#he is looking into my soul and its a small metallic cube | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mashounen1945 · 1 year ago

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So... I've been on a massive Kirby brainrot ever since the release of Kirby & the Forgotten Land (which combined with a Metroid brainrot I already had since the announcement of Metroid Dread, so you can imagine what kind of horrifying chaos my brain has been for the last few months, but that's another story). In that unenviable situation (depending on your point of view), I had this wacky idea of how I'd like Tails's story to go once Sonic Frontiers gets all of its DLC this year.

[If songs from outside the Sonic series are mentioned, they're supposed to be taken only as an inspiration.]

Tails's moveset could bring back his skills from Sonic Battle. A few of them (namely the Magic Upper and the Flick) imply he can summon small Warp Rings to make more efficient use of some of his inventions. It could also let Tails have a dedicated Dodge move or even be able to parry enemy mêlée attacks with his tails, as well as making him able to do combos. Sonic Frontiers already has those combos, but only for Sonic for now; besides, before the game's announcement, I was already thinking of something with much more hand-to-hand combat and mêlée weapons, perhaps inspired by Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance or Advent NEON or Bayonetta, rather than relying on ranged attacks or other actions from a distance (in short: if Sonic's gameplay focuses more on "travel speed", Tails's gameplay should differentiate from Sonic's by focusing more on "combat speed").

He fights easier versions of the Titans, but each fight against them is followed by a battle inside his own mind where he fights some nightmarish creature representing his inner demons: his own fears, flaws and limitations. These "special bosses" aren't towering constructs inspired by Evangelion, like the Titans from the base game; instead, they're smaller, meant to be fought "one versus one" rather than being a seemingly very unequal "David vs Goliath" fight, heavily based upon special bosses in Fark's Story of Spark the Electric Jester 1, and they periodically switch between two forms: one of them is essentially a Mobian but much more agile, harder to hit and more unpredictable, and the other one looks like your average Kirby Soul enemy (I told you I was in a middle of a brainrot) and is pretty easy to hit but uses overwhelming attacks that barely leave space to dodge them; the Mobian-like form of each special boss looks like one of Tails's friends and also uses a few attacks from their moveset.

Additional notes: The battle music for these unique bosses would be, of course, "Special Boss" from Spark the Electric Jester 1. When defeated, right before Tails is taken back to the real world, each one of them briefly reveals a magenta gemstone with the form of a Platonic solid: one is a tetrahedron, one is a cube, and one is an octahedron.

Tails's body, just like Sonic's, gets corrupted during the story, but unlike the hedgehog, he doesn't bottle his feelings or even try to stay optimistic, instead openly expressing how much he hates this whole situation. At some point, after helping so many Kocos basically go to the afterlife, having to do all this with no help from Sonic or any of his friends, and having to deal with Sage being like "You're making a mistake" but refusing to elaborate, Tails can't take it anymore: he goes on a whole-ass rant where he just starts insulting everyone and everything, admits not to understand why he's the one having to save the world this time instead of Sonic, wishes to simply go back to his life before arriving to Starfall Islands, and ultimately gives up, lying on the ground, looking up at the sky and eventually falling asleep, no longer caring about the corruption that slowly but steadily consumes his body.

During a dream, he fights another special boss, one that isn't linked to any of the Titans and looks and moves a lot like Shadow but also includes modified versions of a few attacks from the moveset of a certain jackal from a previous Sonic game. When defeated, the magenta gemstone briefly looks like an icosahedron, only to quickly morph into a great stellated dodecahedron and later take Shadow's form. As the background clears itself and stabilizes, this apparition of Shadow —based upon Tails's memories of him— encourages the fox to follow Sonic's example, not give up and also remember his friends are still supporting him and willing to help him however they can.

When Tails is about to die from his body's corruption, his friends cure him and restore his body at the cost of their physical forms, just like in the original story. However, Tails doesn't accept losing his friends again and having to keep fighting alone, so he decides to "kick the playing board": when the de-corruption process is almost complete, he goes Super, uses his powers to create a Warp Ring that leads to Angel Island, and uses that Warp Ring to directly touch the Master Emerald with his hand and go Hyper; recalling what Tikal had said about the power of Chaos (that it comes from the soul and turns thoughts into reality), he brings Sonic, Knuckles and Amy Rose back from the Cyber World with no side effects, although this consumes all of Hyper Tails's power and makes him fall back to his base form. Later, the battle against Supreme has the entire quartet working together to defeat the Titan, with Sonic eventually going Super and dealing the coup de grâce; when Tails has to fight within his mind the special boss linked to Supreme —which uses a deadly combination of the best of Sonic's and Tails's movesets—, he surprisingly receives Sonic's help and both of them defeat the special boss together.

Additional notes: When Sonic intervenes in Tails's special boss fight, "Special Boss" from Spark TEJ 1 is replaced by "Live & Learn". The mysterious gemstone of this special boss is revealed to be a dodecahedron when it's defeated.

Right before the final battle, Sage warns Tails about a possible great threat he might have to face while she and Sonic deal with The End. He finds a bright purple whirlpool-shaped portal, goes through it, and arrives at a place very similar to both Null Space and Egg Reverie. There, he meets another version of The End; this one and the one being fought by Sonic in space aren't really one and the same, since this version of The End is still a disembodied voice and seems to be from an alternate universe. "The Other End" tells Tails that it will send him to face three powerful enemies in environments made ad hoc by it for each of those battles, and he shall defeat them in order to ensure Sonic's success against his own universe's version of The End.

Additional notes: Background music for this pocket dimension: "L86" from Kirby: Planet Robobot.

The first enemy summoned by The Other End is Mecha Sonic Mk.2, who's also provided with a replica of the magic sword Caliburn, and the environment looks like the top platform of Sky Sanctuary during a thunderstorm with strong winds and heavy rain. In his 2nd phase, he periodically switches between his normal form and something more like the Death Egg's Red Eye (the mid-boss at the end of Death Egg 1, in Sonic 3 & Knuckles), with the light in Mecha Sonic's visor being repositioned in his chest and revealed as his main plasma cannon.

Additional notes: Mecha Sonic battle theme: "Reproduction of Darkness" from Planet Robobot. When defeated, he decays into a formless body of liquid metal and starts convulsing while saying "There can only be one Sonic" in Morse code, then says Tails's name with a robotic voice that surprisingly sounds very similar to Sonic's, before immediately dissolving into the air.

The second enemy is Perfect Chaos, and the environment is a reconstruction of Station Square's ruins during the real Perfect Chaos's rampage, including the water. The battle goes roughly the same as in Sonic Generations.

Additional notes: Perfect Chaos battle theme: "Open Your Heart"; I'd like the original version to be remixed into something rather sad or "darker", with altered lyrics, or remade as a "muddy" remix (like "Faded & Flower" in Planet Robobot, a remix of "Dirty & Beauty" from Kirby: Triple Deluxe); Circuit Freq's remix for Sonic Generations would be fitting as well. When Perfect Chaos is defeated, Tikal's voice is heard in the distance, saying "Thank you" as the water monster goes back to their base form, reunites with a bright orange hitodama and ascends to the sky.

The third enemy initially seems to be merely a giant magenta icosahedral gemstone —a bigger replica of the Phantom Ruby—, which seems to have someone sealed inside, and the environment is a simple circular arena with a bottomless pit in the centre. The gemstone rotates to point one of its vertices towards a fixed point in the void surrounding the battle arena, then the five faces that meet at that vertex open up like a flower, a cutting blast of radiation is fired from inside the gem (just like Ramiel opening up and firing its laser in the Rebuild of Evangelion movies), and this blast hits something invisible in that void, opening a fissure in the space-time fabric while an ethereal scream of agony is heard: the gemstone has just killed The Other End by actually cutting it in half and then letting it be sucked into a dimensional rift. After this, the gemstone closes again, positions itself above the hole in the centre of the arena, generates a vertical cylindrical shield and officially starts the battle against Tails.

In its 1st phase, the battle against the giant Phantom Ruby is pretty much like Phase 4-A of Star Dream Soul OS but with a few added elements from the battles against Mother Brain in Metroid 1 and Super Metroid. The Ruby summons pillars throughout the circular arena, which start moving along it; each pillar has a much smaller Phantom Ruby replica with the shape of some other regular polyhedra, which moves up and down and has to be destroyed in order to be able to get through the hole left by it; each of them also has weapons installed at the top and the base, one of them is a turret firing blaster shots, and the other is a cannon similar to the one on Mecha Sonic's chest firing energy rings (like Super Mecha Sonic when he's a couple of hits away from being defeated by Knuckles). Every time the Rubies of all pillars are destroyed, the Phantom Ruby gets rid of those damaged pillars and summons new ones, and these can also start moving in reverse or even close the distance between two of them in an attempt to crush Tails or force him to jump into the void; on the other hand, every time all pillars are neutralized, Tails can do some damage to the cylindrical shield while the Phantom Ruby is in the process of summoning new pillars. After destroying three sets of pillars —each with more of them than the last—, the 1st phase ends.

Additional notes: Phantom Ruby's 1st phase battle theme: either "Soul 0 System" from Planet Robobot, or Heart of Nova's remix "STAR NOVA SYSTEM" from SilvaGunner's album Super Star Symphony. The three sets total 20 pillars, and every time a pillar is neutralized, a needle pierces one of the faces of the Phantom Ruby. A disembodied voice (not The Other End's voice, but still familiar) does a countdown, starting at 20 at the beginning of the battle and going down as more faces of the Ruby are pierced by needles.

Once all pillars are destroyed, Tails manages to break the shield, but the giant Phantom Ruby moves higher, all the needles are removed and the Ruby opens up again (this time, the opening points upwards instead of towards the horizon) as the bottomless pit at the centre of the circular arena is covered over and made part of the arena. Crimson smoke emanates from the Phantom Ruby's exposed core and starts condensing until forming the body of a Mobian jackal: Infinite.

Infinite's moveset here is mostly just a rip-off of Galacta Knight's, including the Time-Border Great Slash Flash from Planet Robobot (opening a dimensional rift, referenced when the Phantom Ruby opens up for the 1st time and banishes/kills The Other End), but also has some stuff from the final boss fight against Raven Beak in Metroid Dread (I tried to think of a way to adapt the three actual boss fights against Infinite in Sonic Forces somehow, but two of them only work if the player's character is running, and all of them look kinda disappointing anyway).

Additional notes: Phantom Ruby's 2nd phase battle theme: any version of "The Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy".

When Tails lands the last hit on Infinite, the jackal turns into crimson smoke again and vanishes, but then reappears standing on top of the giant Phantom Ruby —which has moved back to its previous height—, starting the 3rd and last phase.

The battle's 3rd phase starts with Infinite —still standing on top of the Ruby— summoning a sequence of combinations of attacks taken from different boss fights: Infinite's moveset in his own 2nd boss fight in Sonic Forces, Galacta Knight's Revolution Sword, Energy Shower and Rising Spine, and Heartful Tears from Phase 4-B of Star Dream Soul OS. This is followed by more combinations of Galacta Knight's and Star Dream Soul OS's moves, where both Infinite and the Phantom Ruby enter the circular arena and move through it —usually being on opposite sides of the arena while moving— to attack Tails directly. The first sequence of attacks can be repeated at some point as well.

