't known that.

"Well, kind of. I'm co-commander along with Woozi." He opened the passenger door for you and you climbed up onto the wheel and into the rover. The seats were nice, and actually seats versus what looked like a restaurant booth. The inside panels were just a flat holo-screen, and it even had heating. Your rover only had air-conditioning, so at night it could be kind of cold. You asked him a series of questions as you drove to the next town, and he answered each one humbly. Your eyes kept flitting to his hands on the steering wheel, then up his arms and traced every line of his tattoos, to his side profile-

"Your eyes might burn me, doll." He tried not to smirk, casting you a knowing side glance. You floundered for an excuse.

"Its fine, sweetheart." Seungcheol rested back in the seat and you shuffled in your own seat, your face not the only part of you heating up. By the time you reached the next town, all you wanted to do was get in bed, and maybe get him inside you…

"Do you mind sharing a hotel room, I can keep you safer that way." His suggestion was genuine, truly just wanting to protect you. And you were more than willing.

"That's fine!" Seungcheol smirked, walking past you into the hotel, one much nicer than the inns or motels you usually stayed at. You cringed at your own eagerness, following after him with your head bowed in embarrassment.

"Can we get a suite with two bedrooms?" He pulled his credit chit out, the hotelier tapped on her console telling you there was one available on the fifth floor. You watched her as she worked, and she kept looking up at Seungcheol and all over him. She wasn't blind, you didn’t blame her. He took the room and you balked at the price.

"Don't worry, doll." He cast you a gentle smile, so you didn't. Judging by his rover, even if he claimed it was the whole group's, he had money to spare. You followed after him, casting a glance back at the hotelier who was glaring at you. Wanting to stick your tongue out at her like a child, you restrained yourself and waited for the elevator with him. Right as the lift was reaching the ground floor, a group of about seven entered and headed toward the elevators as well. Because of this, the lift was full, and you pressed your small self into the corner, Seungcheol working as a barrier between you and the group of men that had entered as well. You doubted they even knew you were there. They had left the button pressed for the fifth floor, and you both waited for them to get out, then headed in the opposite direction. He tapped the clear card against the lock and it dinged, opening with a click. He carried both of your bags in and you looked around the suite in awe, never having stayed somewhere so nice.

"I'm going to shower quick." Seungcheol deposited your bag in one of the bedrooms and headed toward the other. There was a bathroom attached to each room and so you followed suit. Only taking a rinse off since you had showered the night before, you found yourself watching some show on the couch. You had changed into shorts and a tank instead of your leather leggings and vest. Your knees were pulled to your chest, feet resting on the cushion, and you were really trying to focus on the show. It was so hard though to not think of him in the shower. He was too freaking hot and there was only a door in between you and him. Naked.

"Fucking fuck…" You huffed at yourself, trying to snap out of your pervy thoughts, but it was futile. Especially since he had just come out in nothing but his pants. At least he wasn't just in a towel, but his muscular and toned body was perfectly on display. He had more of the circuit-like tattoos curling up over his shoulders and down his chest and sides of his stomach. You had noticed earlier not only were his arms and thighs thick, but he had a butt too. Fuck. He saw you gaping at him, it was kind of hard not to. It was like you had zoned out…or in rather, on him and he huffed a laugh, a bit embarrassed. However, he felt more smug than anything and his own eyes flicked over your mostly bare legs and the low cut of your tank. He would be lying if he said he wasn't just as attracted to you as you seemed to be to him. It was up to you make a move though… When you snapped out of it and your eyes met his, he was smirking and hummed with an inquisitive tone.

"Yes?" He teased and you choked on your saliva some, eyes flitting back over his bare chest.

"You curious?" You nodded dumbly.

"Come here, then." Seungcheol smiled and he nearly guffawed at how fast you leaped off the couch, but you approached much slower. You stopped right before him, hand coming up and hovering over his skin. You flitted your gaze up to his face and he nodded, taking a sip out of the bottle he was holding. As soon as your fingertips met his warm skin, the other hand flew up and you brought them down to rest on his abs.

"Fucking hell." You whispered and he really tried not to laugh, but you could feel his chest rumble a bit. Tracing each curve and angle of the tattoos snaking over him, you noticed they seemed to let out a slight reddish glow, lagging behind your tracing fingers over the black lines. Your mouth was hung open as you touched him like he was the best thing you had ever had the pleasure of touching, and he smirked harder. Getting annoyed with his smugness, even though it was warranted and caused by you, you dug your dull nails in a bit and scratched down. Seungcheol sighed, a low groan rumbling out after and your cunt clenched around nothing.

"What-?!" You squeaked as he crouched a bit, wrapping one around your upper thighs under your butt, and easily lifted you up against his shoulder. He carried you over to the couch, his bottle still in his hand and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding. He could probably also feel your wet leaking through your panties and shorts. You glanced down and saw that the tattoos were on his back too. The man sat on the couch, adjusting you on his lap so you were straddling one of his thighs. You nearly whined, having to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate, and you could feel the hard muscle through his pants. While they weren't super tight, with how he was sitting, the stretched over his thigh just right. He smirked again as he took another drink, your shorts so thin he could feel your pussy clench as you settled.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, doll?" Your fingers were lazily and lightly rubbing over his skin, it tickled a bit. Those tattoos definitely shimmered when you touched them…

"Can I ride your thigh?" Your voice was so soft that despite how close you were, he almost didn't hear you.

"You want that, sweetheart?"

"Yes, -dy." He barely heard the last part, your face blossoming red when you let the word slip, eyes widening in panic. Seungcheol groaned when he heard it, adjusting his footing and bounced his leg under you a bit, forcing it up and against your needy cunt.

"You wanna ride daddy's thigh, pumpkin?"

"Fuck, yes please~" You gasped, but held back from moving, nodding.

"Go ahead, then." He took a casual sip from the bottle, glancing over your shoulder at the TV like he was actually focusing on it. He licked his lips, swallowing a chuckle when you began to grind down onto his leg, so hard he felt your pulse from your core. Your little mewls grew louder when you leaned forward, losing strength in the rest of your body, resting your forehead on his collarbone. Your fingers dug into the waist of his pants on either side of you, getting closer and closer. While Cheol had his number of sexcapades, he had never had a girl be this eager to fuck herself on his leg. Most of the time he was worried if they would find out he didn't, by any means, mind getting called daddy. You were the first one though to jump on it immediately, and with no hint or prompting from him. He was thanking fate that he was the one that rescued you.

"I'm-" You gasped, your hips stuttering.

"Close, pumpkin?" He finally put the bottle down, his arm curling around your waist, helping you keep your rhythm. His face got close to yours, so much so your lips were barely touching and he swallowed your moan, invading your mouth with his tongue. You fell apart then, whining as he helped you ride out your high, catching every little noise you made with his lips. Your head was swimming, you nearly gasped for air when he left the kiss. Your panties were sticking to your even wetter folds, and he could feel that your slick had soaked through his pants too.

"Did a good job, sweetheart."

"Thanks, daddy." It seemed you were a bit shy with the daddy-kink play, but you had started it.

"What now, doll?" Your eyes met his, unsure with what answer he wanted.

"What do you want me to do to you now?" He arched a brow and your mind ran rampant with all the possibilities.

"W-what do you want to do?" You threw the question back and he tilted his head in thought, humming. You could feel that his cock had gotten hard against your knee, your mouth watered when you glanced down at the tent pitched, wondering just how big he really was.

"What if…" As he spoke, his hand drifted from your hip, over your ass, and into the back of your shorts. You moaned when his fingers hit your soaking cunt, lightly circling the pad over your entrance.

"…you sit on my cock and we watch a movie?" His suggestion took you a second to piece together. Cockwarming? Fuck, yes PLEASE.

"O-okay." You nodded and his hand withdrew. He easily moved you to turn around and assisted with getting your shorts and panties off. Cheol adjusted his position and you rested against his chest, reaching down to release his cock from his pants. Your eyes widened, breath hitching when your hand met the flesh, finally getting him out to see what you had to work with. You were going to get split in half, and you couldn't be more excited.

"Daddy~" You whined, head falling back onto his shoulder, your nose brushing over the side of his throat.

"Can you take it, pumpkin?" He stroked the soft skin under your belly button, the sensation made you shiver, already sensitive.

"Yes."

"Yes…?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." You sat up a bit more, propping your hips up as he guided the tip of his fat cock to your glistening folds. A bit concerned when you let out a small choking noise, it soon faded into a moan, which rose into a whine as he sank deeper and deeper. You thought he would be in your throat by the time he was all the way in. Your tight core fluttered around his cock, the delicious burn of the stretch bringing you dangerously close to another orgasm already. When he had about another inch to go, you lost your strength. You slumped back into him, gravity pulling you the rest of the way done so his cock buried in completely. Your cunt twitched along with the rest of you, trying to adjust to the stretch and the intense pleasure it caused. If you were already so sensitive, he wondered how bad you would get after sitting on his cock for a good hour.

"Hm, so good, sweetheart. Taking daddy's cock like a pro." His groan rumbled through him and over you, his strong arms wrapping over you to hold you up and to him. After about five minutes, your brain started to function a bit more, and you tried to get more comfortable on his lap as he started something you really cared not for. It wasn't what the movie was, but you could only think of him splitting you open and his bare chest pressed to your back. You had your legs spread wide over his lap, knees over his so he could easily hold them open for you. Every few minutes, your whole body twitched from the pleasure, your breath shuddering, trying not to move. You really were a princess, more like a queen, taking his huge cock so good and sitting still so obediently. He had to push away the thought of immediately taking you as his wife, but man did he want to. Have you whenever he wanted…

"D-daddy…!" You gasped, cunt clenching hard suddenly and he huffed as you came, not having moved for the last half hour. He wondered how that was possible, and so did you. Seungcheol had to be a drug itself, because you were already addicted. You needed him so bad-

"Fuck, hold on…" He grunted, shutting the TV off and wrapping his arms around you tighter, hand on your opposite hip and the other across your chest so his hand could rest under your jaw. He splayed his legs better, sliding down the couch a bit to get better leverage, and your nails quickly dug into the back of the couch to prepare. He gave a shallow but hard thrust and you squealed, releasing babbles as he fucked up into you. Each thrust shattered pleasure through your body, his skin getting hotter against yours. Moreso than was natural, and you realized you could feel the pattern of the marks covering his torso with the heat. They must have been some kind of cybernetics…

"Want more, princess?" He rumbled and you whined an affirmation, his thrusts still hard but too shallow. You didn’t want to be able to walk the next three days… The hand he had on your hip shifted so he splayed his fingers over your lower stomach, index and middle fingers resting in a V right around where he had his cock inside of you. His other hand your jaw moved down to your collarbone, lying over the top of your chest, his pinky slightly under the hem of your tank. The heat of his tattoos increased, and suddenly it was like every one of your nerves was set on fire. He froze his pace, grunting as your cunt clenched harder as you came again already, soaking down his balls and over his pants. He chuckled as your core pulsed over and over, seeming to never end. You nearly blacked out, gasping for breath and wondering what the hell that was.

"W-what?"

"I can use these to affect the nerves of people. I use it to knock out targets, or to ease the pain of someone I’m helping. Can make you real sensitive…" He hummed by your ear, his teeth nibbling on the ridge.

"Where do you want daddy to fuck you next, doll?" You nearly didn't register his question, still trying to find your place in reality.

"Bed…" You knew it was cliché, but…

"Of course, sweetheart." He sat all the way up, the position change shifting him inside you and you gasped, whining in disappointment as he pulled you off his cock. Just as easily as he lifted you before, you carried you to his room, grabbing the end of the duvet and easily pulling the whole thing off, letting it float to the floor. Resting you down like you were as delicate as a flower, you sighed at the cool fabric hitting your back. Seungcheol kissed the corner of your mouth, and you tried to follow his lips, but they left yours, moving down your jaw and to your neck. Letting him move you, he brought on of your thighs to his hip, slinging your other knee over his elbow. Your cunt eagerly sucked his cock back inside and you whimpered as he slowly bottomed out. Giving you just a second to adjust, he leaned down and kissed you again. You mewled, your knee resting over his shoulder more than his elbow, the other leg wrapping over his hip as tight as you could manage. A trail of saliva connected your lips when he finally pulled his tongue out of your mouth.

"Ready, pumpkin?"