Additional notes: Phantom Ruby's 3rd phase battle theme: any version of "Vagrant Keepsake of Oblivion" (itself a part of "Vagrant Counting Song of Retrospection"), including the cover made by GaMetal and the remix "R-E-P-R-O-G-R-A-M" from Super Star Symphony.

When Infinite and the Phantom Ruby are one hit away from being defeated, the jackal transforms into crimson smoke once again and re-enters the Ruby, which then goes back to the centre of the arena and starts spinning in all planes of rotation while firing several successive triangular energy blasts from all of its faces, shooting lasers from all of its vertices and sometimes even shooting cutting blasts from all of its edges (a combination of Chaos Elfilis Phase 2's Planetarium Dream Tour —which is, in turn, based on Void Termina's Crown of Evil and Obsession—, Star Dream's Fatal Error, and Star Dream Soul OS's Heartless Tears), which Tails will have to quickly dodge and/or parry while trying to get closer to the Ruby. When Tails is close enough, the attack stops and all that's left in the centre is Infinite, who has a normal-sized Phantom Ruby embedded in his chest and looks like he's embarrassed and furious but also literally boiling on the inside and about to explode. Infinite desperately summons a massive energy polearm (which would be a mix between a poleaxe, a halberd, a spontoon/partisan, a voulge or couteau-de-brèche, and other real-life polearms) and tries to finish Tails off; if the player guards successfully, Tails uses his namesakes to parry Infinite's attack and snatch the polearm from his hands, and immediately uses it to accurately strike the Phantom Ruby, killing the jackal with his own weapon.

Infinite is thrown far from the arena and stays floating in the void, then starts convulsing and bouncing across the pocket dimension's space as he becomes more unstable and the Phantom Ruby's power is closer and closer to atomize both itself and its user. Eventually, both the Phantom Ruby and Infinite explode, flooding the entire place with light and leaving no remains afterwards.

Additional notes: Music for this scene: any version of "Kirby's Triumphant Return" (of course).

Tails wakes up back in Starfall Islands, where he has an emotive reunion with Sonic and their friends after the hedgehog came back from saving the world; the fox admits to his adoptive brother that he'd rather take a break from the action for a while —and Sonic accepts this without objection and supports Tails's decision—, but also assures the hedgehog that this isn't permanent and he's now much more certain of what he can and wants to do with his life. The story ends with Sonic piloting the Tornado for the first time since the events of Sonic 3 & Knuckles as Tails takes a well-deserved rest in the plane's backseat.

Additional notes: Ending theme: either Fuhi's mash-up of versions of the credits theme from Milky Way Wishes, or GaMetal's cover of "My Friend & the Sunset".

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction by mashounen #sonic frontiers #sonic frontiers dlc #miles tails prower #tails the fox #tails #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #kirby #kirby of the stars #hoshi no kirby #hoshi no kaabii #brainrot

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lokis-little-fawn · 3 years ago

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In My Carolina Mountain Home

My requests are open!

Paring: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.9k

Summary: After Loki finds himself being hunted by the TVA he becomes trapped in the mountains with a beautiful mortal stranger. Will he reciprocate your feelings for him?

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, Christmas themes (just Incase anyone really hates Christmas)

Original request by: @dragodragonborn

Hi I was wondering if you could do a loki x reader where instead of teleporting into the desert and being taken by the Time variance authority. He is instead teleported to a small farm in the Carolina mountains where he hides from shield and falls for the person that lives there. I would love for the person to be southern and since I am southern I can help with cultural and language stuff if you need it.

Reply: Thank you so much for your request! I loved writing it and I hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I tried my best with the southern language but I'm from the UK so its probably not great (imagine a female Tom/Loki, thats how I sound). But anyway I really hope you like it!

Loki landed feet first in the mountainous forrest, the steep landscape covered by a canopy of trees that almost blocks out the sky. The fall out of twigs and branches covering the floor underneath the souls of his large leather boots.

His chest rises and falls recovering from his tense landing, his mouth covered by a metallic mask making his breathing extensively laboured. In his still cuffed hands lies a blue glowing cube, the tesseract. His hands gripping onto it for dear life, his knuckles whitening with pressure around it, his mind running wild over how much stress and terror he has endured for this moment.

From a few metres away he see’s a glowing rectangular light and what appears to be soldiers stepping through it, tearing him from his wavering thoughts.

“Appears to be a standard sequence violation�� The tall woman’s voice announces to her fellow soldiers as Loki works to blend in as well as he can with his surroundings, hiding the tesseract within a secret compartment in his cape.

“Branch is growing at a stable rate and slope, variant identified” she continues as Loki peers slyly around the tree he has hidden himself behind.

“Loki Odinson, another Loki? Really?” She asks herself in an exacerbated tone. Loki’s face spreading with immediate concern as the idea of other Loki’s and what that statement meant exactly.

“Find him” she says as the other soldiers around her begin to scour the area for him, black batons with glowing tips in hand as they look.

Immediately Loki begins to look for a way out, any way out. He’s still in possession of the tesseract but after all he’s been through, he’s doubtful that he has the strength to use it. Looking up to the almost completely tree covered sky he see’s a line of smoke, he assumes that it must be coming from a near by chimney or at least a bonfire as in the open autumnal forest the weather is cold to say the least.

He begins to make his way up the slope of the mountainous forest, running as silently as he can trying not to bring attention to himself with the sound of snapping twigs and branches underfoot. Thankful that his colour of choice is a beautiful emerald green with dark leather armour covering his body he blends into his surroundings almost seamlessly.

After a while of running he finally arrives at his destination, thankful that it was not quite at the top of the mountain. As he makes his way into the clearing in front of the house he spots another soldier out of the corner of his eye. Rushing to the back of the wood and stone cottage he swiftly breaks a window with his elbow as silently as he can, climbing through it and landing with a thud on the floor of a homely looking bedroom.

Hearing soldiers walking past his newly broken window he uses his waining powers to place a glamour on the window making it appear unbroken. After the sound of the soldiers footsteps retreating he makes his way out of the bedroom and into the large living room. A fire is lit inside of a large stone fireplace, the sound of someone inside the house cooking becomes apparent as the smell of food hits him.

Dancing in the kitchen to the radio stands a woman wearing comfortable looking pyjamas, her hair pushed back into a pony tail as she sings along to the music while cooking something on an old fashioned Aga. Walking quietly into the doorway of the kitchen his footsteps cause the wooden floor to creek under his weight. Belting out the words to dancing queen by ABBA she barely noticed the sound of Loki standing behind her, it was only when she spun to the tempo of the music that she saw him towering over her.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house” you shout, immediately going to grab a knife from the draw in the kitchen.

Loki blocks you before you can get there, backing you into a corner, even with his cuffed hands and masked mouth he looks terrifying, if anything the restraints are making him even more intimidating.

Through the mask he tries to mumble something that vaguely sounds like “I don’t want to hurt you, I’m not going to hurt you” before he hangs his head looking frustrated with the device blocking his mouth.

“Can I help you take that off?” You ask in a trembling tone, gesturing to the mask. Loki nods as you reach around to press a release button on the back of the mask as it immediately falls free into your hands.

“Thank you” he says while readjusting his jaw, his accent thick as you come to the realisation of who he is.

“You.. your the alien on TV, your Thor’s brother. Your a murderer!” You say as you try and squirm away from him, pushing against his strong chest.

“Thor’s brother is not exactly the claim I was hoping to be known for. I am Loki, prince of Asgard” he says looking regal as he puffs out his chest to look even larger than before.

“But you are a murderer, everyone’s seen it, your face is plastered all over the news” you state while looking around for any possible way out.

“That was also not my true intent, but yes” he says looking slightly ashamed as his cuffed hands press into your hips, holding you in place.

“And right now there are some soldiers after me, I am unsure if their identity’s but I would be most grateful if you were to hide me in your humble dwelling” he continues with a firmness that indicates that he is not asking for permission, he’s telling you, he’s staying.

Just as the words slip from his mouth a firm knock is placed against the front door, the sound echoing through the now silent kitchen.

Loki places a finger to his lips with his cuffed hands and shushes you as you make your way towards the wooden door.

“Stay calm little mortal, they can’t know that I’m here” he whispers as he hides behind the door as you pull it open to great the soldiers on the other side.

“Hello?” You say, opening the door only a little more than crack.

“Good evening, we are looking for the variant known as Loki Odinson” the soldier starts.

“He’s been spotted in the area, have you seen this man?” She asks as she produces a hologram of him from a strap around her wrist. The hologram shows an exact image of the man that now stands silently hiding behind your open front door.

“Really? Him, all the way up here?” You say sounding as surprised as you can muster while essentially behind held hostage in your own house.

“Yes ma’am, an agent of ours spotted him somewhere around your property” the soldier says assertively.

“I haven’t seen him, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help but if you have a number I can call I’ll let you know if I see him” you say, half hoping that the soldier might see your nervousness and ask to come inside.

“No need ma’am, thank you for your assistance” the soldier says as they walk away from the door.

“Okay, bye then” you say as you close the door. Loki pushes you to the side slightly and peers through the peep hole in the door, watching the soldiers retreating back into the woods.

“Well done little mortal, you were almost convincing” he says with a mocking tone.

“Now if you could just help me out if these handcuffs I’ll be on my way” he states quietly, gesturing to the restraints.

“No, absolutely not. I will not let a murderer free in my house! And besides, I don’t have a key” you say heatedly, standing in the middle of your living room, the fire crackling away to the side of you.

“Fine” he says in a pointed tone as an awkward silence spreads around the room.

The sound of the pot on the hob in the kitchen boiling over breaks the silence.

“Shit! My soup!” You say running back into the kitchen, leaving loki laughing to himself quietly amused by your quickly shifting concentration.

“No, it’s ruined! I spent ages making this” you say fustraitedly to yourself as Loki follows you quietly into the kitchen.

“A great tragedy honestly” he mocks.

“I’d like to see you do better, I doubt you even know how to cook your highness” you say as you lightly bow to him, in a playful manner. Loki stands watching you, surprised at your boldness towards a man you’d so recently called a murderer while entertained by you teasing him.

“You’d be correct in your assumption that I do not know how to cook, but I would be honoured to share some of your highly questionable soup with you, if you would be so kind” he says sweetly.

Smiling up at him you take the pot off the heat and stir it, you grab two mugs from the cupboard and pour the soup into them, handing one to Loki.

“Surely this is not the civilised way of eating this, I knew your planet was primitive but I assumed you would have at least invented the bowl by now” he teases.

“Sure, I’d love to see you try and eat soup with a spoon in handcuffs” you say as you grab a spoon, holding it up to him as he takes a sip comically loudly from the mug.

“On second thought, this will suffice” he says looking down at you as you place the spoon back onto the counter.

Walking back into the living room you sit down on the sofa facing the fire, Loki joins you sitting by your side as your knees almost touch on your small couch.

“This is lovely, thank you” he says softly, he realises that over the last few months he’d barely had time to eat. Now sitting in front of the fire he was utterly exhausted, the warmth immediately causing him to relax for the first time in weeks, maybe even months.

As you both finish your soup you place it down on the small table in-front of you.

“I guess I should get going” he says as he goes to stand.

“Wait, you look tired. If you want to, you can stay. It’s not like I have much company up here and besides, it’s quite nice having a visitor” you say placing a hand on his knee stopping him in his tracks as he hides how startled he is by the contact.

“Thank you for the offer, but I must be leaving” he says as he stands, walking swiftly towards the door. As he makes it to the door he looks once again through the peep hole, through the door he can see soldiers hidden in the woods, clearly still waiting for him to make an appearance.

With the door handle in his strong hand he stands unsure of his next move, his only choices being to either fight his way out or to stay. In his mind the choice is clear, he wants to stay. But having broken into your house and taking you momentarily hostage and potentially taking advantage of your isolation this far up in the mountains, he’s unsure of what he should do.

“They’re still out there huh?” You say, still sitting on the sofa.

“I’ll grab you some blankets” you say as you walk out into your bedroom, grabbing a bundle of soft pink wool blankets and a pillow from your bed for him.

As you walk back into the room you see him sitting on the sofa, his leather covered legs splayed open and his head in his hands.

“Here you go” you say as you put them down next to him, he jumps at your words clearly tired and startled by you.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Also, my name is Y/N by the way, I think I’ll answer to it better than ‘mortal’” you say jokingly.

“Thank you Y/N, goodnight” he says, his deep voice sending shivers through you as you make your way into your bedroom and getting into bed before falling swiftly asleep.

Waking up in the morning you almost forget about the murderous prince asleep on your sofa. It’s only when you open your bedroom curtains and you see some fairly frantic looking soldiers still scanning the area further down the mountain that the memories come flooding back.

Making your way quietly into the living room you see Loki asleep on the sofa. The fire has burned down to embers and for some reason Loki has remained wearing his full armour to bed.

You walk over to him and sit on your knees quietly on the floor next to him. Looking over him in the morning light you see that his armour is scratched and the cape attached to his back that is now wrapped around him is torn. Further more the few parts of visible skin are bleeding, little cuts littered over his hands and face.

“It’s impolite to stare” he says making you jump, you had wrongly assumed that he was still asleep.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to see if you were alright” you say.

“Did you really sleep in all that? Surely that can’t be comfortable” you continue as Loki sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes as they adjust to the light of the living room.

“I didn’t have many other options, also I thought it improper to sleep exposed in the presence of the woman who I have so recently accosted” he says in a firm but sleepy tone.

“They’re still outside, if your going to stay we need to find you some clothes” you start, your fingers going to stroke down the soft material of his cape.

“Living up here I make all of my own clothes, I’m sure I can make you something from all this bulk” you say gesturing to his ensemble.

“Absolutely not, this is fine Asgardian leather, I will not have you deface it” he says immediately becoming defensive of his otherworldly clothing.

“Let me have a look, I might have something of my dads in storage that will fit you” you say as you walk into your bedroom, digging through the storage boxes pushed right to the back. Eventually you pull out a pair of black jeans and a matching green and black plaid shirt, you thought it was fitting as it mostly matched his current colours.

“Here, try this on” you say handing him the clothes.

“Do you need help getting out of that? It looks complicated and your hands are still cuffed” you ask. With a swift gesture his hands are released from the cuffs, a gasp leaves your mouth as you step away from him slightly as you realise he could now do anything he wanted.

“H..how did you do that? Why didn’t you do that before?” You ask, now worried for your life slightly.

“I used my magic. I was exhausted last night, too tired to use my powers. I also assumed that keeping myself in a state you saw as helpless may make you more comfortable” he says as he rubs the skin on his wrists that were previously covered by metal.

“But I could still use your assistance, as you said this armour is quite complicated” he says gesturing for you to help him. Pointing to parts of the armour he explains how to undo it, as you untie parts of the armour you are hit by the scent of him, a leather and pine mixture that makes you think of Christmas. This continues for a while until he is left standing topless in your living room. Only when your wandering eyes have taken in his unique form towering over you, do you see the bruises. They almost completely cover his toned torso, the cuts you saw earlier also appear worse than you first thought.

“Loki, this looks awful aren’t you in pain? Hold on, I’ll get something to clean your cuts with” you say as your hand reaches out, stopping yourself just before your finger tips hit the skin of his injured chest.

“Sit down” you say pointing to the sofa as he re-emerge from the bathroom, anti bacterial ointment in hand, Loki remains silent.

“Tell me if I hurt you” you say as you begin rubbing the ointment onto his cuts.

“That’s bold of you to assume that you could hurt me little morta..Y/N” he stops himself just before calling you mortal again, earning him a soft sarcastic smile from you.

After a while of cleaning him with the occasional flinch on his part, you finish.

“All done, I’ll run you a bath, you look like you need it” you say to him, walking back into the bathroom with the ointment and bloodied cotton buds in hand, disposing of them in the bathroom bin.

Running the taps you make it nice and warm, you even add some bubbles in for extra fun, god knows after everything you’ve seen on the news he looks like he could use some fun.

“It’s just through there” you point to the bathroom door, handing him the clean clothes you found.

“You don’t need to do this for me, I broke into your dwelling and now your caring for me, you don’t have to” he says, looking uneasy at the idea of having someone looking after him after all of the atrocities he knows you and your people have seen him commit.

“But I want to” you say as you hand him the clothes. You show him around the bathroom, showing him where all of your products are and where the towels are before leaving him alone in the bathroom.

While he takes a long bath you tidy the kitchen and living room, folding the sheets on the sofa into a neat pile. You take out some leather polish and clean the armour you had removed from him in the living room, afterwards hanging it up delicately in the wardrobe. Almost an hour later he comes out of the bathroom, his tattered Asgardian armour in his arms, the clothing you had given him fitting almost perfectly.

“I was unsure where to leave this, but your Midgardian clothing seems suitable” he says holding the remainder of his folded armour tightly.

“I cleaned the rest of it, I’ll fix this for you too” you say.

“There’s not a lot to do up here so this gives me some kind of entertainment at least” you say, earning a smile from him.

As the day moves on you fix his armour and hang it up with the rest of it in the cupboard. You show Loki what the TV is assuming that he’s never watched it before. Startlingly his face is once again everywhere, the escaped fugitive that is residing in your house looking ashamed every time footage of him in New York is shown. Eventually you change channels and watch some films, you start by showing him films that represent earths history, but eventually you end up showing him things like Harry Potter which leads to him critiquing every spell and potion. He shows you the proper way to do the spells in the films, your favourite being the fireworks he summons in his hands during the scene where Weasley brothers set off fireworks in the grand hall.

You make food together and after food and some more films, you fall asleep on the sofa together.

The next few months continued like this, the soldiers outside unrelenting holding you both in the house. Alone, you’d take the long trip into town for more supplies, Loki remains silent in the house while your gone, most times reading or practicing his spells.

When you’d return he’d help you unpack and you’d play any new board games you brought back. At night when the soldiers retreated back to their headquarters Loki would cut logs for the fire and generally help out around the house. Despite all of this and your ever growing closeness, he had never kissed you. Every day you felt yourself falling for him more and more and you were certain that he felt the same way. You’d catch his eyes lingering on you longingly and you’d wake up in his arms after falling asleep on him with his hands stroking your hair, still you wished for more.

As autumn moved to winter you found yourself explaining earthly traditions to the god you’d grown so close to. While decorating for Christmas you compare winter holidays. One night under the cover of darkness Loki went out with a hand saw and cut down a large pine tree. It must have been at least six foot tall as it was taller than him and was almost too tall for the ceilings in your, now shared, little cottage.

“Your Christmas is close to our Yule, in fact I believe it was Odin that introduced it to you morta.. your people” he says, as always slipping up and calling humans ‘mortals’.

“You decorate with boughs of evergreens, have feasts and ritual sacrifices, for once I am impressed with your species” he continues while hanging the vintage Christmas ornaments onto the trees green covered branches.

“Okay we do not have ‘ritual sacrifices’ Loki, we eat turkey” you reply, wrapping tinsel and checking the twinkling Christmas lights.

“I admit the ritual sacrifices were phased out decades ago even in Asgard. Odin realised that ritually sacrificing the people in his kingdom unsurprisingly leads to less people to rule over” he jokes as you continue decorating together, you place a decorated pine garland over the fireplace.

“Do you hang mistletoe in Asgard?” You ask shyly, your cheeks immediately feeling flushed.

“Yes, we believe that it contains the power of resurrection, we hang it during Yule for good health” he states, not indicating that it had any other meaning in Asgard.

“Would you like to hang some for me? I can’t reach that high” you say while holding some tied with a red bow around the stalk.

“Of course my darling” he says sweetly as he takes it from your hands and delicately pins it to the wooden beams of the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.

“Loki, Can I show you one of our traditions?” You ask shyly, playing with the silver bracelet around your wrist nervously as you walk over to him, joining him underneath the mistletoe. He nods quietly in reply.

You place your hands softly on his chest, stepping towards him with your bodies almost pressed together as you look up at him. Standing on your tip toes you reach up to him, your hand slips around to the back of his neck pulling him down to you slightly. You place a soft peck onto his lips as he bends down to meet you, once parted your eyelashes flutter open, Loki’s eyes scan your face quickly. He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer, bending down further to meet your lips once again, placing a more heated kiss onto you. He pushes you backwards lightly until your back touches the door frame, his hands moving from your waist to cup your face in his large hands. After a few more heated kisses he pulls away, worried that he may have over stepped.

“I take it that this tradition is something done between friends?” He questions, his voice holding a hopeful tone for more.

“I’d say that kissing just a friend underneath mistletoe, means that your not really friends at all. It’s more of a tradition between lovers” you say shyly, your cheeks turning a bright shade of crimson while still rested in his palm.

“And you want to partake in this tradition with me because..” he trails off as one of his arms wraps around you while the other sweeps hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Be.. because I want you.. not as a friend..” your words instantly cut off by Loki’s lips once again on yours, your kisses more frenzied and clumsy this time. The tension that had built up between you over the last few weeks finally unleashing itself in your kiss. Your lips colliding as teeth graze each other, nipping and pulling at the sensitive flesh before he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your hand behind his neck pulls him in as closely as possible while your other hand wraps around his waist.

With a sudden movement he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the soft sofa in front of the warm fire.

Placing you down on the sofa he pushes his body on top of yours, his muscular form firm against you as you work to undo the buttons of his shirt between the heated exchange of kisses. As his shirt falls open he slides the shirt off over his back, throwing it to the ground before he slips your dress off over your head leaving you wearing nothing but your red matching underwear set. You’d seen him use his magic to change clothes before, you know that by not using his magic he is purposefully savouring the moment, burning this image of you lying below him into his mind forever.