"Yes, daddy!" You squeaked in delight as he started to move, immediately barreling his fat cock into you, the head battering your cervix. His pace was so intense, your wet dripped over his groin and down your butt to land on the sheets. It must have been an extremely secure bed frame, because it only shifted a bit despite his powerful thrusts. You couldn't even make little noises, your mouth hung open in a silent moan, drool spilling out of the corner of your mouth. You were so fucked out and he wanted to keep you like that from then on. Always drunk on him…

"So fucking good…" He chuckled, hand gripping your leg at his hip, easily slinging your other leg over his shoulder, folding you in half. You saw stars, the first thrust at the new angle fucked another climax out of you, your cunt squirting and creaming his cock even more and he grunted at the tightness. His tattoos started to heat up again, you could feel the change on the back of your thighs where he pressed down into you. Not sure what sensation he was going to surge you into, you couldn't get ready. The same intense arousal sensitivity started to rise again, but something else hit you. A slight tightening at your neck, but his hands were nowhere near. It was very slight and it didn't restrict your oxygen at all, just giving you a dull squeeze in the best way. Your gasps were from the intensity of your pleasure rather than the press of your throat. Then, your senses shifted, your vision blurred and it seemed like you could only hear the woosh of your pulse and his grunts. You felt his skin on yours hotter than before, his cock seemed hotter too, and the scent of sex intensified. When his mouth went back to yours, it was like you could taste his tongue, taste him even more and his groan vibrated your tongue wrapped around his. Without warning, the heat spiked, and your eyes rolled back in your head. His hot cum pumped into you, your own final orgasm hitting you, rolling over and over, dulling before reigniting into another full climax. The heat of his cum spilling out from where he was inside you seemed to sear over your skin and when he had stopped, your senses returned to normal and it was like someone threw cold water on you. Your hearing returned to normal, and you could hear the noise of the street again. You finally registered that he had pulled away from the kiss, hovering over you with a smile. Not a smirk. You could barely get anything out but a whine.

"Did daddy fuck you good, doll?" You nodded lazily and he laughed, kissing you again.

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

215 notes · View notes

afterartist · 2 months ago

Text

HELICALTALE MAIN CAST LINEUP!!

(Not ll of the characters but the most important ones to the plot)

‘And now: AU Infodump

BUT BEFORE ANYTHING!!

I will be answering any questions (within reason) any of you have about the au, even if it’s about some random side character only three people have ever heard of before

I live world building and any chance to expand on this world are treasured

I’ll probably answer with fun little doodles as well lol

So ask away :D!!

Basic AU overview:

Helicaltale is NOT a classic based Timeline.

The AU is set in a world where Mt Ebott was destroyed during the war, leaving a desert crater in its place, no protection for the Monsters to retreat and nowhere to seal them underground. In response, the Human mages put a spell on Monster kind, ‘Helios’ Curse’, forcing them to be unable to touch sunlight or else they’d burn (think Vampires or Minecraft Mobs)

The main story takes place 87 years after the war ended and 29 years after friendly communications between the two races begun, with the Monsters settled in a camp like city, made of tents and canvas buildings, around the oasis that formed in the desert that was now known as Ebott crater. Humans and Monsters have achieved peace between the races, regular trading routes and communications set up between the two cities.

Now all that was left was for both Humans and Monsters to find a way to break Helios’ Curse for good.

(None of them can touch Sunlight (minus the humans) but the ones more lightly dressed (Gaster, Alphys, Asgore) all live in the city, with proper buildings not at risk of being blown over at any second so can afford to not be covered up 100% of the time)

Locations:

Ebott City-

The capital city of the country, Ebott is a massive human settlement, overshadowing old ruins left by the war. It’s currently the main base of conferences between human and monster relations.

The Oasis-

The Monster settlement, made from tents and interconnecting canvas sheets, from above it looks like a colourful cluster of a campground, large sheets stretched over the streets. From within it’s only lit by lamps and magic, the sky completely blocked out by tarps and canvas to avoid accidentally getting burned by sunlight, to those not familiar with the city it’s a labyrinth, others, its home.

(A major inspiration for the Oasis is the Kowloon walled city, for those interested in a more accurate visual of the Oasis)

The Great Fence-

While the name conveys grandeur, the fence is a simple chain link fence acting as the border around the entire Oasis, topped with barbed wire and adorned with tarps, it’s designed to protect the residents against wild animals like Coyotes and be a barrier against sandstorms more than it is to keep people out, one of the most regular jobs for the Royal guard other than being general peace keepers is to uphold the fence, often sending patrols out after heavy storms to keep everything in order.

Central Oasis-

A mix between Newhome and Waterfall, it’s the main hub of the town, the Royal family living there along with the majority of schools and recreational areas, most Water based monsters (ie: Shyren, Aaron ect ect) also live in this area, a large lake of water being the centerpiece of the city.

Lights district-

To the west side of the city is the main shopping hub, while much more open than the majority of the Oasis, many stores foregoing walls on their tents entirely, its full of stores and restaurants, the most well known being Grillby’s and Muffets joint restaurant, many visitors to the Oasis come for the night life of the lights district, the monsters that live in that area making the camp around them as flashy and attractive as possible, neon lights and dancing flames lighting up the darkness of the district, the Celebrities Mettaton and Nabstablook have also been alluded to frequent the region and perform for onlookers.

Sandbank-

The Snowden equivalent of the AU, having gotten its name due to its position at the east side of the city, being the least protected by the walls of the crater, Sandbank often gets the brunt of the sandstorms that hit the desert, leading many of the Royal Guards live in this area in case of an emergency during the storms.

Southside (the Black Market)-

Technically not its official name, the Southside of the Oasis is whispered about in the dark of night, rumours telling of an illegal market place and shady monsters working in the south, many a monster wandering in and never coming out. While most likely just old wives tales, its best you keep your distance, just in case.

(Yeah I made the Black Market an actual real marketplace because that will never not be funny to me)

Hotlands-

The north most section of the Oasis is best known as Hotlands, given the name as it’s the highest section of city but also the most shielded by the crater walls, leaving it boiling without any wind to seep out the heat’. There’s been speculation that Hotlands actually sits over an underground chamber of magma, adding to the blistering temperature.

Characters:

The Dreemurrs:

Frisk- (Any Pronouns)

Frisk is an 11 year old kid, a runaway from one of Ebott City’s Orphanages, known for its less than legal treatment of the children. Having joined Chara as the eldest helped them both escape, Frisk followed Chara into the desert, looking for shelter from CPS.

During the trek however Frisk falls sick with an illness, most common in Monsters but able to infect anyone with strong magic, called Icarus syndrome.

With Icarus syndrome being effectively Hyperthermia of the soul, any physical treatment is ineffective, needing a particular medication to have any hope of survival, leaving the crater as not just refuge but possibly their only chance of survival.

Chara- (They/Them)

Chara is 16 and the orchestrator of the escape from the Orphanage with Frisk, after having been in contact online with a kid from the Monster camp that offered assistance. During the escape Frisk fell ill, forcing Chara to locate and purchase the rare medicine. Ending up in the Monster equivalent of the black market, Chara found a monster begrudgingly willing to help, trading a magical glass eye, a prosthetic their grandfather made for both humans and monsters during the war, for a small vial of medicine. The trader warning them to keep out of the black market before dropping the two kids off safely at the center of the Oasis.

Asriel- (He/Him)

Asriel is the firstborn son of the Dreemurrs and heir to the Royal throne, at 16 he made contact and became friends with a kid online, the other telling him of the danger they and their sibling were in at the Orphanage. Quickly offering up his home, knowing both his parents had fostered and cared for many children in the past and wouldn’t turn away two more. Upon meeting them in the Oasis he makes fast friends with both Frisk and Chara, practically adopting them as siblings on the spot.

Toriel- (She/Her)

Queen of the Oasis at 143 years old, Toriel has seen her fair share of bloodshed and peacetime, giving her the knowledge to recognise that protecting young children is the best way to ensure their future, guiding them to Mercy and pragmatic solutions instead of Fighting. One of the first things she did after Monsters had finally settled into the Oasis being starting up a school, becoming the primary teacher for a good few years before other parents eventually began to join her staff. Though, with the two new children her son had brought to her doorstep, she’s begun to realise it’s not just the children of Monster kind that need protection.

Asgore- (He/Him)

King of the Oasis and 146 years old, Asgore grew up at the front lines of the war, the heinous acts shaping him into the pacifist he is today. Currently away from the Oasis, Asgore has turned his sights on communications with the Humans, staying at the city while conferences with the city leaders on trade routes and transportation commence. He is also overseeing the Monster half of the Science team, working closely with the Royal Advisor and Scientists Gaster in developing a cure to Helios’ Curse. He remains in frequent contact with the Oasis, making the trip back every weekend to see his now growing family and make sure Toriel isn’t overwhelmed with responsibilities.

The Fonts:

Dr. Gaster- (He/Him)

At 140, Gaster has spent his life developing weapons for war (the Gaster Blaster being his pride and joy) and perseverance for Monster Kind, having a massive distaste for all Humans and most Monsters. The sudden change from war efforts to restoration efforts throwing his life in disarray. Jumping at the chance to use Human equipment on government funded experiments, Gaster didn’t hesitate to leave his sons Sans and Papyrus (9 and 4 at the time) back at the Oasis to move to the city and begin work. He’s had a hand in creating many inventions helping Monster kind (both helping with the medicine for Icarus Syndrome and a magic Sunscreen that can briefly minimise the effects of the sun) and the head of the Selene Project, the project to break the curse.

Sans- (He/Him)

28 and thriving, Sans has made a name for himself as both the comedic slacker of the Royal guard and the savvy businessman as one of the Black Markets best traders. Having been forced to raise both himself and Papyrus from a young age, Sans became intwined with the black market at the age of 12, after Papyrus caught Icarus Syndrome and receiving no help from Gaster off in the city, Sans was forced to find his own way of getting medication. At the age of 12 he found his way into the black market, ending up trading his right eye, and subsequently some of his shortcut abilities with an underground doctor in exchange for the medicine, to this day he hasn’t told anyone what happened to his eye. From then on he found himself going back and getting into trading as a way of making money as a side job while both he and Papyrus worked to get into the Royal guard, quickly becoming infamous in the criminal world of the Oasis, though he had a rule that no kids were to ever be found trading in the market. A rule that quickly got broken when a young human kid stumbled into his shop, begging for help, offering a magic glass eye as payment. Unable to send the kid off without help (or turn down the irony of selling the meds for an eye) he made the trade before guiding the kid and their sibling to the Oasis center.

(Bonus:)

After dropping the kids off, Sans makes an attempt to use the prosthetic eye, yet upon fitting it into his socket, the magic activated and bonded with his soul, causing the eye to become fused with his being, immovable. Along with the eye he’s suddenly able to see things he, by all means, should NOT be able to see, including text bubbles from the creators (similar to error sans)

He also finds, magically in his pocket, a small golden key, only figuring out its use after stumbling across a door in the middle of nowhere, upon using the key on the door he finds himself in an entirely different AU, door closing and disappearing behind him.

This is what leads him to discover the Multiverse and travel between AUs (inconveniently ending up in Nightmares Castle more times than he’d care to count)

Papyrus- (He/Him)

The Great Papyrus, second in command of the Royal guard at the younge age of 23 (you may applaud now)

Having grown up with just himself and Sans, Papyrus always wanted to become something great to make his brother proud, despite Sans’ insistence that he’s already proud of him. When he was 13, while Sans was out getting food, Papyrus had been targeted and hunted down by a group of bullies from the Southside of town, the group of teens taking turns in beating him up, eventually escalating to the point where one of them pulled a mirror from their pocket and used it to reflect a beam of sun directly onto his face, leaving a permanent scar,

He was saved however, when a teen he recognised from the Oasis center came charging out from one of the nearby tents, picking up handfuls of sand and hurtling it at the other kids before beating them up with her fists alone. Once over, the girl had turned, helped Papyrus up and took him to see her grandfather, the current head of the Royal Guard, a job she loudly proclaimed she was going to have one day,

Ever since then he attempted and eventually got into the Royal guard, along with Sans and the teen, Undyne.

Gersons:

Undyne- (She/Her)

29, Captain of the Royal Guard, Wife of the best woman around, living the high life! Having been raised by her grandfather Gerson for longer than she could remember, she’s always looked up to the Royal Guard, no matter how her Grandfather told her it wasn’t all glory. She’d been sneaking out and training with one of the Royal Guards for 8 years by the time she was 19, stumbling across a fight, six of her classmates beating down on a young skeleton. She’d jumped to defense before she’d even registered it, helping the kid up and getting him patched up where eventually the kids brother, Sans, one of Alphys’ friends found them and thanked her profusely.

The three became fast friends, practically siblings, both of them there at her and Alphys’ wedding and her promotion to Captain of the Royal guard.

Alphys- (She/They)

27 and already one of the best Scientists in the whole country. Alphys’ having grown up in Hotlands would have never dared to dream she’d be working with a whole team of like minded scientists, especially not in the human city, though not being able to see her Wife as often was a dampener. Dr. Gaster was also a bit, overzealous, with the project, it was only a matter of time before the madman created some temporal superflux that blew up half the block, even if she wouldn’t be anywhere near as prestigious without his guidance, despite Sans’ reservations for letting them near him.

(I will be adding more to this AU btw, it’s in my top 3 faves lmao)

Bonus:

Animation I’ve done for Helical Sans to explain how his AU hopping works

74 notes · View notes

weirdworldofwinnie · 1 year ago

Text

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Four: Riding out the Storm

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: Robert and you spend an electrically charged night camping out in the desert on his day off, hoping to rekindle and rebound after a somewhat challenging week.

Word Count: ~4,395

Warnings: Mostly smut (unprotected and oral sex), age gap, anxiety/fear pertaining to thunderstorms

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy, this is essentially AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86

If you'd like to be part of the tag list, let me know.