His kisses travel down your neck leaving a trail of love bites in his wake, your hands glide through his soft black hair. As he reaches the soft fabric of your bra he pulls the straps down your arms, briskly unclasping the fastening with his other hand as he pulls it from your body, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.

His mouth darts to the peak of your breast, pulling your pebbled nipple into his mouth. He kisses and lightly nips at the bud earning the first of many moans from you, the sound only encouraging Loki as his hands trace your sides making you jump in response. Your hips moving in desperate need for friction as you feel your wetness rapidly growing, you’d fantasised about this moment for what felt like forever and now with his lips traveling rapidly down your body you knew he had too.

Kissing down to your lace covered heat he places one kiss onto your clit through your panties before pulling them down over your legs. His mouth instantly replacing your panties over your heat, his tongue darting around your entrance like a man starved as his hands grip around the outside of your thighs.

You moan out his name as you run your fingers through his soft obsidian tendrils that have fallen to cover his face. Moaning into your heat his pressure on your clit increases and your grip in his hair tenses, your thighs tightening in pleasure.

“Fuck” Loki sighs out while placing more fevered licks to your clit.

“Open wider love, let me taste you” he says using his firm grip on your thighs to spread your legs wider.

You can already feel your climax building as a hand from your thigh slips around to your entrance, sliding one long dexterous finger inside of you. Curling within you he feels your hips grind for more friction, your moans of pleasure filling the quiet room as his tongue flicks swift circles over your sensitive bud. Pushing a second finger inside of you sends you over the edge, your climax already washing over you as you try and warn him.

“L..Loki.. I.. I’m..’ you breath out as you climax, his relentless movements continuing as you ride out your high on his tongue and fingers.

Breathing heavily Loki kisses back up your body, his fingers still curling within you. As he moves you see the outline of his clearly hardened length straining against the fabric of his trousers, your eyes follow him as he kisses back up your neck, your hands grazing over his muscular chest.

Pressing fevered kisses onto your lips he removes his fingers from your heat, grinding his covered length against your clit, moaning in unison into your kiss. The vibration of Loki’s low growls making your heat throb for attention as he grinds into you.

Reaching down, with frantic hands you unbutton his now dampened trousers, his length springing free, the weight of him falling onto your lower stomach coating your skin with pre cum.

Grinding against you once again you feel the warmth of his length grazing harshly against your clit, moaning into his kiss at the feeling. Your legs spreading wider at the sensation, wrapping them around his waist. Taking his length into his hand he slides his tip through your sensitive folds teasingly, your certain that he knows how desperate you are for him by now, but he wants to hear your desperation.

“Please Loki.. please fuck me” you beg as your hands grip onto his shoulders.

“Mhm, I adore the way you beg for me sweet thing” he growls as he pushes his tip slowly into your entrance as you moan in mutual bliss.

His large length feeling as if he was splitting you in two, your breathing laboured as you adjust to his size.

“Relax for me love, I’ll make you feel as if you’ve reached Valhalla” he whispers as he kisses down your neck, sliding deeper into you as he begins to thrust.

Your nails dig lightly into his back as you moan in complete ecstasy, his kisses on your neck turn to bites as his pace increases. Hooking his hand underneath your thigh he places one of your legs over his shoulder, his length hitting spots within you that you didn’t even know you had causing you to cry out his name.

Bottoming out inside you he hisses at the sensation, your sensitive bud grazes against his pelvis causing you to tighten around him, feeling your second climax already building.

“Hells, your so tight for me princess, you fit me like a glove” he groans feeling his own climax building from deep inside of your velvet walls.

You moan at his words as he slips your other leg over his shoulder, pushing your knees towards either side of your head on the couch. His thrusts growing more erratic as he places another fevered kiss onto your lips as his tongue slips into your mouth, your mutual moans vibrating throughout your frenzied kiss.

Reaching down he circles your clit with his fingers, encouraging your second climax.

“Cum for me sweet thing, I want to watch you cum on my cock” he orders as you giggle internally at his use of such a word that you thought was only used on earth.

With his fingers pressing firm circles into your clit, you feel your orgasm approaching, your wanton whines urging him to move faster. The sounds of his deep licentious moans only pushing you further into ecstatic release.

Your orgasm is pulled from you fiercely as you tighten around his length, your nails digging into his back as you climax. Feeling your release beneath him he cums within your velvet walls, coating you with his essence, moaning into your kiss as you ride out your mutual high.

He releases your legs from his shoulders as he continues to kiss you, your foreheads presses together as you regain your breaths.

Placing one last kiss onto your lips he pulls out of you, slipping to your side as he pulls you into his arms, with a wave of his hand he summons a blanket to cover you both lying on the sofa in front of the fire.

“I’ve longed for you for the moment we met darling” Loki confesses as he places a kiss onto your lips, his fingers tracing the length of your spine.

“All I’ve wanted was you, this was also the best Christmas decorating session I’ve ever had” you say jokingly.

“Darling you’re the best Yule gift I have ever received, and also the best birthday gift” he says, his other hand brushing the hair from your face between delicate kisses.

“What do you mean? Loki it’s not your birthday is it?” You question playfully.

“It is darling, although my birth has never been a cause I willingly celebrate” he states plainly.

“I’m making you a cake in the morning, you will have candles and.. how old are you?” You ask inquisitively.

“I am somewhere over a thousand, after a few hundred birthdays the novelty somewhat wears off” he replies.

“I don’t think I have that many candles, we might have to make do with one candle for every centennial” you say jokingly.

“Also I may have another confession to make” he says, your face spreading with immediate concern.

“What is it Loki?” You ask, backing away slightly to see his face clearly, but his nose still pressed softly against yours.

“I wanted to stay and after I was healed I was running out of reasons to remain with you here. So I may have placed a glamour for it to appear that the soldiers never left.. it was only for a few weeks I promise… a month maximum” he says, visibly embarrassed as his cheeks turn red, beneath the embarrassment he looks worried to hear your response.

“Loki!” You say playfully slapping his chest.

“So what your telling me is that instead of admitting your feelings for me you effectively trapped us in the house under the premise that you were being hunted?” You say, he nods in response.

“That explains why the vanished every night! Because you fell asleep! Loki oh my god!” You say as you cover your hands with your face.

“I understand if your angry with me sweet thing” he says, his voice wavering slightly.

“I’m not angry with you Loki, I wished they’d leave but I was always happy they were there because it meant I had more time with you” you say as he pulls your hands from your face and kisses you again.

“I just wanted you, I’ve fallen for you completely darling” he says nervously as the fire cracks in the background.

“All I ever wanted was you Loki, you great Asgardian idiot” you say kissing him back.

You fall asleep on the sofa in each other’s arms, legs intertwined. Deep in slumber as for the first time in weeks you no longer worry about loosing him at any given moment, at least to this threat. Your thoughts filled with images that you can finally see coming true before you as your handsome god holds you closely whispering sweet words of love into your ear between dreams.

Tag list: @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @vbecker10 @virtualstrawberrydinosaur

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vinnieswife · 4 years ago

Text

Dirty Secret

Vinnie hacker x reader

Words: 1794

Warnings: smut

Vinnie had that look in his eyes, that look that pierced your soul making your head spin, making your panties wet in seconds, just the idea of him on top of you, kissing every part of your skin, his hands tracing each curve of your body, making small waves of pleasure reach your senses.

Vinnie began to approach you, his gaze fixed on you, without deviating for a second, when he finally arrived at his destination his hands traveled to your hips tracing soft circles on the fabric of your shirt.

"Hello Princess"

"Hi Vin ... what is that look?" You asked with curiosity, even though you already knew the answer, you wanted to know how far he would speak.

"Oh you know exactly what it is" oh hell you did, you knew that look better than anyone.

"I really don't know Vin"

He grabbed your hips drawing you closer to him, when he did that you perfectly felt his erection against your thigh, one of his hands flying up your throat, sticking his mouth to your ear.

"This look princess, says that I want to fuck you until the sun rises and continue after that, that I want to make you scream and moan my name until you can't anymore, that I want to fill you with pleasure even knowing that I will pay dearly and that I want to see how you fall apart in my arms because it's too much pleasure" oh shit, his dirty talk was something that you could never eliminate the effect it has on you, his mouth dropped just a few inches to leave a wet kiss on your neck, sucking to leave a mark.

"I have an idea" he put that smirk on his face, indicating that it was something dirty, Vinnie and you had a pleasant sex life, but when he had that look the night would be wild, hard and even exhausted.

His hands caressed your arms gently, feeling your warm skin gently, his fingers found their way to your breasts, caressing them over the fabric of your shirt, he played with your nipples, pinching them slightly, making you throw your head back, your neck exposed to him, he grabbed the hem of your shirt moving it up, detaching it from your body completely, your nipples erect from the cold air hitting them.

His lips made contact with your neck, leaving marks and bites on their way down, his kisses down your collarbone to your shoulder biting lightly in the area, his eyes made contact with your breasts as he licked his lips. He lifted his head, leaving you somewhat confused by not feeling the touch of his tongue on your nipple.

"Lie on the bed princess" if hands were placed on your lower back as you both walked to the bed.

You lay down as he ordered, when your bare back touched the cold sheets of his bed a chill ran through your body.

"Too cold love?" He laughed, while your brow furrowed.

"Have I never told you my dirty secret?" You shook your head, thinking what it could be.

"It is something simple, pleasant, even exciting, to have you at my mercy every second, without knowing what my next move will be, your hands tied against the head of the bed, your body trembling, your agitated breaths flood the atmosphere of the room, while a blindfold covers your eyes from any type of vision, your skin bristling at each of my caresses, and your body responding to each little spasm of pleasure pulling the handcuffs, that is my secret ..." his eyes did not leave yours in the whole time he was speaking, each of his words making you wetter every second, his gaze remained fixed on yours waiting for an answer.

All this you just swallowed dry, looking at how his pupils were so dilated that his eyes were completely dark, lust and heat running through his veins. Without thinking twice he grabbed your throat and I kiss you, he kiss you like never before, with such passion that you could barely keep up with him, his tongue made its way into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, pulling a moan from your mouth, when you both separated your breaths were shaky and agitated.

His hands stroked your arms down until the tips of his fingers reached your wrists, grabbing them and placing them at the height of your head, he got up from the bed, looking for something in his closet, he took out a small black bag, the metallic sound echoing in the small atmosphere of the room. He undid the bag knot, taking out small handcuffs with a pad in the wrist area.

"Are you ready?" He whispered, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

"Yes.."

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir"

"Good girl"

He fitted the pieces of the handcuffs, placing the area with protection over your wrists, and fitting the other part to the headboard, your hands stretched over your head, a chill ran down your spine, Vinnie slid his hands down, getting rid of your shorts, sliding them slowly down your legs, which detached the piece of clothes from your body, he separated your legs, noticing the small wet patch that has formed in your panties, he smiled extending a hand to the bedside table, to taking out a blindfold from one of the drawers, your eyes widened, following each of the movements of the man in front of you, he placed the blindfold over your eyes passing the tape behind your head, he caressed your cheeks leaving a soft kiss in your lips.

"Now that you are at my mercy, what should I do with you?" He asked aloud, his hand caressing your ribs getting a gasp escaping from your mouth.

"Vinnie please ..." he smiles but you can't see it, he got out of bed once more, you heard him unzip his jacket, letting it fall to the floor, you also heard his steps moving away and how he He opened the door to your room, there were a few minutes when you didn't hear any sound, until the door opened again, and he placed an object on the nightstand.

His hands caressed the sides of your waist, moving up to your hips giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Oh love you have no idea what comes next"

"W-what ...? What do you want to say- "A gasp is the hood of your lips when you notice something very cold in your abdomen, an ice cube, he took the piece of ice between his fingers again, passing it over your abdomen causing you to twist, pulling the handcuffs, his hand rose to the valley of your breasts, passing the ice over your breasts, he was quiet for a moment thinking about his next step, which was to put the ice directly on your nipple, generating a great moan from you, Vinnie began to move the ice in circular shapes over your nipples, changing from one to the other, making more or less pressure depending on how you want.

When the ice completely melted, his tongue found your nipple, sucking on and lightly biting the little bud, your wrists sore as he pulled the cuffs every time his tongue made contact with your skin.

His kisses descended back to your sex, his hands slid the fine fabric of your panties to the end of your legs, leaving you completely naked.

"Are you so wet from my darling?" I have smirks caressing your thighs.

He placed your legs on his shoulders, stroking the back of your thighs, his mouth attacking your clit flicking his tongue at a fast pace, moving his tongue from side to side, sucking hard, making you throw your head back, desperate to not be able to see absolutely nothing.

"Vin please ... let me see you"

"Not yet love"

His tongue gave small thrusts to your core, leaving you in a state of pure ecstasy.

His fingers quickly found their way to your center, while his tongue rose up to your clit giving it slight twists, the tips of his fingers played with your input for several minutes that seemed like hours.

"Please ..." that's when Vinnie inserted his fingers into your entrance, moving them in and out at a rapid pace, your moans echoing through the room, making his dick incredibly uncomfortable in his pants, your body began to squirm on top of it. bed, making Vinnie grab your hips, pinning against the mattress with his free hand, the knot in your stomach was tighter every watch, getting closer and closer to your release, his fingers increased even more the lunge rite making you the few movements you came on his fingers.

"Such a good girl ..." His tongue wiped every drop of your juices on his fingers and on your sex, Vinnie smiled and licked his lips at the taste.

"Are you going to help me now princess?" You fervently nodded your head.

Vinnie got rid of his shirt, pulling it over his head by throwing it around the room, next were his pants, unbuckled his belt by pulling it to the side, unbuttoned the button and unzipped it, his alley pants at his ankles, He grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, leaving him completely naked, even though you couldn't see anything.

You felt like the mattress around you sank indicating that he had placed himself on you, the back of his hand caressed your cheek and his lips left a kiss on your forehead, the same hand that caressed your cheek took care of the edge of the mask sliding it up, allowing you to see again.

"Hello..."

"Hi" you smiled, the look in his eyes was no longer lust but one full of love, seeing your eyes again, your expressions, just drove him crazy.

He kiss your lips gently, and you tugged at the handcuffs.

"Uh, uh, not yet love"

"B-but"

"Shh" and I kiss your lips again.

Vinnie aligned his tip with your entrance, slowly inserting himself inside you, watching you bite your lip and throw your head back in pleasure.

His pace was slow but surprisingly pleasant, the more sow he was, his rhythm rose and his thrusts became more careless.

"Vin ... I'm close"

"Ah I know baby ... I know"

You clench around him, making him groan in pure extasy, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his heavy breathing echoed in your ear, you pulled the handcuffs that were holding your hands as you came on his cock, causing his orgasm right after yours, his head fell into the crook of your neck, both of you gasping for air.

"You are such a good girl for me, don't ya?"

Dont reblog my work

#cute imagine #cute #fluff imagine #soft imagine #vinnie hacker #tiktok imagine #tiktok #smut imagine #vinnie hacker imagine #hot #Vinnie hacker smut #Vinnie hacker x reader #Bryce hall #TikTok #cute Vinnie #vinnie hacker tiktok

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apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago

Note

okay but imagine edgy!karl but with the spice of closer by nine inch nails just a thought

EVERYONE: WE'RE TAKING THE SONG AT FACE VALUE CHILLAX

edit by 🍭 anon. step on me.

𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞: "... 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋..." | 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐲!𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥

link for Closer by NIN

warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, vulgar language, temperature play, degradation, domination/submission, phone sex, mentions of alcohol and drinking, frat boys, smoking (inc. weed)

enjoy these vignettes of straight-up filth

other requests:

sorry no thoughts just edgy karl in a band. in all seriousness though i would kill for a band au with anyone

edgy!karl and like temp play? his tongue piercing got extra cold from the ice in his drink or something and then kisses the readers neck or something and the reader shivers and then he gets ~ideas~

sitting on edgy!karls leg in front of the whole frat, just a normal get together until karl starts bouncing his leg

In honor of me losing my voice for 3 days now, can we have Edgy!Karl reacting to you losing your voice because of him? I've said my piece -🍭

Ahhhhh okay so I had this dream where it was edgy Karl but the reader was riding him while he had his arms crossed behind his head and he was smoking a cigarette and just AHHHH. Can you extend on this pwease? :3 -🐙

mk hear me out, edgy karl. Phone sex ?

do you think that for your edgy! Karl fic we could get some more sub! Karl like he gets so drunk and all he wants to do is please the reader - 🥪

intoxicated seggs with karl (obviously not blackout drunk, fully consensual etc)

You weren’t sure how you ended up where you were, or even how Karl ended up where he was, on stage with a guitar slung over his shoulder as if it were made for him. He had gotten a call earlier in the night from a friend of his whose guitarist came down with the flu, and Karl was the only one he knew who could take over on such short notice.

You weren’t even aware he could play, let alone how good he would look in a torn-up t-shirt, lip ring caught between his teeth as he mindlessly strummed along to the music, sweat pooling at his temples from the lights and the exertion. His eyes always darted to you, looking for your flushed appearance as floods of dark themes flooded into your consciousness.

Girls were practically throwing themselves at him, yet with you in the crowd, his lust-blown pupils marked you as his target. As the set drew on, Karl sipped from a beer like the rest of the band, a cigarette dangling from his lips as clouds of smoke mixed into the air of fog. Finally, a cover song came on, one that you knew well. Its heavy beat served as the background music as memories flooded into your mind from when the song had played for the two in the past...

YOU LET ME VIOLATE YOU / YOU LET ME DESECRATE YOU ... YOU LET ME COMPLICATE YOU

You poured yourself a drink as Karl stood beside you, popping an ice cube in his mouth. It was your roommate’s birthday; nothing but a small gathering with a handful of your friends and some music. “Are you iron deficient, Karl?” You queried sarcastically, a nod to his ice chewing habits and a strange visit from your family members.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I already told your grandmother that I’m fine,” he grumbled, teeth crunching down on the cube as if to demolish the story, making you giggle. He moved to step around you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his tongue ring grazing against your skin. You bit back a moan, body shivering at the feeling and he chuckled against your shoulder. “You like that, baby?” He mocked; voice husky at his realization that such a little action could get you excited so easily.

Later that night, Karl traced a path down your body with an ice cube between his pearly white teeth, grey irises watching your every reaction as he stopped at the hemline of your underpants. He traced a line down the lacy garment as you arched your back before pushing himself up on his arms and pushing the cube into your mouth. “Hold that for me, pet,” he stated, breath hot against your cold, wet skin, begging to be touched. His tongue dragged across your collarbones, the cool of the metal in his mouth making you moan around the ice in your mouth, grinding your hips against his.

As his cold mouth pressed against your inner thighs, you bit down on the cube, shattering it in your mouth as Karl chuckled. “We’re gonna have a fun night,” he promised, cold teeth nipping at your flesh to make you whimper.

I’VE GOT NO SOUL TO SELL … HELP ME GET AWAY FROM MYSELF

The club bathroom was dingy and dimly lit, but the cleanliness was the last thing on your mind as your fingers curled around the skin, Karl’s hand wrapped around your throat as he thrust into you roughly. Your makeup was running down your face from his spit and your sweat. The bass of the music was loud enough that it echoed around in the bathroom, setting Karl’s rhythm to his animalistic paces.

You smiled lazily, bliss covering your fucked out expression as he smirked at you in the reflection of the mirror with pride to see you in such a mess at his antics. His blunt nails dug into your hip, slamming your body against him as he used you like some kind of toy. His hand controlled your breathing, making you gasp for air as you rolled your hips against him, calling out his name loud enough to ricochet around the room.

The next morning, you went to answer Karl’s question about what you wanted for breakfast when your voice came out in barely a whisper. You shut your eyes in embarrassment with a hand closing over your mouth as his eyebrows raised at you. “What was that, baby? Let me hear you,” he mocked, walking over to press his thumb against your throat.

You shook your head, refusing to let him gloat about you losing your voice moaning his name the night before. He kissed you roughly, tongue pressing into your mouth to lap at your weak moans. His teeth dragged across your lips. “I said, I wanna hear you. I wanna be reminded how you lost your voice,” he stated darkly, a smug expression plastered across his face.

I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL / I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE

With the party thundering into the night, you swiveled through the crowd of people grinding on each other, plastic cup in your hand as you returned to where Karl and a few of the other frat brothers were sitting. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you handed him the drink and picked your cards back up.

You’d been playing strip poker with the other guys, who were mainly drunk out of their mind and half-naked anyway. It also helped that Karl would whisper in your ear to guide you into burning and showing the right cards. He once told you about the group of men that taught him how to play during a trip to his father’s favorite country club.

His legs spread a bit more beneath you, shifting you in his lap to sit on his leg. Shamefully, your breath hitched in your chest, a blush spreading to your cheeks as your nails dug into his arm as if to tell you to stop. He tensed slightly before realizing that the only reason you reacted was because the friction was almost a tension reliever for you. You were already riding on your winning streak, but the last thing you could handle was the feeling of his thigh between your legs and in front of all the men drugged out on smoke and hard liquor.

Karl’s lips pressed to the back of your ear, his hand moving to switch a few of your cards around while the other gripped your waist. As you won the next hand, Todd dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him, rolling his eyes playfully before dropping backward and mumbling about taking a nap before he was dealt in again.

You giggled at him, only for Karl to move his thigh, dragging you against him. You peered over your shoulder slightly, glaring at him as if to tell him to cut it out, but he just smirked at you, holding your hips as he bounced his leg. His lips pressed against your shoulder. “Either you get yourself off or I get you off,” he taunted, the friction making you moan quietly.