When the following Sunday came around, you were in far better spirits for your cycle had tapered off and the general mood in town was boosted by many of the scientists, including Robert, who had the day off from working. He had decided on going riding and camping out in the desert tonight for just the two of you and was currently saddling and packing up the horses outside as you came out to join him, getting up on your mare as soon as he was ready to go.

He smiled and kicked his stallion in the flank, trotting fast after you out of the barriers of town and into the desert, where you kept at a steady pace until he caught up beside you, bouncing lightly up and down in the saddle.

"Don't you want to race or are you too afraid to lose?" he called over the rushing wind in your ears and you glanced at him, feeling spurred on by that comment, so you slapped the reins and gave the horse a push to gallop, thundering hard across the land. You looked back over your shoulder with a triumphant laugh as you left him in the dust and his horse was gradually diminishing in sight, a brown blur dotting the expanse.

Eventually, you slowed and he caught up, carefully riding along the edge of a canyon and slowly trailing it for a while, listening to the soft stomps of the horse's hooves and heavy breathing.

"I allowed you to win back there, you know," he commented cockily with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, unimpressed.

"Oh, I'm so honored at your consideration, but I think you're just not acquainted with the prospect of losing."

"Only with you I am," he muttered and you laughed, tossing your head to feel the air and dipping down the trail, gradually winding through pine forests and around boulders, rocky outcroppings, and thoroughly riding for a long while, farther than you'd explored previously and for minutes you wondered if you and him had become truly lost... But then the ground leveled and once out of the rougher areas and into broader flatland, you picked up pace again.

It was all very emotionally beneficial to be out in the open away from town and work, whether it be Robert's or your own housekeeping and studying. Even the socializing was a kind of effort and having time to be just together, hardly talking, out in nature with no obligations until tomorrow was such a microcosmic blessing. The clean air procured a clean mind and the scent on the breeze was a complete refresher from the stale cigarette infused buildings.

You inhaled and exhaled, dismounting the horse and running a hand through your tresses while catching your breath as Robert came up behind you and did similar actions before taking your hand and tugging you to a brushy area with a few shrubs.

"Mind if I relieve myself right here?" he asked, detaching from your hand and loosening his belt, unzipping his fly, and promptly dropping his drawers. You smiled, stepping back and watching him urinate a steady stream straight into the shrub. He glanced at you as you giggled openly at his liquidized "performance" and cast a bit of skepticism.

"You're very immature sometimes. We're married and it's a perfectly normal biological function, I don't see what is so entertaining about it?"

"Did you know yours is the only one I've ever really been exposed to on a regular basis? I've never had another man's so often as yours," you commented and he looked down, flicking before pulling up the pants and tucking it back in with a zip.

"I'm sad to say that you haven't been the only woman I've had the pleasure of being so intimate with." He strode back over to the horses, gently catching your cheek with his fingers along the way, caressing for a second.

"Remember when you took my virginity?" you asked softly and his eyes raked down your body frame, the past flickering in his mind.

"I do quite well; you were such a tight little thing and very nervous, so inexperienced that it took us a few go arounds to loosen you up to me." He smiled fondly, going to tend to his horse by giving him water from one of the canteens.

"How was your very first time?" you asked curiously, for he had never discussed much of his life particularly as a young man coming of age long before he had met you and it was others who had told you more about his mental and emotional difficulties at Cambridge during his time studying abroad for his doctorate. For whatever personal reason, he had always neglected airing his vulnerabilities from that period of his youth in front of you and you saw him glance down now, visibly uneasy.

"It was very unglamorous, I actually cried," he muttered bitterly and you raised your eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Yes, she and I both did. It was shameful, but thankfully that was an awkward phase I grew exponentially out of. Experience is a great teacher, if not occasionally harsh, but I have much better now... I have you and that's a comfort I suppose." He sighed wistfully, tugging on the bridle, patting the stallion's neck and rubbing his fingers through the coarse dark brown mane. You wandered away to relieve yourself as well, finding a more secluded spot and putting an indentation into the dry soil to crouch over and wipe clean with tissues you packed in a bag. By the time you came back, Robert was waiting on his horse and starting to move.

"It'll be getting dark soon, so let's find a site to set up camp not too far off," he announced with a brisk change of attitude and you nodded, going to saddle your own horse and he led the way only a bit further to a clear spot on a hill surrounded by several sprawling bushes and stunted trees on either sides. You helped him with the army grade spacious tent and built a small fire, which kept petering out from the growing gusts of wind and was unlikely to provide much warmth to last the night. You unpacked the two ham and cheese sandwiches you'd brought in the knapsack along, but as usual, he neglected an appetite and resorted to smoking a lone cigarette outside the tent, sitting by himself and staring out at the hills with a deeply pensive expression.

"Do you want one?" you asked of him, but it was as if he never heard you, fixed intently on the skyline.

"Robert, please eat something before we hunker down for the night and stay hydrated, will you? Your mouth will be dryer than a day's ashtray."

You left the sandwich on his lap and went to grab a flask of water, coming back to see he hadn't touched it.

"Eat," you pressed, picking it up and pushing it towards his mouth, causing him to finally - reluctantly - take a bite into it before setting it down again. You took a swig from the flask and watched him just sit there until you grew too frustrated and snatched it off his lap and back into the bag.

"You're worried about me," he muttered quietly and you sighed, nodding.

"I am. Don't lose any more weight, it's frankly scaring me seeing how almost skeletal you've been becoming these past few months. People rely on you here, you can't become too frail and catch sickness."

"My energy levels and functionality are stable."

"Well, I don't know how you do it, but I wish you'd have more than primarily drinks and cigarettes. You ate pretty well when the children were over, couldn't you do more of that? That was the healthiest I've seen you and dare I say happiest?"

He just nodded hesitantly with nothing further and you leaned your head on his shoulder, listening to his rhythms and watching the thickening clouds gathering in the west.

"It looks like rain tonight," you observed and he agreed, pulling you towards the tent.

"We might have quite a show," he said and you automatically tensed.

"Maybe we should head back..." you wondered worriedly, but he shook his head firmly.

"No, no time for that. We stay here and let it roll over. I've weathered storms like this before and once the air cools overnight, it will be bright and fresh as new by dawn."

You closed the tent tightly, checking for any chance of holes or leaks as thunder rumbled distantly and rain began to sprinkle the dusty ground. The tent buffered the blowing wind and you prayed the pegs would be strong enough to hold it down as gusts were making concaves in the fabric and shaking the framework. Lighting the kerosene lantern, you placed it in the corner where it cast black shadows with an orange glow and you shivered, drawing your light jacket closer. You turned around to see Robert unbuttoning his pale blue shirt and fumbling with his belt buckle, fingers twitching anxiously.

"Here? During the storm?" you whispered with a quickly parching dry mouth and he paused in trepidation with his trousers halfway down.

"Why not...? Are you frightened?"

"I hate these storms, we've never stayed out to experience one so close like this, and it's making me very nervous."

"Frank and I have been caught out in worse, calm down. I thought we could have a good time since we've been busy and out here there is no threat of interruptions, so you can be as crazy as you want."

You felt a prick of arousal and you do want him badly, but your nerves were skyrocketing more importantly.

"I'm too stressed," you admitted and he waved his hand dismissively.

"What you're forgetting, though, is that sex can very much be a stress reliever, so I'd be doing you a great favor."

But you pulled your knees up to your chest defensively and he sighed, reluctantly tugging his pants back up to sit at his slim waist. You took another sip of water from the flask and flinched at the first bright flash of lightning, but Robert's blue orbs lit up with excitement and before you could stop him, he unzipped the tent and crawled out, holding his hat to his head.

"Wait, where are you going?!" you gasped, going to peer out cautiously from the opening and you clutched the tent material in your fists, taking breaths to calm your racing heartbeat.

He was standing under the dark sky and tilting his face up to feel the splashing rain assault his skin and soaking his hat completely as the storm began to rage, full of angry gray blackening clouds harboring bolts of heat lightning with subsequent rolling thunder.

"Get inside!" you called, cringing, and he turned back with a grin, gesturing at the sky with a shout.

"Isn't it a marvelously grand natural spectacle?!"

You couldn't disagree, for it was in a frightening way, but you also saw it was rolling almost right overhead and the lightning was strobing at a wincing frequency with thunder booming, making your teeth rattle and you could feel the vibration in your chest. This was terribly dangerous.

"Robert, get in here now!" you nearly screamed and finally he walked back to the tent, crouching down and folding his body inside, quickly closing the entrance up behind him. You pulled off his wet hat and flung it to a corner as he smiled, nearly giddy, and you were not the least bit comforted.

"I really don't like this," you whimpered and his ecstatic energy faded, coming close to cup your face as you laid down on the sleeping bag, closing your eyes and shaking at the continuously booms. He removed the rest of his clothing and you grabbed his shirt, which smelled of pungent tobacco and sweat, to wrap tightly around yourself as he tossed the trousers away to the side and was now only in his boxers.

"Let me distract you," he breathed, but you were as tightly wound as a coiled hose and he leaned back, breathing with anticipation as the lightning cracked across the sky outside.

You watched his bare chest rising and falling, his boxers pressed for containment of his already erecting cock and the more you stared at it, the less rigid you began to feel and a feverish heat struck you, beginning to make you moisten, so you threw off his shirt and quickly unbuttoned your blouse, stripping it off and sliding your riding pants down to expose the dainty band of white underwear teasing out from your waist.

"Robert, touch me," you suddenly urged as he looked on with an obvious ache.

"I'd be glad to," he replied in a whisper, scooting over to lean in and help remove the bra, fingers grazing over your supple flesh until you were exposed, nipples hardened with blood. He slipped a hand down to your panties and jerked them down, carefully sliding them down your legs with the light force of surgical precision, until eventually you were left completely naked on the sleeping bag, still quivering slightly. He gently caressed your body length from neck to ankles and hummed a tune in an effort to calm you. Another crash of thunder made you jolt, but he came down on top and kissed you with impressionable impact, crushing his tongue into yours and smooshing his nose against your face, swirling tongues. You whimpered and panting, he pulled away abruptly as your arms reached out, groping at a bag nearby.

"What is it?" he asked, bringing it closer and you dug in a side pocket to find the spearmint chewing gum you kept on hand for situations without toothpaste, handing him a stick and one for yourself.

"Ah, I see." He popped it in his mouth and chewed fast before spitting it out and you did the same, satisfied enough. You then dug your fingers into his clipped hair, feeling every bristly inch of his scalp and neck.

"I need you," you breathed seductively with much desperation.

"I do more," he whispered back, going to meet your mouth again (he tasted deliciously of mint and he licked off the accumulating drool drizzling out the corner of your bottom lip) and then you pressed your forehead to his, goosebumps peppering up your arms with anticipation and excitement. He cupped your breasts with his palms and rolled his thumbs over your stiff nipples, surprising you when he tweaked them between two fingers and a whine escaped, giving away any reservations. You sat up and pulled him close, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his lean midriff while nuzzling into his neck and ear, making his breathing quicken and he murmured sweet nothings to your hair, cradling the back of your neck with one hand and the other resting under your bottom, lightly squeezing your ass cheeks, and you squirmed restlessly around his crotch, barely listening to the storm outside. You closed your eyes shut tightly, dulling the occasional flashing illuminating the tent and he moved his hands down to his boxers, ridding himself free and he sprung out against your stomach, the head dripping in warm, gooey pre-cum.

"Do you want a taste?" he breathed lowly and you nodded, blindly moving down and feeling his body until you came to his cock and you gripped the shaft, bringing it to your lips and suckling on the end, swallowing his fluids as if it were nourishment and he shuddered with the action of you taking him orally, struggling to control his own impulses. You pulled out, tongue raking over his swollen member and the indigo veins pulsating with rushing blood. He groaned, so close, and you pulled back to fondle his balls, delicately compressing teasingly.

"Don't hit top so fast," you chastised as he flexed, dangerously near to squirting.

"Then you will have to stop touching altogether," he gasped, face pinkening with the strenuous effort of holding back.

"Then do me, darling... Bring me to where you are," you coaxed, shifting position so he could access your vagina, which was creating pockets of natural lubricant swelling at the lips in anticipation. The rain pattered the tent and his finger wormed into your opening, exploring and your walls enveloped it, making him smile at your high pitching whimpers.

"So easy... You don't even need me entirely," he whispered in observance.

"Oh, but I do..." you moaned, getting closer to where you wanted to be and he jammed up another finger, making you twitch instinctively and writhe with heat.

"Robert, no, I can't stop it - I-I'm gonna-"

"Go on, then," he ordered and you squealed in overloading pleasure, grinding with his hand.

"That's a girl, that's my love," he whispered in praise and your back arched, a muscle spasming in your foot as he slowly removed his fingers, wiping them on your vaginal opening, smearing cum all over the skin.

"Now it's my turn," he murmured, his weight that was hardly over 125 pounds hovering onto you, arms down behind your head as he went in to align and thrusted his hips as fast as he could without piercing you too painfully. All too shortly, he grunted and his semen spit into your cervix, filling you up and you clenched before swiftly pushing him back to the sleeping bag, rolling with him in the fabric to come out on top, letting his cock join your pussy and you rocked with him, jumping slightly at another loud clap of thunder, but the pleasure was more pressing than whatever Mother Nature was displaying outside and minutes later, you internally exploded into euphoria overtaking every other function of your being, yelping as loudly as possible and desperately clinging, digging, into his shoulder blades.

"Fuck, it feels so gooood..." you moaned, riding the waves of arousal cresting and ebbing.

"Well, it had better if I'm doing it and if not, then that's simply an impossibility otherwise," Robert replied too smugly and you playfully smacked his chest, grooving up and down with his cock. He grinned, flashing his white teeth in the yellow-orange light of the single lantern and relished in observing you enjoying him a few more times until you grew fatigued, legs aching and trembling from the exertions.

"I love your orgasms," he said softly as you panted, catching air.

"How do you know you love them? You can't feel what I do," you breathed densely, stroking his throat.

"I enjoy watching you experience them," he clarified with emphasis.

"If beauty were a feeling, this would most certainly be it," you decided with a smile and he echoed it, palming your cheek and rubbing a thumb on your tender earlobe.

"Beauty isn't a feeling, she's a person."

You blushed and his grin grew broader, tracing his thumb down your jaw and ending at your chin, which he pressed into lightly and you giggled, straddling his dick again.

When you hit your last climax, you collapsed onto his chest with his cock still twitching inside you and the sticky mess was gathering between his body and yours when he shifted, gradually squirming out of your hole and you closed your eyes, listening to the lessening storm moving off to the east and Robert held you close as you mumbled faintly to his shoulder.

"My father used to say when I was a child that thunder was the byproduct of the gods having a game of bowling."

"Then they're getting a lot of strikes tonight," he chuckled before speaking more seriously.

"Now, if we go by mythology alone, it would surely be the work of Astrapē and Brontē, unless Zeus is on the warpath again with his own thunderbolts that were actually fashioned by the Uranian Cyclopes, notably Brontes, Steropes, and Arges. Did you know brontē translates to thunder, the name 'Steropes' comes from steropē, meaning 'lightning bolt', and 'Arges' originates from argē, or 'flashing'?"

"Tell me about them all," you whispered sleepily and he began to recite from Greek, voice fading and tuning in and out like a poor radio broadcast as you drifted in and out of a state of sleep, disorienting your surroundings, but the one constant was him underneath you.

After a while and he had grown quiet, you groaned, getting off him with ears perked for noise of the storm, but there was only a steady rain trickling off outside, the light show and rock and roll done with, so you unzipped the tent and hurried outside. The fire had long gone out and the air had indeed cooled, moist on your skin and a balm to your lungs as you went to urinate over several feet away, letting some of the sexual fluids leak out, and as soon as you were finished, you scuttled back to the tent lightly soaked in rain and inside, Robert had made a comfortable nest out the sleeping bag and couple blankets, ready to rest with you. You snuggled in and he cupped your face, bringing you close to his side and you almost fell asleep instantly to dwell in a dark depth.

You were marked with a bit of relief when early morning came, the daylight breaking out over the mountains and you stumbled nude out of the tent, shivering from the chill and breathing in that stinging freshness of rain. You caught the first beam of sunlight coming up over the hills and you felt Robert come to hug you from behind and nuzzle into the side of your neck, him still unclothed as well. The thought of someone spotting the two of you out here bare as could be crossed your mind, but that was impossible for this was too remote. The sky was blissfully silent and pink clouds drifted lazily from the horizon, clearing out for another day.

"Have you ever had sexual intercourse during the course of a thunderstorm before?" you asked softly and he breathed out slowly, his warm breath blowing onto your neck and chin.

"I have done a great many unusual experiences, but none such as this with you. I would do it wholeheartedly a hundred times over."

"I think I would too," you replied sincerely and he spun you around to press his forehead to yours and cradle your head in a loving vice.

"I can't think of a more powerful way to express my love for you, Aphrodite," he murmured and you felt like crying for whatever reason. You blinked, lashes wet, and he pulled back to stare at you with a sort of fascination.

"We should dress," you pointed out and he glanced down at his bare appendages with a grin.

"What's the hurry?"

"The horses are watching," you said quietly and awkwardly, noticing both of them standing stock still and heads facing in your directions.

"Well, in that case..." Robert quickly ducked back into the tent, tugging you with him and falling to the sleeping bag with a grin.

"I'm ready for it, if you want a round two?" he asked with some excitement and then wasted no time as you let him feel you up before his cock pushed in again, but you weren't wet hardly enough and it made you wince at the brash roughness shoving into your semi-tight hole. He gripped the blanket pooling around your head and grunted, thrusting as you whimpered, attempting to shove him off.

"Robert, no, it hurts," you protested and upon seeing your visibly contorted face of pain, he immediately stopped trying, rolling off to the side and huffing.

"God, I'm sorry... I forget it's too fast sometimes, I suppose I should've brought lubrication," he apologized sheepishly and you sighed, cuddling into his slim body and resting a hand on his flat stomach.

"Do we have to go back to town? I think I could stay out here forever," you admitted and you could hear the prideful joy in his tone.

"I knew I could make it work, having combined my love for physics and the New Mexico countryside. Destiny, you reckon?"

"No, just hard work and the right connections," you answered flatly.

"Such a boring realist," he teased and you chuckled, lying in silence for a while with him until a glaring sunlight hit the tent walls, glowing up the space in a translucent light.

"Wait, what time is it?" you inquired pressingly and he checked his watch, the relaxation dimming into a grim seriousness.

"Time to pack up and ride back before they send the calvary to find us," he said, not covering his bit of disappointment and getting up to pull his boxers back on. You both redressed in the clothes from yesterday and folded up the tent, packing on the horses and you settled on yours to follow behind Robert on his out of the campsite and along the way you came from, give or take a certain pathway and few miles.

When you finally reached Los Alamos, it was broad daylight and military personnel were stationed as usual by the gate. Robert calmly nodded after checking in briefly and went clopping by the checkpoint first while you tried to ignore a few stares and some man actually whistled, making you feel entirely self-conscious, as though you were an open book and they could somehow know or likely assume all that had happened overnight, but that was absolutely absurd; security was tight here, but not that extreme to tail you out into the desert.

You trotted your horse up beside Robert's and he looked to you, raising eyebrows at your leery expression.

"Everything alright?" he asked curiously and you bit your lip, unable to voice your true doubts, so you downplayed it.

"It's really nothing, I'm just reacclimating to being in town after such a night. I'll tell you, even with that horrid storm, I didn't miss it much here."

He nodded nonchalantly and then gave you a cautious once-over, licking his lips.

"I'm already nostalgic for that wilderness journey. How about, if it's permitted, we do the same another time, just you and me again?" he proposed knowingly.

"It's a date, then." You smiled as the horses took you and him down the road towards home.

Thanks for reading, I always appreciate any feedback and the patience as I continue work on slowly developing this further. I will say there's going to be a party next chapter and I'll be adding Ernest Lawerence (Josh Hartnett) in, so maybe look forward to that ❤️

108 notes · View notes

screamingcrows · 3 months ago

Text

Nothing will be spared

Chapter 3 - Death fills the streets

Notes: Listen, I don't know either at this point. Don't squint too hard at this, and do not use this for AI. Tags: dottore x fem!reader, reincarnation au, canon-divergent, angel reader, death, hurt/comfort, mild body horror, medium burn but it will go up in flames, teyvat speculation if you squint, written pre Natlan release Minors, blank, and ageless blogs; DNI

No stars streaked across the sky that night, wholly obscured by a blanket of clouds carrying nothing but empty promises. Zandik had sat curled up in the same spot since the sun had descended, watching as it stole color from the world and left the lone moon a monochrome heritage.

The air was cold against his skin, the single canvas that stretched from an outcrop in the cliff doing little to properly keep the wind at bay. It soothed the fresh wounds littering his hairline, save when sand was blown up and caught on the tender flesh.

There was the added bonus of keeping him awake as well, shivering to stay warm made it impossible to find rest, especially paired with the vision of you advancing, pure conviction in your eyes. The humble oasis lay a little further from the rocky wall, and he could barely make out the dark silhouettes of athel wood leaves rustling in the air.

"Rest is important Zandik, I've already sworn no harm will come to you," your voice was infuriatingly tender as it permeated the darkness. He'd lost track of how many times the worry you were peering into his mind had surfaced.

"And I have made it abundantly clear that the word of someone who drew their blade, did nothing, and provided no explanation means nothing," how he wished his voice hadn't cracked with exhaustion, the toll of being awake for days becoming unbearable.

Distant lights danced along the periphery of his vision, braziers burning brightly within the imposing walls of his childhood home. It paled in comparison to the sight you made, skin gently alight, far less intense than any flame but easily twice as mesmerizing to find himself lost in.

The sound of shifting sand met his ears, causing alarm to rise at the prospect of being buried. A few pebbles clattered down from above, a wenut burying nearby the most likely explanation. Hopefully it would stay away from the little makeshift camp, having learned firsthand how much of a blessing it was to have solid rock beneath any place of rest.

"I'm aware. And I truly regret shattering any tentative trust, it was," your voice sounded almost pained as he refused to meet your eyes, "another foolish mistake. One I wish to atone for."

Zandik found himself wanting to drown in them, still haunted by the way your eyes had seemed to reflect a sea of stars bathed in molten gold for but a second before pupils had emerged to temper them. They swaddled his heart in belief, fighting the tug at his consciousness that begged him to trust. You'd known the secret he had sworn to take with him to the eternal slumber, that alone was enough to rouse his curiosity. Letting you slip through his fingers with nothing to show would be idiotic.

"Tell me who- no what exactly you are," he had his suspicion of course, but hearing it confirmed from your lips would be sweeter, busying his hands with a few mountain dates you'd collected earlier.

There was clear hesitation carved in the lines across your features, doubt when you pulled the feathered cloak a little tighter, "I'm afraid those questions are difficult to answer in any way that will leave you satisfied."

He found the air leave his lungs when you scattered a handful of sand into the air before him, several grains shimmering as they created the outline of a small bird.

"Akin to the jinni who shared your home, divinity brought me into being. My name is-" he caught the way you paused, turning his gaze to the sky and squinting to catch what had caught your attention, "not relevant. My purpose defines me, and that is to keep you safe."

Disappointment in being proven wrong, only 'akin' to the jinn then, was swiftly forgotten and the last syllables rang true. Divinely ordained protection? He wanted to balk at such a ridiculous notion. Even if his family had ties, it was nothing short of absurd to expect any concern from beings like that. Why else would his people be allowed to suffer at the hands of a tyrant?

Yet there you sat.

He couldn't help an airy chuckle before speaking up, "Some sentinel you are, claiming peace while swinging a sword," he hoped the words made you wince, "tell me what I've done to warrant this."

Meeting his end on your blade would've been a kinder fate than the sorrowful look currently pinning him to the arid ground as you spoke a single word, 'Nothing'.

It was impossible not to wonder, then, the extent of misfortune that extended from whatever mistake you claimed to have made. Cruel mockery of freedom if someone like you could simply appear from a mirage and claim ownership of his misfortune.

"How did you-" he paused, already knowing you would refuse to answer that phrasing, "you called me by a different name than anyone else, one you clearly knew I would recognize despite having never heard it said aloud. Why?"

A curse nearly slipped past his lips at your tentative hum, the picture of composure as you sat there with a straight back, hands unmoving in your lap in stark contrast to how his own itched to swat at the countless little pests moving in the dry air.

"It's the name you recognize as yours, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't quite go so far as claim ownership over something that came from thin air," it was his, as much a part of him as the blood coursing through his veins, "It is something I remember, but cannot find the origin of."

He felt frustration rise at the thought, knowing the answer was sitting peacefully just to the left, adamantly refusing salvation.

"Consider an empty chalice, if I were to pour in the juice from both pomegranate and henna berries, what would you have?"

Unable to stop himself from blurting out a response as your words hung in the air, he found heat prickling his skin as he spoke, "A foul mix…"

Were you suggesting he was more than a single person? It would be a laughable notion if he didn't remember the smell of burning flesh and cold nights on the ground he had certainly not lived through. His fingers brushed the cool sand as he stretched his legs out, well at least he hadn't lived through less than optimal sleeping conditions before recently.

"Perhaps, but that makes it no less real."

"And you want me to believe this?"

"It is well beyond the scope of my authority to dictate your beliefs, but I do not wish to see you suffer needlessly in the pursuit of answers out of your reach."

Out of his reach? The notion stung more than it had any right to, kicking up sand with the sole of his shoe.

When he found the will to argue next, the clouds had drifted enough to leave the sky above where he lay fully exposed; a vast abyss that remained comforting in its constancy. Surely, they would hold the answers he sought, hidden in the patterns his elders spent lifetimes mapping.

"Then what is the point of telling me? It's just another cryptic statement to keep me awake, the exact thing you expressed such concern over," he'd tired considerably, head throbbing with the possibilities and rendering wholly unable to keep resignation from his voice.