MY WHOLE EXISTENCE IS FLAWED / YOU GET ME CLOSER TO GOD

Karl turned the radio up, tucking his hands behind his head as you dug into his jacket pocket for his lighter. You had him between your thighs, his fingers dragging up your skirt as you took the joint from behind his ear and brought it to your lips, lighting it and inhaling. Something flashing behind Karl’s eyes as you cracked his window. He grabbed your face before you could exhale, making you shotgun the smoke into his mouth. You moaned at the feeling of the drug seeping into your mind as well as Karl feeding off of your high.

He exhaled before pulling you in for a hungry kiss, moaning against your lips and digging his fingers into your thighs. You pulled away from him, pushing him back against the seat and handing him the joint before unzipping his pants. You dug your teeth into his bottom lip as you sank down on his hardened arousal, moaning at the tightening feeling. He groaned, his hand groping your ass to urge you to ride him.

He pulled away from your kiss, resting the joint between his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head. Your hands pushed into his jacket, sliding beneath his shirt as you rolled your hips against his. You pulled your fingers into your hair, tugging at the strands as one of his hands moved to brush below the hem of your shirt, moving to press his fingers into your back.

He watched you intently, teeth biting into his lower lip to keep himself quiet as you moaned. Euphoria spread across his face to mix with the cloud of smoke from the weed. You kissed him again, his tongue ring pressing into your mouth with a groan as you rode him harder, clawing at the friction and moaning at the feeling of his hands on your body.

YOU CAN HAVE MY ABSENCE OF FAITH / YOU CAN HAVE MY EVERYTHING

“What are you wearing?” Karl asked, voice low and tired from the day of traveling; static from the interference on the phone line giving his tone the feeling of an old recorded message. He’d left earlier in the week, leaving after spending the weekend with you to get back home for his brother’s birthday. He’d nearly kidnapped you from your studies to go with him, but with the impending exams, there was no way you could get away.

You plugged in your headphones, moving to lay on your back as you realized what he was up to. “I’m wearing socks,” you stated sarcastically, making him laugh on the other end of the call. You knew he’d be scrubbed of his alternative appearance while in his mother's house. Your mind wandered to how weird it felt to kiss him without his piercings.

He hummed. “Only socks?” He chippered, playful lust dripping from his words as he spoke. You pressed your fingers against your bottom lip, trying your hardest to remember what it felt like with his teeth biting into your skin.

“I’m wearing your shirt, too,” you added; moving your fingers to toy with the hem of the dark t-shirt. You hadn’t even thought twice when you slipped it on earlier. Only now did you realize how nearly pathetic it was after he’d been trapped in your bed hours prior.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah? You miss me at all?” He chided, making you chew the inside of your cheek. “Come on, tell me how much you miss me, baby.”

You were silent for a moment, his raspy voice sending heat throughout your body. You tried to picture him buried in your hair as he spoke to you, his fingers brushing beneath your clothing in the dark. “I miss you,” you hummed. “It’s cold here alone.” You chewed your lip, you were never good at dirty talk. You could hear your roommate and her group of friends downstairs giggling as they turned on some music, the lyrics drifting through the air vents.

Karl tsked. “I think that’s a lie. I know it’s warm between your legs, dove,” he answered coolly, making your cheeks flush. “Fuck, I want you,” he groaned, your eyes fluttering at his low tone as goosebumps spread across your body.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, your fingers itching to dip beneath the waistband of your underwear.

You could tell he was biting back a smug groan at your quiet plea. “You want me to walk you through touching yourself?” He almost growled. “I wanna hear you cum for me.”

I DRINK THE HONEY / INSIDE YOUR HIVE / YOU ARE THE REASON / I STAY ALIVE

The two of you stumbled into Karl’s room, the sound of music from the party drowning out slightly as he kicked the door shut, pressing his lips against yours as you tugged off his clothes. The back of your legs hit his bed frame, the pair of you tangling together before you rolled on top of him. He pulled your shirt over your head, hands settling on your hips to urge you to grind against him.

The taste of the liquor on his lips sent your head reeling as his cologne and the smell of cigarettes clouded your already muddled senses. Your fingers raked down his tattooed chest, making him groan, his eyes looking up at you submissively.

Whenever Karl was drunk, he always bent to your whim. His dominant mind seemed to flip a switch and all he wanted was to make you feel good. He wanted to be used by you like he always used you.

Heat flushed to your cheeks from the alcohol; you’d beaten Todd in beer pong, again, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have to down a few shots to level the playing field. Your mouth pressed to his again, tugging his pants down his legs before sinking down on him as he moaned deeply.

As you rode him, he moved your hand from off his neck, taking your thumb into his mouth; the metal of his tongue ring swirling against your thumb as his teeth grazed your skin. You moaned at the sight, moving your hand to settle in his hair, tugging his head to the side as your teeth dug into his neck, marking him with your mouth.

He pulled your hips against his, driving himself into you deeper as he thrust against you, making you groan against his skin. You kissed him, driving your tongue into his mouth as you savored his moans of arousal at the feeling of you.

You moved to sit up again, letting the music set your pace as Karl titled his head back in pleasure, teeth tugging his lip ring into his mouth. You clenched around him, just because you knew you could draw him over the edge before you, but his eyes flickered with a willingness to hold out that licked at the fire of determination building your tension.

He sent you a lazy smirk before reaching a thumb between your thighs from where his hands were gripping onto your hips; toying at your nerves and making your vision blur with how good he was making you feel. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, hips rolling against yours. You pressed your mouth to his again, basking in the taste of his words and the liquor that had melted against his tongue; ready the man between your legs to completely ruin you.

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 4 years ago

Text

The Forgotten - Part Six Return of the Nerd

Full story here

SMUT FO SHO MY BITCHES, CAUSE THATS HOW I DO!

Despite her failing protests Michelangelo personally escorted Aurora from the compound. She really had no choice in the matter, if she tried to fight him, she would attract unwanted attention and she’d be found out. Thankfully, Mikey didn’t seem too keen on bringing her to Bishop, he actually looked a little nervous as his eyes moved about the hallway seeming to keep her from full view of all cameras. But she had gotten what she wanted, confirmation of Bishop’s base, the one they had been searching for, for years. This was a good thing; it was a win in her eyes.

He walked her through the main gate making sure to keep his massive frame in front of the cameras and guards to shield her presence. This was all so surreal; so much had changed in the last few months. They went from trying to end her life to being unable to control their hormones like horny teenagers but still wary of her motives. She’d take it.

As they came to the edge of the compound’s boundaries Mikey stopped turning to look at the kunoichi. His large mitt palmed the side of Aurora’s throat before running up to cup her cheek. His rough thumb drug over her bottom lip and he let out a soft sigh which by the sudden bunch of his shoulder muscles was unexpected. His eyes scanned over her face and a look of contentment flash over his baby blues but morphed to concern. “Leo said you told him there’s something inside of us, all of us. What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, she let it out ready to give him some answers his overactive brain was so desperately in need of, “It looks like a tiny metal octopus, like smaller than an eraser head. It constantly moves so it’s difficult to locate inside the body and why we weren’t able to figure out how he’s been controlling you all. We only found out recently and by pure accident. If only we had Donnie…..”

“Donnie?”

Closing her eyes momentarily Aurora let out a heavy sigh and she looked up into his baby blues, “He’s your brother. He went missing almost four years ago, a year before you, Leo and Raph were taken.” Another deep breath, but she decided to keep the new formation of Donnie trying to return from him. If he was lying, which he had always been a horrible liar but just in case he grew some new skills since he was reprogramed Aurora kept that little nugget of info close to her chest.

Mikey cocked his head rubbing the back of head, she could see him wince a little and his eyes fog over. “He’s a genius….purple.”

“Yeah, you’re right….Mike did that hurt you to think of that?”

“It felt like someone was trying to drill into the back of my skull. Fuckin burns man.”

Aurora moved quickly around to the back of the terrapin and pressed her palm to the back of his bald crown. There, she fucking felt it, the flutter of something under his flesh caught between his skull and his scalp. She reached for his hand and yanked it back to replace hers. “There! Do you feel it?!”

It took him a few seconds to feel the movement but when he did Mikey’s body jolted with surprise. “What the hell? Fuck!” His fingers cupped it trying to grab at it. “There is something in me! Cut it out! Jesus get it out!”

“I-I can’t Mike, that’s your skull, that’s a little more important than your shin or arm. It could get infected I don’t want to lose you to something as stupid as that. Besides its dark and I have nothing to grab it. My fingers would be covered in blood and that thing would slip free.”

“Fuck, it’s gone.” He began to touch his skin trying to find it again.

“The skull maybe blocks the transmission a little? I’ve seen your x-rays; you guys have thick skulls. Maybe the mutagen? I don’t know…..” Slowly she took his hand in hers pulling them to her cheeks, the gesture stopped his frenzy. “Why didn’t you turn me into Bishop? I was at your mercy and you didn’t give me over to him. You could have easily done so?”

“Your eyes.” He cupped her cheeks and locked eyes, “They’re the windows to the soul. The first time we ‘met’ I could see the sadness and the happiness all at the same time. You were legit happy to see us and then it morphed to sadness then terrified. If we had never met before, which we were meant to believe, I would have expected you to be terrified, which is what most people experience when they first see us. But you were happy, relieved even. Fuck, you even knew our god damn names. Like, I was shooketh! When we got back to base and I confronted Bishop. Bishop told me you were a kunoichi, you were a seductress using your womanly wiles to make us doubt the mission and must have gotten our names from a captured soldier. But your emotions were genuine, so I had trouble brushing it off. Then Raph had his little meet and great with you. You didn’t try to take him, just trying to talk. And then Leo, you could have easily killed him after you sent him to dream land…..awesome job by the way…..but you let him fucking go. What kind of enemy lets their enemies go? You didn’t hurt either of them. When I saw you in the hallway and the way you looked at me when I pulled you into that room, I could see happiness again. No one is happy to see us, not even Bishop. Right now, I can see love.”

Aurora could see tears begin to form at the corner of his eyes and her body responded following suit. “You were always so intuitive Mikey. I do, I love you, I love all of you. I miss you so much. I wish I could take you home with me.”

“I know, I know not until you get this slippery little fucker out of us. Plus, I need to stay here and make sure my bros are ok. He cut up Raph to punish Leo for not fulfilling the mission last night.”

“He did what?! That’s Raph’s blood on your hands?! …..Mission?”

“Calm down he’s fine, nothing life threatening. Leo was supposed to get loose and tell us where you were, but he never reported in. I guess Leo found something a little more entertaining.” He chuckled half heartily. “I don’t blame him…”

“Speaking of, how are you doing down there champ?”

“Blue balls for sure, but I’ll be fine nothing I can’t take care of in a little bit. If it wasn’t for all the security a few hundred feet away I’d have that pretty little pussy of yours stretched over this cock until you were hoarse from screaming my name.”

Heat flushed her checks and felt the warmth of new arousal bloom in her abdomen at the thought. “I’d let you too. But I need to get out of here before they get suspicious. I mean when you came down that hallway you looked determined. Where were you heading?”