If he was Zandik as well, and why would he not be, why else would he remember, then that opened possibilities he didn't have the energy to deal with. Unless it was all a product of a damaged mind. A shudder ran through him at the thought of how the halls would sometimes echo with his mother's frenzied cries.

No answer came as his eyes closed, thoughts swirling like a personal sandstorm. He was almost too far gone to notice when something shifted his head, soft fabric meeting his cheek and careful fingers carding through his hair. Too fatigued to properly snap, he simply huffed, refusing to acknowledge the ache of something familiar clutching at his heart.

How had he forgotten the feeling of you, cradling him among clouds?

Gait assured and hands clasped firmly behind his back as he strode away from the clamor, piercing the fog of cries for salvation with all the assurance of a ruler. The performance was certainly enough to fool the crowd, their eyes glittering in the sunlight that reflected from his mask. It was with a heaving chest and shaking hand that he pushed aside the thin fabric at the entrance to your shared space, shoulders visibly slumping when their desperate cries faded to a soft bustle.

Heavy scents lingered upon the evening breeze, soon to be accompanied by a clatter of plates as food would be shared. They were surviving, but it was clear from their longing expressions that they weren't living.

His white cloak was discarded practiced haste, tossed into a pile of scattered papers occupying the vast majority of space. A proud smile tugged at the edges of your guilty conscience, a more permanent companion these days than the certainty that should line your movements.

"They certainly have no qualms throwing their desires onto me," exhaustion barbed his words, brown gloves being adjusted with almost obsessive care, twisting this way and that until the leather yielded.

How you'd ever thought yourself able to strike him down was a wonder. The fear in his eyes had been too much, rendering you unable to so much as keep your weapon materialized, much less follow through on Her guiding words.

"You've given them a taste of hope," you met him with a faltering smile upon seeing the hesitation, his hand stilling at the clasp holding the mask in place, "it is no wonder they cling."

"I helped them organize this pathetic little camp, they survive because they're hardy. Any devotion is founded in misplaced trust," his words were broken by a little huff as he practically collapsed onto a mat.

The tent rustled as a strong wind passed, something that'd become more prevalent as of late. You had both been perfectly comfortable in solitude, alone and sheltered by a modest stretch of canvas at night. Not that you needed the rest, but it had quickly become evident that he slept more soundly with another close by, even if it had never been acknowledged.

Your hands had moved of their own accord, removing the heavy brass and discarding it as he loathed, for a moment considering if it should disappear into the pile of books and papers to your right. Routine led your movements, digging out the ointment he'd been offered by a former courtesan. The color almost as vibrantly crimson as his eyes, henna berry and an elusive flower from the north blending together in a soothing paste that aided the wounds along his jaw.

Application had become an almost meditative routine, one Zandik had only agreed to hone if it was done by your hand, having looked at the paste with disgust the first time he'd put his fingers to it. The first step was by far the most precarious, bringing the dark metal to his cheek and reverently letting it glide along the curves of his jaw. He hardly breathed while you worked, your mind praising the metalworker three tents away who gladly tended every tool brought before him.

Next came the viscous paste itself, no doubt cool against his burned skin if the way he hissed was any indication. Why he would insist on bearing that damning visage would never make sense, not now that the meager support he'd scraped together had grown to a gathering of devout followers. There was nothing to hide from here.

"They are getting better," your thumb dragged along his cheekbone, seeing as the bloody mixture disappeared into his skin, "a day or two without-"

"Out of the question. If you are finished, a newcomer brought me a new script. Claims they took it from the library."

Your fingers lingered for a moment before withdrawing in resignation, knowing it was not for you to intervene but hating how his back groaned when he finally stretched from hours of meticulously studying every letter in isolation. If only he could understand, never had he been as loved as he was this time, and yet he remained insistent on dismissing any attempt at assimilating before swiftly retreating to his corner.

He'd done it with his parents, grandmother, servants, and now followers. With you as well, you supposed, seeing him wrap a blanket around his shoulders, back turned as he sat hunched on the ground. How long would he have left before it turned as fate decreed?

Convincing him to rest would be tethering a bird to the ground. Instead, you sat in motionless meditation as the solitary moon began its journey across the sky, accompanied only by the frantic scribbles of a quill.

Weeks turned to months. The influx of people never ceased as rumors of benevolence, an oasis outside the divinely blessed abode of the jinn-mother and her children, spread like a plague. It had become livelier, and even with several additional hands, the hunters were struggling to keep everyone fed. Distrust grew like weeds between them, and while laughter remained dominant, discourse had long since become a norm.

How long until he would be held responsible for not acting upon pleas he had nothing to do with but the ties of his blood?

You let the fabric fall, obscuring the outside world from view as clipped words reached your ears from the darkness behind you, "Could you be used as a weapon?"

His questions had gotten sharper. A hum left your lips, head turning to drink in the trembling fingers struggling not to crush delicate parchment between them. Prying them from his grasp would be difficult, but better.

Absolutes were rare, yet this required no thought, the simple refusal leaving your lips in a heartbeat.

The crease between his brows and the way his lips twitched had him appear more beast than man, "There is a mention of something descending from beyond the stars and a war ensuing, most of it is destroyed but you" his eyes were ablaze with the same hunger present whenever he drew his last breaths, "you claim the skies as your home. Tell me what you know."

He had risen to his feet, staggering forward with the desperation of a wounded predator. Sleep had been fleeting, the unease of being among so many settling in crevices he would always refute existed, cracks that seemed to spread the longer he searched.

It wasn't quite the question he wanted answered, but your voice remained even throughout providing what little you could, "I'm afraid I must disappoint, I've met no mention of such a confrontation. Stories can be nothing more but flights of mortal fancy," you paused for a moment, seeing his lips wobble around a snarl, "what might once have been a becomes a legend to mistakenly be passed on as history, how the past is preserved is a fickle thing for you."

"Do you follow me around just to revel in my failures, is that it?" There was no time to interrupt, and perhaps it was for the better that emotions were finally bursting forth. "You insist on being here to aid me, with what you refuse to say. You set yourself apart from mortals but refuse to elaborate. I have played your games for months now-"

"And despite every nudge to focus on living, you refuse to listen." It was perverse how much your voice took after Her, a steadying breath necessary to quell the feeling of something rising in your throat before you could continue. "These people look to you for leadership, they have been wronged and you have the means to set it right. They're already entrusting you with-"

"I have no desire to lead anyone! Is it so difficult to understand that there are enough matters for me to solve without being held responsible for the tyranny of a man who scorned me? You will never understand what it is like to be unwanted, no you were brought into this world bathed in starlight and certainty weren't you?" he took a shaky breath which only served to make your heart ache as his voice lowered to a whisper, "I need to know who I am, and 'setting things right' will do nothing but waste my time."

How much longer would you be forced to watch him claw to gain footing? How cruel it was that he could, for once, make a place for himself among a grateful flock yet refused to settle. It was brimstone against your tongue to know yourself responsible for how he clung to a past that shouldn't be his to know.

Perhaps adoration wasn't a sickness upon the mind, nor was reveling in it a symptom, as he had spent years convincing himself. Your soft caress had eased acceptance through his skin and replaced unruly dreams. More time had been spent in the sun, establishing a more robust food supply with irrigation having been a priority. He could only pray that the Mistress of Dreams would not let their supply run dry.

It would be blatant falsehood to say their smiles as he passed did nothing to fill a bleeding gash he'd no memory of being inflicted.

Three names. Three roles contained in the same body. One of which remained just out of reach, feeling incomplete in his mind. Shiruyeh, Khorramdin, and Zandik. That he remembered bits, things that seemed to sadden you whenever mentioned, spoke of the authenticity. Zandik had lived a life as real as you. If only the entirety could be brought back, let it explain itself.

Beyond a sorely needed change of perspective, there was another thing leadership offered; many hands working in unison under his guidance could accomplish far more in the same time. Though he mused it would be easier if they all shared his ambitions.

The number of newcomers had been rapidly declining as well, allowing for a better establishment of routines although he mourned the loss of new materials to study that they would bring as a type of 'sacrifice' to be permitted to stay. Who would an exile have been to deny shelter in the first place? Still, he had gladly accepted, piling the scrolls in a precious hoard.

He struggled for breath, barrel of water heavy in his arms as he kept pace with the group heading back. It was a satisfying sight that rose to meet them, the numerous tents making up what could almost be considered a village. A chuckle left his lips and mixed with the voices of others, some child further ahead busying themselves 'protecting' the rest with their little toy sword.

Zandik paused to adjust the mask, feeling the sweltering heat of the metal through his glove as he took the opportunity to breathe unimpeded for a moment. The sky above seemed inviting, free of the large vultures that plagued them from time to time; the blue backdrop far from the descriptions of bleeding skies when divinity had arrived in this world.

Not created.

Most likely, it was another romanticized tale of the Mistress of Dreams and Amon. It did nothing to ease the nagging feeling whenever his fingers had grazed the parchment. He'd yet to find mention of the name that plagued his tongue.

Records mentioned his grandfather, destined for greatness, recognized by Amon himself and gifted a wife and insight. Servants who had fled his father's tyranny claimed honey came laced with poison in that place and any mention called for a severed tongue. A forbidden repository of knowledge and a paranoid father. There had to be something, especially if he'd truly managed to add the wisdom of Hermanubis to his collection.

Were the answers out of reach because they lay buried with the past? Time was the ally of progress, and history his enemy with it's insatiable maws, swallowing up all that he needed to consult. How had he been birthed with the memories of another? Simply beginning to consider the implications hurt, when would he end and Zandik begin? And did it even matter?

It had grown to infest his every waking thought, seeing patterns in the sand and shadows amidst rays of light. The truth was what he craved above all else. Years of restraint had left him weary as the populace who fled to his embrace. He tasted their bloodlust in the air growing with every day they scraped by.

Quick words were exchanged when they set down the fruits of their labor, several others coming to take away the spoils and divide it among those in need. He felt glances cast from all directions, the telltale sound of metal against whetstone making his skin crawl. They were all as restless as him, perhaps you were right. It would come to bloodshed no matter what, a coordinated effort would have greater chances of success.

You were, as always at this hour, kneeling on the ground in some sort of trance. How predictable for something so frustratingly inexplicable.

"I will be gone for a day. Remain here, tell them I am unwell and require solitude if questions arise," he'd seen you with the others, how easily you had them singing and smiling trough hardships, listening to stories that were always cut short upon his arrival. There should be no problem leaving you to keep them occupied.

The feathered cloak you refused to shed rustled with movement, voice even in its refusal, "Where you go, I am required to follow."

Required? That was new.

"I have something to settle alone."

"And there are reasons that require never letting myself stray far, I apologize, but this is a wish I cannot grant."

Your presence in particular had been easy to accept once the initial unease of someone constantly peering silently at him had settled. Perhaps it was the way your eyes never held the judgement of his teachers, nor the unstable glint of his parents, there was nothing but compassion no matter how he scrutinized it. Or perhaps it was how a name not really his rolled from your tongue with something a lesser man would be deluded to call love. Though your words were shrouded in something that had his skin crawl, it was never malicious.

"I was not asking, sentinel, I was laying out the facts."

The little shake of your head had him instinctively crossing his arms, prone to feeling like a petulant child in your presence.

"At least share your endeavors that I might rest easy."

"Southwest. It is only a matter of time before unrest kindles to flame, if I can broker a peace any unnecessary loss can be avoided," loss of both lives and history.

If done with care, nothing that mattered would be lost. Knowledge suffers when cities are set ablaze, punctuated by the lack of more than a single measly mention of something as grand as gods arriving.

"You wish to meet the man who exiled you, alone? And what is to say he won't strike you down for returning?" It was rare to see such a display of raw emotion from you, the urgency in your voice having him take a few steps forward, eager for your eyes to come into view.

"I doubt he would recognize my voice. My face will be obscured and there is no reason to believe I would come back-"

"To a throne that is rightfully yours?"

"He should know that I have never wanted that."

Zandik knew he would be struck down the moment he set foot in the city. His wishes had never mattered in the face of whatever glimpse of fate had been bestowed upon that old man. But you didn't need to know.

It stung to see him leave in the dead of night, but not nearly as much as going directly against his directions. For respect alone had you stayed aloft, far out of earshot while he met with a woman on the outskirts of the city, both of them having had enough foresight to stay huddled in the shadows cast by the walls. It had done little to soothe your nerves, eyes darting between them and the walls to catch any emerging threat. There'd been a touch of something upon the air, the crackle still lingering along your skin weeks after.

"People have begun pouring into the camp again."

You hoped that approaching conversationally would be enough to have him share more of whatever plan had been brewing, the urge to extract the information having made itself present on more than one occasion since he'd ventured to Gurabad. There was something about the woman that made your skin crawl, something fundamentally wrong with the subdued grin she'd worn.

"Be quiet, today has been long," a small frown tugged at your lips when he turned away, dragging the blanket he always complained was itchy a little further up his body.