Mikey’s eyes widened, “Fuck! I was going to get more bandages! I gotta go! I’ll see you soon Blondie!” and just like that he was gone, running towards the base at top speed. As he reached the main yard he began weaving around and jumping over bodies until he was a speck entering back into the compound.

It took Aurora less time to head back to her bike still being careful of motion detectors, she took to the streets and as she was a good distance away, she slowed her bike to a stop and pressed the com in her ear.

“White skull to base.”

It took a few minutes, but the familiar voice of Casey came over the com his mouth apparently filled with food. “This is Base, go ahead White Skull.”

“We have confirmation. Disneyland has been located.”

She didn’t go home right away, the talk of Donnie made Aurora take a detour to the lair. She informed Casey of her next stop and made her way below the streets. Everything was how she left it, dark and empty. Lights began to flicker on illuminating the large space; she moved to the kitchen pulling out a water and cracked it open downing the entire contents in one motion. She moved slowly eyeing the closed door to Donnie’s lab and decided that was where she wanted to be.

The door opened without a sound and she slipped inside keeping the arch in view. She willed it to come alive with power, to give her back Donnie. As she reached the piece of vexing machinery her fingers ran over the smooth edges finding them surprisingly warm. The lair was naturally cool due to the depth it laid so for the metal to be warm was odd. She moved to the controls and looked for any activity, lights coming alive under the key of the board, a flickering on the screen indicating any type of activity? Anything……anything of Donnie……

Minutes turned to hours, but she remained glued to her spot. Something in her gut told her to stay, not to leave the lair, not yet. Swiveling in his specially designed chair Aurora picked up a small device on Donatello’s desk and spun it around in her hands. It was glass, a cube to be exact, the reflective qualities were gorgeous, a prism effect. It was a light he had been working on, powered by the warmth from one’s hands. It only took a few moments for the cube to begin to flicker with the variety of colors of a rainbow. The longer she held it the brighter it got. When it reached the desired brightness, she placed it back on his work bench and stared into the shifting hues.

He had yet to perfect the device, it only held the charge for an hour or two, but he was certain he was about to have a breakthrough with the conversion of power. Something with the helix bonds or whatever. She knew he’d get it; she just didn’t think it would take this long.

She began to doze mesmerized by the lit cube. Her eyes half closed unfocused on anything she was suddenly aware the light was getting brighter? Did he fix something about it before he disappeared? Blinking her eyes rapidly she focused on the cube finding it like how it should be, dulling with time. Then what was that bright light?

The sounds of electricity crackling began to rise in volume in his lab along with the pulsing of light she had mistaken from the cube. The source now tore her gaze from Donnie’s work bench to the very much active arch. The light grew in intensity nearly blinding her as Aurora stood from her seat. She shielded her eyes with her arms and watched the arch snap and flicker with power.

A circle began to open within its circumference swirling between a greyish color and a bright blue. Then it started to fluctuate, and a figure began to form inside the growing vortex. The lines were fuzzy keeping the picture unclear, but her heart jumped and clenched with anxiousness at the forming figure. It had to be, it just had to be.

Without warning a burst of energy blew from the vortex sending Aurora back with its unexpected force. She toppled over his chair and into a stack of computer parts scattering them across the floor and Aurora on her ass. She quickly got to her feet and found the arc now stable giving her a perfect view of the genius. There was no flickering now, no waves of misaligns data, just a clear as day view of Donatello and it was glorious.

With unsure steps she made her way around the new mess on the lab floor but kept every sense, every ounce of her concentration on the tall missing terrapin staring back at her through the newly working portal.

She didn’t know when she had started crying but her cheeks were soaked and her voice unsure, but she called out, “D-Don?”

Donnie face broke out into an exuberant smile and he reached down for what looked like a bag and hoisted it over his broad shoulder. His left leg rose and slipped through the portal falling onto the cement floor of his lab and the rest of his body followed suit until he was living, breathing, real flesh and bone standing a few excruciating feet away from the trembling woman.

His tall frame was dressed in new clothes, his legs covered in properly fitted grey slacks with expensive looking custom black boots on his massive feet, old gadgets were gone replaced with smaller fancier items. His backpack was missing but his goggles remained but looked to have gotten a major upgrade. She could see his bo was still there also looking newer. Gone were his broken turtle glasses replaced with black rimed frames that better fit his face making the nerd look more sophisticated. Did he look bigger? The clothes were throwing her off. Where the fuck has he been? The words were on her lips, but she couldn’t move, all her screaming muscles cried out to touch him but she was paralyzed by shock. Four years, it had been, four years since she had seen him in the flesh.

The heavy leather duffle was set down and Donatello looked her up and down and he let out a long, very happy shuttering sigh. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

His voice finally broke her from her paralysis, and she stormed forward leaping into his arms praying she wasn’t hallucinating but the solid body that caught her was very much there and very much real. He was home.

Her hands ran over him just to make sure, up and down his arms, over his neck to the top of his muscled shoulders. Her fingers worked the first few buttons free and felt the familiar scars and gouges of his chest nearly sobbing at the realization of his return.

“You’re here, you’re really here!”

“I am, god, it took so long but I’m here.” His finger hooked under her chin so their eyes locked. Purple and brown both flooded with happy tears. “I’ve missed you.” His lips found hers, soft at first growing with enthusiasm as Aurora responded with vigor.

As their mouths engaged and reengaged in desperate collisions Aurora began to finish stripping the genius of his fancy shirt. Her fingers pulled the fabric from his shoulders, down his arms until he was free. To her delight she was right; Donatello had been working on his fitness while he had been stripped from his family. Donnie had been no weakling by any means, the purple banned terrapin could easily crush a skull with his bare hands but he had bulked up in his time away. Eager fingers ran along the ridges of the solid definition squeezing hard with appreciation.

Their mouths broke free pulling in gulps of air and Aurora’s moved to his chiseled jaw line nipping at the scales until he was panting.

“Don” she mewled between open mouth kisses down his long throat, “Donnie……D……Donatello.” The more she moaned his name the louder he crooned until he reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it free of her body in one fluid motion.

“Aurora.” He moaned cupping one breast with his free hand. Gently he squeezed and rolled the fabric over the mound finding the bud beneath peek quickly. His finger caught the bra and pulled it down releasing a breast to his gaze. With a heave Donnie lifted her higher so his mouth could cover the hot flesh sucking and nipping until her could feel the fabric of her pants dampen with her arousal against his plastron. “God, you smell divine. I want to taste you but I don’t think I can wait.”

There was so much to discuss, so much he didn’t know about. Donnie had no idea his brothers were no longer with the resistance and under Bishop’s control but he looked so happy in this moment and truth was so was Aurora. She would wait to break his heart, they would take this moment, they both needed it. It was a happy reunion and she was sure there would be more now with Donnie back. Gripping his cheeks she ground against him, “Then don’t.”

Donatello wasted no time and brought her over to his abandoned desk shoving everything from its surface. He dropped her down and yanked her boots and pants free of her body to begin fumbling with his belt. Aurora’s hands pushed them from the buckle and worked them free with trained ease. The button and zipper were next, teeth opening quickly but making sure not to harm the precious cargo beneath. When the massive erection sprung free of its confines Aurora’s hands were quick to gather the throbbing flesh in both palms.

The connection with hot flesh against her expert hands made Donnie groan in bliss. His hips shifted making his cock slide through her fingers and she gripped it firmly getting a shuttering sigh from the genius. Her finger found the dripping helm gathering the moister and ran the pad of her finger down the underside of his length staying with the pulsing vein. A hiss pulled through clenched teeth followed by a throaty call of her name. Aurora leaned back spreading her thighs giving him full view of her soaked folds.

His eyes blew wide at the sight and leaned forward grabbing her right thigh hoisting it up over his shoulder while pressing her back on the cold table. Reaching between them Donatello palmed his length running the spongy head through her folds drenching himself in her scent and essence. Donnie rumbled low closing his eyes to push the head of his cock just past her opening. He stilled at the tightness and the sound of Aurora’s hitch in breath. Rocking slightly he sheathed himself an inch before withdrawing nearly pulling free of her body.

“D-Donnie….please”

His eye opened looking down at his kunoichi, her face was beautifully flushed, chest heaving and her lips parted with rough breaths. Still only one breast freed from it fabric prison Donnie reached down to free the other. His large hands covered both mounds and the mutant eased more of himself into her, slowly, until every last inch of him was engulfed in the sweet wet heat of Aurora.

Both let out a shaky sign at their long past due union and Donnie leaned down to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. He pushed forward again and the pressure of his girth and length made the woman beneath him mewl, arching and twisting to get him to move.

“Patience Rora, it’s been far too long since I’ve had you.” Slow and deliberate he began to withdrawal tilting himself so he would drag across the roof of her canal. “…far too long.” Reluctantly his hands left her reddened breasts and moved to her hips snapping his own forward with deliberate intention of making Aurora more vocal. He was rewarded pleasantly when her head snapped back at the sudden reentry and a whimpering moan of his name erupted from her throat. It encouraged the deprived terrapin further and Donnie repeated the process at an agonizingly slow pace until she was pleading with him to fuck her.

Aurora reached up to grab the rim of the genius’s plastron and she pulled him down, her mouth finding his hungrily. Lips parted, tongues wound together and the long lost familiar taste of the genius invaded Aurora’s senses like a barreling freight train. It came and she sobbed into his mouth but didn’t’ break the dance.

The pained sound didn’t startle Donnie but he did pull her closer removing all space that was between them. “I’m sorry.” He pleaded between each drive of his hips. “I’m so sorry.” With each breathless apology his rhythm picked up rutting into the kunoichi with fevered abandon.

His mouth disconnected with hers traveling down to her throat nipping and sucking making sure to leave marks. It had been years since he had seen his own brand on her skin and he was determined to leave enough so each time she looked in the mirror these next few days he would be the only thing on her mind.

Aurora rocked into each plunge of his length whimpering with each strike into her depths. This was so much different than the other day. When she had Leo it was him physically but Leo wasn’t there mentally; he was in his head locked away but not present in the act, maybe to some extent but she couldn’t be sure just yet.

Donatello was here, all of him; mind body and soul and it made the reunion much more intense. As he drove her to the precipice her hands groped at the dense muscles of his arms dragging him back into her. She was desperate for every inch of him, every drop she was prepared to receive.

She could feel it, the beginnings of her peek. It started slow like an over flowing sink, the tingling sensation of her climax rolled in her cunt moving to the stretched lips of her labia swallowing his pumping cock.

Donnie growled feeling her walls started flutter around him, “Are you going to cum for me? I’ve been dre-ahh-aming of his moment for almost five years now. How many times I’ve imagined you under me to give myself a little piece.” His hips picked up in speed to help her along chasing his own in the process. “Cum.” He demanded. “Cum for Donnie.”

With his command it rolled up her belly and spread like wild fire as Aurora toppled over her peek. Her climax overtook her body tensing, arching into him and she screamed. Open mouthed echoing into the once vacant room she came undone around him.