"Zandik," a failure it would seem, you urged your voice to soften further, "I'd be grateful if you would tell me what the result of your meeting was."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly when your hand came to rest atop his head, nails dragging along his scalp. It was delightful how much easier providing comfort was to the living bodies rather than the ones you would conjure for their souls.

"There's no agreement to be made with that old bastard, he's too far gone according to-.. According to an advisor. There's nothing but his own greed left. He might as well be a senseless monster."

Sounds of laughter filtered through the tent, only serving to make him curl up a little further, songs filling the air with hope that seemed a little more tangible than usual.

"I hesitated to tell you since you've refused to be a weapon. I sent out a few to recruit other settlements who might want a piece of the spoils when we take back the city. Those remaining from the temple have pledged their support as well, promising me unlimited access to the collections in return for their freedom," a scoff left his lips, your ears only faintly picking up the words mumbled into his covers, "to think he'd stoop low enough to seize Tulaytullah…"

You hadn't questioned him then. Hadn't questioned when the day came either, the air eerily cool even as the blazing sun rose, as if that would cool the fury of the oncoming slaughter. There were rustles among the uneven ranks, borrowed weapons clutched too tightly in their hands. It hurt to see them charge, droplets of red saturating the sand where bodies fell. Your hand itched for the familiar hold of the blade, ceremonial more than anything, as you perched atop a crumbling wall, eyes scanning the clamor below for Zandik's masked visage.

Carnage raged like a tempest as exhausted guards were met with a flood of rage. A deep breath to settle the thrum of desperation that bid you to reach out a hand and join your descending kin. It stung in a foreign way to see as souls were lifted from bodies you knew.

A flicker of darkness in your periphery making you turn your head and blink. Gone as quickly as it had appeared.

For a moment, it seemed his rebellion would be successful when the great machines patrolling the streets creaked loudly and began to crumble, cheers erupting all around them.

For a moment, fate left your mind.

Until the world heaved with torment and brought you back, watching as a single wave of sand rolled through the streets and uprooted buildings. People were scattered, thrashing like dying fish before clambering to their feet. Horror swam through your vision as the ground split open, gaping maw devouring everything caught between its jaws.

No thoughts ran through your head, limestone structures meaningless as they sunk around you and screams filled the air. Someone was barking out panicked commands above, a watcher, but it didn't stick, it didn't matter if you couldn't find Zandik. You couldn't fail again.

His lungs struggled to take in air, choking instead on something thicker than smoke that had his lungs about to burst. Could he move his hands, he might have clawed a hole in his throat just at the feeble hope of breathing again. His ears were ringing, from the pressure of something around him or simply fear was uncertain.

Right. There had been a hulking monstrosity in place of the man who'd thrown him out. A fitting replacement. The thought that it could be him was shoved far away, unable to consider such a possibility while his own body writhed around its bones.

It had snapped its jaw, beautiful black liquid dripping from teeth made to rend flesh. Liloupar had waved a hand before it advanced in rolling thunder, cracking tiles beneath its paws with ease. His sword had been no use against it, shattering like brittle clay bathed in flames.

Why couldn't he feel any of the injures he knew he'd sustained?

He swore there were shadows moving around him, some falling further and others stalking as though on solid ground. A distant clamor as well, muffled as though moving through liquid. Zandik wanted to scream and curse as they did.

Liloupar had exerted control over the monster, however fleeting it had been, she had done this.

Ah what he wouldn't give in exchange for control when his mind drowned out the commotion. Save us Khorramdin save us help us free us failure. Not even in this suffocating darkness would their voices leave him alone, begging for salvation from someone who couldn't even save himself. Pathetic, wasn't it? That it had taken him a single burst of resolve to doom not only himself but everyone who'd believed in him.

"Foolhardy child. Thank you."

Liloupar's laughter had been the last sound he could properly pinpoint, her form rapidly vanishing with the light. There was someone else as well, someone moving towards him. He struggled in the air, with nothing to grasp or push from it was impossible to fight the descent. No sound passed his lips, finding that even the attempt had skin stretching in odd places, jaw pulled taught at the slightest movement. He couldn't part his lips. With sluggish movements, a hand came to examine his face, shaking the entire way as he fought to stay calm.

Why wasn't he screaming? The pressure in his lungs, the muscles tensing in his abdomen. He should be screaming.

The answer was easily available upon inspection, the seam of his lips regressed into nothing but smooth skin. Before realization could freeze his blood, a sickening crack pulled his attention away and had his head swimming.

He thrashed in the air for a moment, bent back into an unnatural angle before colliding with solid ground. It was cold as ice, no definitive texture, but unmistakably there as he struggled to his knees. There was a softness to it, the same tenderness as raw meat. If he strained his ears, there was a slight squelch with every shift.

There was a sea of movement around him, little ripples that he could only feel before warm creatures pierced his skin a thousand times over, wriggling beneath his hide and into every crevice as they pushed to separate skin from flesh in a sickening stretch.

Fear stung behind his eyes before they too were swallowed by the expansion of his skin, taking with it the last remnants of light as he lost the ability to open them, not having the heart to move his hands and confirm what he knew. He continued to thrash, wanting to shed whatever had claimed him, needing to at least try before he lost to the things that had burrowed into his bones.

Frantic sobs of his name pierced the abyss around him along a searing flash of light that he by all means shouldn't have seen before all fell silent.

#dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #i know this is a mess but like- since it's probably only me caring about this what is there to lose #also i'm aware the theory has been disproven it just worked nicely for this okay #dottore x fem reader #il dottore x fem reader #il dottore x you #dottore x you #x fem reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x fem reader #il dottore #zandik #crow with a pen #dottore #genshin impact fanfic #dividers by cafekitsune

19 notes · View notes

brandwhorestarscream · 9 months ago

Note

Nope, head empty, zero ideas. Would love to hear about the original au!!

*cracks knuckles*

I am so glad you asked!

So, the original AU's plot, as simple as I can make it, follows a very young Orion Pax as the only demigod child of the 13th Prime, God of beginnings, endings, and rebirth, whom we've given the name Aurum Prime. Orion spent the first chunk of his childhood in the wilderness of Cybertron, eventually found and brought to Iacon where he was adopted by a nice couple that had a daughter about his age. He stays with them for several years, not finding out about his heritage until he's about 12-ish. He gets hauled off the The Sanctuary, which is essentially this AU's version of Camp Half-Blood or Jupiter. A holy, blessed hidden oasis where demigods are safe from monsters

Unfortunately, the night of Orion's arrival, the favorite child of Alpha Trion (born to his chosen Acolyte) disappears. Orion is accused of being involved with his kidnapping, and joins the rescue mission quest to help save him

There's a lot more after that, Unicron and quintessons and a god in chains and a pair of star-crossed lovers, but 🤭 I'll let you guys ponder and send more asks if you want! Questions or ideas or suggestions, it doesn't matter! I want all of it 💖

#we called the 13th Prime Aurum because Optimus Prime literally means No. 1 The Best #hes the golden child. golden prime. aurum prime.#please laugh because im FUNNY #what...... do i call this au? son of the golden god??

9 notes · View notes

gardenofnoah · 2 years ago

Text

like real people do

for @medusashima's rise of the dead collab. i blacked out and wrote this in like 4 hours because something about a fucked up prompt speaks to the grimy little freak that scratches around in my skull

wc: 1.8k ish. tags: MDNI, dark content, zombie!au, death. angst no comfort (unless you think cannibalism is comforting, i don't know your life), blood, graphic depiction of infection/injury, gn reader. read at your own risk thx love u

♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝

a virus of unknown origin. researchers hypothesize that it was a spillover transmission event—the wrong rat stumbled across the wrong person at just the right time. some new, distant cousin of the rabies virus, with unexpected symptoms—most notably, the consumption of uninfected people by the infected. some suspected this was due to the genetic make up of the virus itself—it seemed to be fine tuned for longevity, and targeted specific motor functions controlled by the certain portions of the brain. this, combined with the rare psychosis symptom reported to be associated with rabies, may cause an uncontrollable compulsion to spread the infection, or, as others postulated, could convince the brain that uninfected bodies were a remedy for its suffering.

at least that was the hypothesis, when the researchers were alive to articulate it.

with the authoritative voice of science effectively silenced, there was more than enough room for conspiracy theories and hysteria to wiggle in and take hold. it was around that time that the media began to circulate the "zombie" rhetoric, and with no scientific name or official explanation (or government sanctioned placation) in place, an official zombie outbreak took shape. the violence that followed was as deadly as the outbreak itself, and served as another painfully efficient route of transmission. whoever lived through the war in the street died of the virus shortly thereafter. there'd been doomsday folks to warn of the end of times for as long as there'd been a time to be alive in. it was strange, then, when they'd fallen silent too.

you and kento had joined in with a ragtag group of strangers early on—with strength in numbers, you successfully isolated yourself in an old, abandoned cabin in the woods a few miles south of town. you got lucky enough to have a few in your group that some construction experience—before you knew it, you had a fairly well reinforced fortress, where you could continue your game of chicken with death. from there, you could ignore the fact that fewer and fewer of your newfound troop came back with each expedition for food and supplies.

there were books to read there, and if you let yourself, you could even find some joy in cooking meals with whatever kento could find in the pantry. he'd wake you up between moth-bitten sheets with breathless kisses, the two of you just grateful to have the opportunity of another day together. when he dragged you out of bed and twirled you around the creaky floorboards, you could pretend the apocalypse outside of your fenced in oasis was little more than a scary story. sprawled across his chest in the afterglow of some indulgence far removed from your reality, you could ignore the way death lingered on the outskirts of your camp.

you could ignore it, until it was your turn to fetch the necessities.

it was fine until it wasn't, as most things tended to be. you'd located a gas station that your group had missed on previous trips—a little farther out, but with how remote it was, it wasn't likely that it had been completely ransacked. if nothing else, you could figure out how to siphon any gas left in the tanks, and hope it was enough to get the old work truck left in front of your fortress running again. if you were mobile, your chances of survival would raise exponentially.

you'd tried to jimmy the door open with your shoulder as quietly as possible, but time and neglect had caused the wood frame to swell and distort around the metal. you grit your teeth when kento put a boot to the door. splinters of wood and glass shards flew as the scrape of metal rattled your bones. for a sickening moment, all was silent. and then you heard the screeching, and the dragging of rotting limbs against asphalt.

♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝

"fuck, fuck," you grit through your teeth, arms looped under his armpits as you drag him behind the checkout counter and into the first open door with the latch still intact. a storage closet, apparently.

you set him down for a moment, and it's—really, really not good. there's a deep laceration in his slide from a particularly nasty piece of glass. it's nearly eviscerated him.

you don't have the opportunity to fully process what that might mean—all at once, it feels like someone has lit your hand on fire. when you look down, you see a perfect outline of human teeth across the back of your hand.

you reel back from kento. "oh fuck."

you have no idea what to do, looking around wildly as if the storage closet holds the answers to this god forsaken outbreak. and it might, you realize, when you spot an extension cord, coiled up on one of the shelves.

before you can even make sense of your own actions, you're tying one end of the cord to an exposed pipe sticking out of the brick wall, and the other around your neck. like this, your range of motion is just limited enough to keep you away from the door, and away from kento.

but in your haste, you haven't packed his wound. he's going to bleed out at your feet. if you untie yourself, you're probably going to eat him. he's dead either way.

as if he senses your realization, he meets your eyes for the first time.

"where?" he rasps.

it's a moment before you can find your voice. "my hand."

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "i'm so sorry, my love."

"why are you sorry?"

"it's my fault," he's too quiet, and far too uncertain to match the kento that's carried you through the last year of this outbreak, "i drew them to us."

you shake your head, but you're silent. wanting so badly to find the right words, and having a hard time getting your brain to catch up to the current moment. he was upright and steadfast, and now he's staining the tile beneath him. all in the matter of a few seconds.

"you need to untie yourself, love."

"no." you say firmly, barely giving it a second thought.

“you’re just going to watch me rot until you starve to death?” he laughs harshly, choking on it—sputtering a little. he takes a deep breath and he, despite you mentally willing him to stop, continues.

“no,” he rasps, letting his eyes close, “don’t do that. you can have me—it’s okay.”

“stop,” it leaves you with a groan, squeezing your own eyes shut and shaking your head, as if you could dislodge his words, “stop—”

“this won’t end with you and i,” you hear him reach for you, limp arm dragging across the floor. he falls short—you can't bring yourself to meet him halfway, even if you had the range of motion to do it. “you know that, don’t you? locking yourself in here won’t change that.”

and he just keeps talking, keeps prying open the wound you can’t see. "i just want you to make it out, my love. in case they can find a cure."

you can’t answer him. you want to laugh in his face, you want to scream at him and shake him. but you can't do anything—can't even tell him that you don't want to make it out without him, because when you look down at your hand again, you find that the tissue surrounding the bite has turned necrotic far too quickly—as if you were watching yourself rot, sped up or on loop. you know what comes next.

you know you’re out of time.

the burn radiates up to your neck. your vision blurs a bit with the pain, and then with hot tears as it hits you—these are the final moments of your life. you wonder what you ever did to deserve to watch the love of your life bleed out in front of you. what could have been so bad, to then be forced to desecrate his corpse.

“ken,” you choke, curling in on yourself, chin dropping to your chest. it’s an animal attempt at self-soothing—like a house cat that knows the end is here, you feel the instinct to isolate—to protect the others around you—even now. you are reduced to only primal senses: fear, grief, love. the need to survive. to ensure the survival of those you love, even in the final moments.

he’s fading just as quickly, but he’s stubborn.

“c’mere my love,” he slurs, blinking slow, “it’s alright.”

against all of your fleeting senses, you find yourself unraveling the cord from around your neck. if you looked down, you’d see that your arm is now blackened to the elbow.

some part of you already knows, though, so you don’t bother.

you’re focused on his face, through your tears—the blue eyes that hold yours despite the puddle of blood that you now crawl through. the smell is nauseating, but so is everything else about this—you feel it soak through your tattered jeans as you pull yourself toward him on your three remaining limbs.

you stop when you’re over top of him, breathing heavy and dripping tears and drool onto his face. he doesn’t mind, and you’re not sure he can even feel it anymore with the way he’s looking at you like nothing about this is abnormal.

“ken,” whispered, because one last secret between you is a luxury you feel entitled to, “i’m afraid.”

“i know, my love,” there’s a soft smile on his face that wraps around your heart like barbed wire, “one more kiss? before we meet again.”

“are you fucking crazy—”

“please,” he croaks, and you see the fear mirrored on his face for the first time, “please. just one.”

you shake your head stubbornly and yet you reach for him, hands on both sides of his face. you ignore the way you see every one of your veins in your periphery, bold and darkened with decay, pulsing and searing as they trail up your shoulder. with the way you feel it creep up the side of your face, you imagine you have only a minute at most before the virus reaches your brain.

“i love you,” he breathes against your lips, and you can taste it on your tongue—his love and his leaving, all in three words. if you were a better person, you’d let him go peacefully.

you think you can feel it, then, when it hits your brain stem. latching on to every nerve, every synapse—choking the life—the willpower— out of you, one cell at a time.

“please,” he rasps, and you don’t know if he’s begging for you to let him go, or if he's pleading with someone else, now.

you don’t let yourself deliberate. you drag your lips down his jaw, vision spotty. you hover over the faint pulse of his jugular, hyper aware of how hard his body is fighting to keep him alive right now. feeling the fluttering of arteries, fighting to find something to circulate through themselves.

for a reason you hope you won’t have to justify if there is an afterlife, you open your mouth—whisper one last apologetic declaration of love against his skin—and you bite down.

you bite until teeth touch teeth again. sinew shreds underneath, and you let it flood your mouth. you hear it when it starts—the death rattle, deep in his chest—and rip yourself away with a piece of him and squelch that should make your stomach turn, but doesn’t.

he loved me, you think, forcing yourself to swallow. feeling him slide down your throat in some sort of sick last rite—an act of closure that suddenly feels fitting as he struggles to suck down one last breath. he loved me.

♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝

this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.

#911? i've killed my husband please help #the way that i kicked my feet writing this #i want to write more of this #rip my mans though #nanamin #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fic #nanami kento dark fic #collab: rise of the dead #fic: like real people do

65 notes · View notes

keicordelle · 8 months ago

Text

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Swimming

Alphinaud peered dubiously over the edge of the dock, staring into the deep blue water below before looking back to at Keshet. "This is a terrible plan. Do you even know how to swim?"

Keshet arched a brow at him. "Of course I do."

"Don't your people live in the desert?" Alphinaud asked. Desperation crept into his voice in place of his usual curiosity, and Keshet frowned at him, perplexed.

"Well, yeah, but it's not like we never leave it. There are rivers everywhere on the Southern half of the Steppe. Plus, our camp is built around an oasis. I mean, swimming in it is frowned upon, but... It happens, you know."

Alphinaud's lips stretched in what could only be called a grimace. Bordering on a scowl even. "Ah. I see."

"See, even the Warrior of Light knows how to swim, and he's a bloody desert-dwelling lizard!" Alisaie crowed, hands in her hips as she lorded over her brother like she were claiming some sort of victory. Keshet could put together the pieces well enough on his own, and decided swiftly that he did not particularly care to get caught up in another sibling argument. Two months on a boat with them had faced him with more than enough to last him a lifetime.

He turned his back on Alphinaud, who was defensively protesting something about swimming "hardly being a necessity", and silently stripped out of his top, stowing it carefully away. A stretch to the left, another to the right, flex the tail to make sure it's limber, aaaaand splash!

Oh that felt nice. Disgruntled cries rose up behind him, but he paid them no mind. Their voices were lost to him once his head dunked under the water anyway, and then it was just him and the waves. He cut through the sea, his tail swishing through the water as if to steer. It didn't help much, honestly, but the feeling of the water's drag along its scales was nice, and if he was being completely honest, it was just more fun that way.

He'd never really had a particularly strong love for the water. He was a middling swimmer at best, far from the prodigious talents of the Ejinn tribe, but he was alright. He was from the desert, after all, and he hadn't had quite as much chance as most others to put his skills to the test - not that he was going to admit that to Alphinaud. He didn't know much about Sharlayan, but it must be really arid if even Alphinaud, eminent scholar and always eager to suck down knowledge wherever he could, had never had the chance to learn.

After all, there was something freeing about the slip if water around him, supporting him entirely. Ejinn or not, he did rather enjoy the feeling. It made him feel like a kid again, pretending to be a snake or a crocodile as he shimmied up the river, horns carving the way through the water.

Before he knew it, he'd reached the far shore, hauling himself up on the sands to wait for the others to join him. He'd found a nice rock to sun himself on by the time Alphinaud finally climbed out from the sea, looking rather like a drowned rat. He hunched over his knees, panting for breath, before leveling a plaintive look at Keshet. "Why did you have to know how to swim?"

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

FIRST | PREV | NEXT

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #au ra wol #alphinaud #alisaie leveilleur #final fantasy xiv #keshet dotharl #daily inconveniences #my writing #~k #I don't know why I apparently tag things with just alphinaud's first name but alisaie's full but apparently I do

7 notes · View notes

hello-eden · 5 months ago

Text

DcxPjo part 1

Bruce Wayne son of Nemesis

Ricard Grayson son of Eris

Duke Thomas son of Helios

#batfamily #batman #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #richard grayson #duke thomas #pjo x dc #I challenged myself to not make them the children of the Olympians.#I still have more and I made the collages myself.#Camp Oasis au

87 notes · View notes

dreadfutures · 8 months ago

Text

Places Prompts for Writing My DAI-AU

Please copy and paste the whole line. Thank you!

Dragon Age: Awakening-Era

avaar crypt in Vigil’s Keep

Hero’s office in Vigil’s Keep

training grounds in Vigil’s Keep

bedroom in Vigil’s Keep

parapets in Vigil’s Keep

Morrigan's eluvian

Amaranthine streets

Elven ruins in Ferelden

Forest Campsites in Ferelden

Gwaren alienage

Gwaren teyrns hall

DAI: Haven

Dungeons (Haven)

chantry (Haven)

war table (Haven)

training grounds (Haven)

forge (Haven)

wilderness (Haven)

healers hut (Haven)

tavern (Haven)

tunnels (Haven)

temple of sacred ashes (Haven)

DAI: Hinterlands

witch woods (Hinterlands)

red lyrium tunnels (Hinterlands)

vallamar (Hinterlands)

the crossroads (Hinterlands)

the farms (Hinterlands)

Templar camp (Hinterlands)

DAI: Fallow Mire

Fallow Mire camp

Fallow Mire bog

Fallow Mire fort

DAI: Crestwood

Crestwood camp

Crestwood wyrm hole/Solas grove

Crestwood dwarven caverns

Crestwood New Crestwood

Crestwood fort

Crestwood Hawke's hideaway

Crestwood dragon nest

Crestwood red lyrium quarry

DAI: Storm Coast

Storm Coast beach

Storm Coast caves

Storm Coast dwarven port

Storm Coast blades of hessarion camp

Storm Coast dwarven caves

Storm Coast the woods

DAI: Emerald Graves

Emerald Graves refugee camp

Emerald Graves on the road

Emerald Graves Vallasdahlen

Emerald Graves elgarnans bastion

Emerald Graves knights tomb

Emerald Graves wolf statue camp

Emerald Graves haunted manor

Emerald Graves great bear

Emerald Graves red Templar camp

Emerald Graves venatori camp

Emerald Graves slaver caves

DAI: Exalted Plains

Exalted Plains camp

Exalted Plains Dalish camp

Exalted Plains scorched battlefield

Exalted Plains var Bellanaris

Exalted Plains the river

Exalted Plains Ghilannains grove

DAI: Emprise

Emprise occupied suledin

Emprise cleared out suledin

Emprise frozen river

DAI: Halamshiral

Halamshiral alienage

Halamshiral upper quarter

Halamshiral winter palace

DAI: Val Royeaux

Val Royeaux cafes

Val Royeaux curio shops

Val Royeaux alleys

Val Royeaux alienage

DAI: Western Approach

Western Approach oasis

Western Approach desert

Western Approach tainted lands

Western Approach occupied fort

Western Approach still ruins

Western Approach tevinter prison

Western Approach camp

DAI: Hissing Wastes

Hissing Wastes

DAI: arbor wilds

temple of mythal

well of sorrows

mythals altar

#prompts #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition

5 notes · View notes

jojou2 · 2 years ago

Text

''قافـــلـــة الايـــموهاغ '' الـــــطـــــوارق

CARAVAN OF IMOHAGH - La caravane des Imoûhagh Touareg 🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪

الـــــــجزائـــــــــــــر_ Algeria

منذ اقدم العصور جاب الطوارق الايموهاغ الصحراء بقوافلهم فاحيوا الواحات و المخيمات و المجتمعات السكانية و قامو بتامين تبادل تجاري و ثقافي, حيث كان هناك قوافل تسافر لعدة اشهروكانت مكونة في بعض المرات مثل قافلة الملح " الزاي " بما يزيد عن الالف جمل .

Depuis la nuit des Temps, les TOUAREGS ont sillonné le Sahara en tous sens avec leurs caravanes, faisant vivre les oasis, les campements, les centres de vie, assurant les échanges commerciaux et culturels. Les caravanes partaient pour plusieurs mois et certaines étaient constituées, comme l’Azalaï la caravane du sel, de plus de 1000 dromadaires.

Since the dawn of Time, theTUAREG have crossed the Sahara in all directions with their caravans and live oasis, encampments, living centers, providing the commercial and cultural exchanges.

The caravan left for several months and were incorporated, as the caravan Azalaï salt, more than 1,000 camels.

La Grande Caravane de l’Ahaggar au Tassili N’Ajjer

C’est la piste des rezzou d’autrefois que vous suivez. De Tamanrasset à Djanet, 700 km à dos de dromadaire. Sur votre parcours, les oueds et campements de l’Est de l’Ahaggar, de vieilles montagnes volcaniques, les ténérés d’Amadghor et du Tafessasset, les grandes dunes de l’erg Admer, les falaises du tassili N’Ajjer

The Big Caravan

From Ahaggar to Tassili of N'Ajjer

This is the track of past raids that you follow. Tamanrasset to Djanet, 700 km camel. On your journey, wadis and settlements in eastern Ahaggar, ancient volcanic mountains, Ténéré of Amadghor Tafessasset, the large dunes of Erg Admer, cliffs of Tassili N'Ajjer

21jours & 22 nuits / 21 days & 22 nights

Caravane de l’Ahaggar

Au fil des oueds qui serpentent comme des veines entre les collines de l’Est de l’Ahaggar vous découvrez des campements de zéribas, des jardins sahariens, des gravures rupestres, des oiseaux, vieux volcans.

Ce voyage peut se faire à deux ou à plus que deux personnes

Caravan of Ahaggar

Over the wadis that wind like veins in the hills east of the Ahaggar you find camps of zéribas (huts), Saharan gardens, rupestral engravings, birds, old volcanoes.

🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪🐪

#Algeria #Touareg

21 notes · View notes

realm-sweet-realm · 7 months ago

Text

One For All, Chapter Five

In an AU where the protagonist never fell from the sky, the Survey Corps will have to pull together and make use of every resource at their disposal to face the challenges present in Pokemon: Legends Arceus. There will be surveyshipping.

This is the second-last chapter.

---

The silence in the cave was deafening. Cyllene stepped forward. “Very well,” she said.

T e l l m e, h o w d i d i t f e e l t o l o s e y o u r p a r e n t s?

"Telepathically?" Cyllene asked. She hadn't seen reason to think about that in ages. But as much as she didn't like where this trial was going and feared what else Mesprit might ask her to recount, Hisui needed the red chain. And if she could do it without tarnishing her image to the others, it would be for the far better.

E v e r y o n e h e r e w i l l h e a r y o u e i t h e r w a y.

Cyllene hesitated.

I f y o u c a n 't t e l l t h e m, I c a n s h o w t h e m. B u t y o u m u s t s h a r e y o u r e m o t i o n s t o p a s s t h e t r i a l.

"Show them, then."

The cave walls gave way to an illusion of a house in the countryside surrounded by farmland. The illusion of a tall, armoured man walked through the group and knocked on the door, which was opened by a nervous-looking girl of about twelve with long ice-blue hair.

"Hello? Who is this?" the girl asked.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "My name is General Kamado," he explained in a somber tone. "I've heard that your parents went missing."

The girl nodded. "They've been gone for two days. Have you seen them?"

Kamado hesitated. “In a sense, yes.”

The girl seemed to see the writing on the wall. She let out a nervous laugh as her eyes went wide. “They’re alive. You saw them alive, right?”

Kamado said nothing, but his pained look said everything.

“No. No… No. How…?”

Kamado took a deep breath. "They were found impaled and their bodies dragged into the underbrush. Most likely a random act by Johtonian ninjas. I'm sorry."

For a moment, the girl was in shock. And then she burst into tears and started crying into her hands. A wave of panicked distress hit Cyllene, and, if their faces and wet eyes were any indication, everyone else in the cave. Mesprit was making them all feel how she'd felt.

"Do you have any relatives that would take you in?" Kamado asked. "I'm sure there must be neighbours, at least."

The girl didn't even look up. Kamado took her in his arms and brought her in close, allowing her to bury her face in his chest.

"Come with me," Kamado said. It was something that Cyllene understood as an adult to be a more self-driven act than she'd known back then. Kamado and his wife had been unable to have children, and it would not have been difficult for him to find another place for her. Still, it had been the best thing he could have done for her. She'd needed the oasis he'd provided.

N o w w e w i l l s h o w t h e m w h y y o u j o i n e d t h e w a r, Mesprit explained, and the scene shifted to show an only slightly older Cyllene looking out the window, the deep bags under her eyes visible even in the early morning light.

Cyllene shut her eyes tight. Rei thought of her as so brave and heroic. This would change that. More importantly, it was treading far too close to things she did not want any of them to see.

A woman entered the scene and sighed. "I wish you'd at least try to sleep," she said. "I worry about Kamado not coming back, too. But he's survived every battle he's been in so far, and he's seen a few!" The woman smiled in a weak attempt to be comforting.

Cyllene turned to the woman. "How old do I have to be to help out at the camps?"

"You'd be old enough now."

"Then I want to be where he is as soon as possible."

The scene shifted to Cyllene sitting with a group of soldiers, comically small next to most of them. Kamado was amongst them, and being able to see where he was served as an immense comfort. "Hey, wanna learn how to fight, pipsqueak?" asked a large, red-haired young woman.

"Sure," Cyllene said. Before long they were squaring off in a field, swords in hand. Metal clashed against metal, and Mesprit allowed the others to feel her excitement. Zisu was clearly holding back, but not as much as she was expecting to for a beginner. It had given Cyllene the idea that maybe she could do more than keep Kamado in her sights- maybe she could take revenge on Johto.

The scene shifted again to her and other soldiers in armour, marching toward a similar group of Johtonians in a field- foot soldiers and archers to the front, with the samurai vanguard close up behind them. Thankfully, Cyllene couldn't find herself in their ranks, so it was unlikely anyone else could. But she could feel bloodthirsty excitement in her chest, another emotion forced on her by Mesprit.

No, not this. Not in front of the clan leaders, Cyllene thought as the apparitions of archers and footsoldiers phased through their group. She didn't need them to see her bloodlust.

D o y o u w i s h t o t e l l t h i s? Mesprit asked.

Just as Mesprit finished its question, a Johtonian samurai broke formation- perhaps out of panic or suicidal impulse- and ran, pushing through the Hoennian ranks. On instinct, Cyllene drew her sword to defend herself from the attacker, but the apparition faded right through her and attacked instead a Hoennian soldier with a stance almost identical to her own. The soldier struck the sword from the Johtonian's hand, knocked them down, and lowered their blade towards their throat. A distinctly female scream came from the armored figure, whose face was hidden by a helmet. Cyllene was momentarily stunned. She wasn’t expecting a woman. But there was no room for hesitation. She slit the Johtonian’s throat, stood up, and fell back into formation.

I killed a woman. Why does it matter that it’s a woman? Many of us are women, too. Why did that catch me off-guard? Cyllene thought, numb as she marched forward and arrows from the archers began to rain.

Suddenly, Cyllene felt a hard tug at her hair. Mesprit was right in front of her, trying to get her attention.

I a s k e d t h r e e t i m e s i f y o u w a n t e d t o t e l l t h e m i n s t e a d o f s h o w t h e m, Mesprit explained.

Despite herself, Cyllene took a moment to respond even as the cave once again became a cave. She glanced back at a horrified-looking Rei. She could have saved him from seeing this.

“What is the next question?” Cyllene asked, returning her attention to Mesprit and sheathing her sword.

Y o u 'v e k i l l e d p e o p l e, Mesprit stated. H o w d i d i t f e e l?

"The only people I killed were enemy soldiers. It was my duty to Hoenn."

N o t w h a t I a s k e d.

"It... does no good to think of that... but you leave me no choice. I expected to enjoy taking revenge on Johto. I… did, at times. I don't know how many people I killed and how many I merely wounded, but severe wounding isn't always an improvement on death. I've caused screams- men, women, boys, children so young I'm not sure whether they were girls or boys. I hated Johto, but I did not enjoy that. But it was necessary whether I enjoyed it or not. My actions were correct. It shouldn’t matter if my feelings were."

B u t i t d o e s, t o y o u.

Cyllene remained silent.

T e l l t h e m h o w t h e w a r h a u n t e d y o u, Mesprit ordered.

Cyllene closed her eyes and tried to put it into words she’d be willing to say. It was impossible. "Show them," Cyllene said. It was the only way she was going to complete this.

Cyllene turned her back and walked past the others. She could hear memories play out behind her. The first one was one in which, during peacetime, she’d thought a Johtonian was attacking and Kamado had to hold her down to keep her from hurting anyone. The jolt of panic that Mesprit forced through her shook her up so badly that nothing she heard registered after that. She was a trembling mess, hoping that the others didn’t look back at her. She wanted to tell them that that had been years ago, that she wasn’t like that anymore, that it had only caused her to be dangerous once. But there was only so much faith she could inspire in this state, and regardless, the damage was done. The damage was still being done. And she was too keyed up to even know what it was.

O n e l a s t q u e s t i o n, a n d i f y o u 'r e h o n e s t, t h e t r i a l w i l l b e c o m p l e t e. H o w d o y o u f e e l a b o u t t h i s t r i a l?

Cyllene turned back to face Mesprit, back to her steely professionalism. "It is an appalling waste of time and of my usefulness as a captain. The Survey Corps needs to think of me as a strong and infallible leader, and our allies need to see me as impartial and reasonable. You have helped us to save the world, but there was no reason for the cost."

W e l l t h e n…

Mesprit plucked out one of its plumes and handed it to Cyllene.

"Thank you," Cyllene said, taking it. Thankfully, the loathesome creature faded away after that.

"Our next location is in the Coronet Highlands. We'll travel on our flying Pokémon and stay low enough to find the rest of the Survey Corps. With any luck they will be gathered at the ruins Cogita described," Cyllene commanded the others, voice steady. She turned to exit the cave and began walking past the others, averting her eyes from whatever reactions they might have had. "Do what you will after the sky is fixed, so long as you do not breathe a word of this to anyone. But until then, you will follow me." There was a moment of uneasy silence as the group left the cave. “Please,” Cyllene added.

"Y-you got it, ma'am," Rei replied, "None of it leaves this cave! And we’re right behind you."

Cyllene didn’t look back.

Outside the cave, the red sky persisted, painting the landscape in its oppressive gloom. It was all the reminder Cyllene needed that now was the time to focus on the immediate.

The flight was short, and before long the six landed in front of Cogita and around two dozen Survey Corp members.

"Ah, there you are," said Cogita. "Did you bring the keys from the lake trio?"

"Yes," Cyllene replied, digging out the plume as Rei and Laventon did the same with their respective supplies.

"Perfect. While you were gone, I led the Survey Corps to harvest enough origin ore to make a few pokéballs from the red chain. We decided that would be the best use for it."

Cogita took the three items and carried them to the center of the Celestica ruins, the Survey Corps as well as the six following along to watch what was sure to be a mystical process. Once she was there, apparitions of the lake trio appeared and levitated the items from her hands. The items spun, bathed in red light, and then transformed into a beautiful chain of red gems that fell back down into Cogita's hands.

Cogita turned back to the group. "There. Now, what do you say, Survey Corps? Shall we do the crafting ourselves and allow these six a chance to rest? The lake trials aren’t easy. And lord knows that you have quite the challenge ahead of you."

"Thank you, Cogita,” Cyllene said.

It wasn't far to the Galaxy Team's nearest encampment, where the group started a fire and put on some food. The cries of Pokémon filled the air as the less intelligent ones played outside their balls and the cleverer ones bayed at the foreign sky. It was loud enough to save the six from attempting to make awkward conversation to distract one another from the reality of facing their allies or fellow Galaxy Team members. The group especially gave Cyllene her space, sensing that she was in no mood for casual interaction.

Laventon sent out the strange trio of Pokémon he’d brought- the specimens he called a rotom-mow, a porygon-Z, and a bronzong.

“Alright, you three,” Laventon called out over the noise, “If you have any special world-saving powers you’d like to share with me, now would be the time! Because time really is of the essence right now, and, well, um… I’m afraid it’s been hard to figure out exactly what you do or how you work biologically, or, well, anything about you, really.”

The three Pokémon looked at each other and appeared to laugh at him before joining the other Pokémon in the encampment at their play.

While Laventon watched the strange Pokémon, he felt someone grab his shoulder. It was Adaman, and Irida was standing beside him.

“You need to talk to Cyllene,” Adaman said.

Irida nodded in agreement. “It makes sense that the trial would shake her up, but she can't lead the mission while she's this fragile. You’re closest to her. You need to either comfort her or make her step down.”

Laventon looked back at the captain, who was tending the fire, apparently deep in thought. “I’ll talk to her,” he said.

Laventon sat down next to Cyllene. “Perhaps bringing those enigmatic creatures wasn’t my wisest move. But I couldn’t have forgiven myself if I found out later that they could have saved us!” he started, trying to keep the tone light.

“You have your typhlosion. That will be enough if you are separated from the group.”

"Do you want to go for a little walk, captain?"

"No," she said firmly, still looking to the fire.

"Please?"

Cyllene sighed. "Fine," she answered, getting to her feet.

Cyllene led the way into the pines, eyes forward.

"You know, you're nothing special to me," Laventon said. "Er, um, I mean, you're nothing different to me. Um, wait." Laventon sighed heavily. "What I mean, captain, is that I studied in Johto. My work had nothing to do with the war, but I met plenty of people who were affected by it.”

“And you can use that information to decide whatever you please once the world is saved. Until then, you follow me regardless of how it bothers you that I could have enjoyed hurting some of those people.”

“That isn’t what I meant at all. You're not anything I couldn't understand. Even if you were, you've proven yourself as a leader. And you didn’t do anything wrong during the war. Your feelings may have been complicated, but-”

Cyllene stopped dead. “I killed people. I chose to fight as soon as I was allowed because I wanted to kill people.” Her hands were balled into fists, and they were shaking. “I allowed Rei to witness a person bleeding to death. I don’t even know what else Mesprit showed you. And the clan leaders- what were they saying to you?”

“That you’re reasonably shaken up. I promise that’s all. None of us fault you for that, I’m sure of it.”

Cyllene looked back at Laventon. At very least, she knew he could trust him on that. Laventon knew how others thought. He was far better at that than she was. If that's what he saw, and if he were telling the truth, then he was probably correct. “Thank you,” she said.

“Do you need a hug?” Laventon asked, opening his arms.

Cyllene stepped into Laventon’s embrace, returned it, and cried, just like she’d cried in Kamado’s arms so many years ago. She’d lost her parents, lost her innocence, and then forged herself into a good and strong leader, both in action and in appearance. But it still felt so good to get the comfort she would have moments ago said she neither needed nor deserved.

After a while, the two separated. "Thank you," Cyllene said, her breathing returning to normal.

Laventon flashed his goofy smile. "Of course. We need you clear-headed for what's ahead, after all! Do you think you’re ready to lead?"

“Yes,” Cyllene said. Laventon could see the fire returning to her eyes.

“Jolly good! Shall we return to camp?”

“Yes.” There was a pause. “No. Before we return, there is something I’d like to tell you.” Cyllene looked Laventon directly in the eyes. "Laventon. You are my subordinate, and as such I wanted to keep an image to you. But, now that there are no secrets... I want you to know that I..." Cyllene squeezed her eyes shut as though bracing for something painful. "I love you. If we survive this, and you feel the same way, I would like to be with you."

Laventon crossed the space between them and kissed her on the lips, to which she immediately reciprocated.

#pokemon #captain cyllene #professor laventon #mesprit #captain kamado #rei #my fanfiction

5 notes · View notes