“F-f-uck, so tight…..I’m gonna…….” One, two, three more pistons of his hips and Donatello drove forward one last time anchoring himself as far as her body would allow. His beak nudged Aurora’s head to the side to expose her throat and his teeth latched onto the slender column to hold his lover steady as he gave her his release. His cock pulsated painfully and finally erupted with rich ropes of his ejaculate flooding her insides. With each ebbing flow of his climax Donnie rocked into her body with small shallow movements until every drop of his seed was deposited into her womb.

It took a few minutes for both to calm down, clinging to each other unwilling to disconnect just yet. He was still seated within her as her fingers ran along the top of his shell in slow soothing motions. She didn’t want to move, she just wanted to enjoy being close to Donnie, he was back, real. His smell was soothing, and his slowing heart beat that thudded against his plastron would easily lull her to sleep. But now it was time for questions, time for answers and he needed to know about his brothers.

Aurora’s fingers moved to his skull and moved along the back to run down the base of his spin that transitioned into his carapace. He shuttered at the sensation and finally leaned up to look her in the eyes.

“Hi.” He whispered ghosting his lips over hers.

“Hey yourself, nerd.”

His brown eyes moved over Aurora’s flushed features taking her in, really looking her over for the first time in four years. He could she was happy, and sated for that matter but there as something else in those violet eyes. Then it hit him, they usually moved in pairs, one of his brothers should have been in her company. “Why are you here alone? Are they at the base?”

She knew who Don was referring too and shifted under him. “Don…there is something I need to tell you.”

Donnie’s lazy smile lowered his afterglow forgotten. Slowly he pulled from Aurora’s depths and helped her from the table. His lips pressed in a thin line. “No, please don’t tell me……..they’re…….”

Aurora quickly grabbed for his face not wanting him to finish the sentence. “No! No, they’re not.” She watched his tense body relax at the knowledge his brothers were not dead. “But…they fell under Bishop’s control. Over three years ago Bishop set up an elaborate plan to capture them, you as well if you were with us. He tricked us with false information from a faulty lead and trapped them in an electrified cage. We weren’t able to get to them in time before he stole them away. We barely made it out with our lives as it was. It broke me, broke us, I don’t think the resistance ever fully recovered from the loss of you all. Casey and I ran into them a few months ago for the first time since losing them after trying to confiscate a tech truck that they were overseeing. Leo…Leo nearly killed me. They didn’t know who I was.” Her finger ran over the scar on her abdomen. “But that meeting triggered something in them. All three of them were then drawn to me; I’ve had rather intense interactions with each of them since then.”

She watched the emotions run across his face; confusion, anger, sadness and finally acceptance. “We’ll get them back. I promise I’ll work day and night to continue my work on how he’s controlling them. We’ll find them, bring them home, I didn’t work my ass off for four years and across several dimensions to not see my brothers again.”

“That’s the other thing Don, we found it.”

“Found it?” He parroted tilting his head in confusion.

“What Bishop puts in his victims to control them. It’s back at the base at R & D for analysis. It looks like a tiny octopus. We just need to figure out the ‘how’ now, and cut the communication and…. fuck…. we found Bishop’s allusive base tonight too.”

Donnie cupped her checks and pressed another life stealing kiss to her mouth. With a pop he pulled away with a toothy grin. “You have been rather successful without us.”

Eyes closed she savored his taste licking her lips, he still drank coffee. They had that where he was? “It took us a bit but you came back just in time to give us a win.” Then her violet eyes snapped open and her palm pressed against his chest applying pressure until the mutant fell into his computer chair with a grunt. She then climbed back on top the genius’s lap and gripped the sides of his plastron looking him square in the eyes. “Now genius…..spill it, where the FUCK have you been?”

His hands went back to her hips and let out a sigh, “That night when I disappeared I had an epiphany; I came down here with an idea that this thing could help us.” His long arm gestured to his most recent ride home and returned to her lower back to rub the pads of his fingers along her still exposed flesh. “I was working to use it to access different dimensions….eventually: the nexus, new worlds but what if I used it for a simpler purpose? Move our soldiers from base to a target location to utilize the element of surprise? It would lower the chances of casualties by 30%. I was just going do a test honestly but I must have hit the wrong the button and found myself sucked into the arch and in a new world a very strange new world.”

“How strange?”

“Like another version of my brothers and I strange.”

Aurora’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “More mutant turtles? Like you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Yes I know, it was rather a large shock for me let me tell you. I dropped right into their lair right on top of another Michelangelo. They looked a little different than us, shorter, no clothes besides leather obi’s, knee and elbow pads. Younger versions with their Master splinter still alive, same dynamic though, with Leonardo still as leader. Their Donnie was brilliant; making miraculous things with trash, a very resourceful terrapin in deed. He had made a battle shell, a shell sub and a sewer slider, plus others. Anyways, naturally they were rather distressed seeing my tall ass drop in on them in their home unannounced. After a few hours of telling them my story, and talking about my own brothers and their similarities, Donnie and his brothers agreed to help me get home. As you can see it took longer than we thought it would, finding the right components and a power source had proved more challenging than anticipated. Then finding the right coordinates proved another hurdle to overcome. I got here on accident so it was trial and error until I saw you the other day through the portal. It was the most glorious sight I had ever seen but the power course failed under the strain, which is why I couldn’t come through. We needed to reinforce it to support the transdimensional pull from the other dimensions trying to break through. After we fixed that problem and your face appeared clear as day on the other side I knew we had gotten it right.”

She looked at him absentmindedly running her palms over his exposed biceps, another dimension with more mutant turtle brothers? How many more she wondered quickly before shaking herself from the thought. “Did they have their own Bishop?”

“Yes, actually they do, and strangely enough as Donnie and I were working one night he confessed his own trip to another dimension or terrible future, he wasn’t sure. It was around our timeline and age; I guess their Donnie had disappeared without a trace as well. Mikey had lost an arm, Raph his eye and Leo his entire eye sight. Casey had passed and the villain was shredder. He had enslaved the entire world killing master Splinter in the process which threw a massive wedge between Leo and Raphael, a very violent wedge that kept them apart for years.”

“Fuck….I…”

“There’s more…… they managed to defeat Shredder with Donnie’s help but Leo, Raph and Mikey perished in the fight. It happened years ago and it still gives him nightmares. It would me too, watching my brothers die right in front of me. I don’t think I’d ever recover.” Wiping away a stray tear Donatello gripped her body tighter remembering she had to witness them all ripped from her. “All these years you had no idea what happened to me and then you lose the rest of them. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t get back sooner. I promise we’ll get them back.”

She could see the anxiety rise in the genius as he began to process everything. How similar the scenarios were for both worlds and after everything he was still without most of his family. “Deep breaths Donnie, I need you level headed when we head back to base. I know we’ll get them back now that you’re back home. There’s a lot of work to be done and April and Casey are gonna be over the moon to see you. I’m so happy to see you.”

She was about to remover herself from his lap when she felt the head of his cock nudge against her entrance and soon found herself stuffed full of her genius once again. Donnie took Aurora two more times before he relinquished his hold on her and allowed her to dress.

Pulling her back into his embrace after watching Aurora tie her katana back to her hip Don pressed a few open mouthed kisses to her throat. “I’m sorry, I have four years of pent up need for you to work through. You’re not going to walk right for a week after I’ve had my fill.”

His voice dropped at the delicious threat making her shiver at his continued advances and lean into his plastron. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The run back to base was pleasant with Donatello right by her side. His long legs made him naturally faster which pushed her harder to keep up with the lanky turtle but the occasionally view of his perfectly round cheeks wasn’t a bad thing either. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into them later tonight.

“White skull to base.” Aurora called into her com as they moved to the final block of their trek home.

“This is base, please go ahead White Skull.”

“Will you tell The Curator and Meathead that I’m bring home a present.”

“Will do, ETA?”

“Five minutes.”

“See you then.”

Donnie slowed down looking at his kunoichi. “You’re not gonna tell them I’m coming?”

“I wanna see their faces when they lay eyes on you. I wanna keep that memory forever and put it with the same one we’ll get when your brothers return home.”

@imthegreenfairy88 @ravn-87 @alonia143 @tmntspidergirl @blossom-skies

#tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michaelangelo #the forgotten #part six #return on the nerd #aurora-the-kunoichi #self indulgent bullshit

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slater-later · 4 years ago

Text

I Want to Watch You Grow

Brian Kelly x Trans Masc Reader

Read it here on AO3 if you would like!

- This is a Brian Kelly x Trans Man reader fan fic. This conronicles your long term relationship with Brian and your development with yourself. Your body, and transition as a transman.

- I hope everyone enjoys this. Finds space within themselves and their relationship with the world. It’s okay to be trans, being trans is beautiful. it’s a difficult, glorious journey that is far more of a beginning then an end. Living happy life, being proud of yourself and your body.

- The fic is long, about 12 pages. So please, soak it in, and I wish you the happiest day!

The two of you had been dating for some time. You had met at a small high school party. A good group of friends coming together around a Summer bonfire, slipping your feet out from the well worn sandals and wiggling them infront of a fire. The soles of your feet toasted, turning them around to be goldened on both sides. You held a long metal skewer with two plump marshmallows on the end, rotating it around as you warmed it to a golden ball of glory.

It was sweet, being able to spend time with old friends and make some new. Your friend Ronnie had invited the skater kids from school to join you. He had bonded with them over their mutual love for rock and rap music. It made sense, they both loved Public Enemy. Blasting ‘We Got the Power’ out of their car radios whenever they had a chance.

You enjoyed it, they threw out some good rhymes and it was a battle cry for your youth. You generation. You couldn’t help but bob your head to the music and belt along.

It was towards the end of the night when you two met. Brian had showed up late, hair slicked with a heavy line of sweat. A shirt quickly shoved into his pants, trying to clean up for his group of friends after a long day of skating.

He had skipped out of work that day- well, really, the restaurant was slow so there wasn’t much need for two busboys. He had spent the rest of his afternoon and late into the stary night, skating at the skatepark. The street lights clicked on and it had made it hard for him to see the clear edges of the ramps. It was time to turn in and get a bite to eat. Putting aside the new trick he caught from someone else. Trying to nail it.

If he knew it could be done, then he could. He just needed enough time and perseverance to figure it out.

With skating, the possibilities were endless. It was his place to let go of life’s worries and focus on something where had complete control. The complete right to be, what and who he is, with no to tell him otherwise. Skating was like a lifeblood for him, his way of life.

His boundless universe.

He came jogging in, skateboard in hand as he approached the group huddled around the warm fire.

The trees swayed, creaking under the age and weight of their own majesty with a long gust of wind. It was dark, the hum of Summer turning to a deep pitch of haze. Black rolling in, only to be illuminated by the glaze of starfull and a half crescent moon. The forest was thick, lulled by the hum of heated crickets and hushed by the cool breeze of night. Smoke pooling from the warm fire, whisping and licking up the sky with powerful might. Your toes curled, seeking a gentle relief from its delightful burning flame.

They were roasted and baked. You tucked them into the ground, shifting your heals to push back the brush and find a damp, cool, interior.

Brian waved, throwing an arm up to welcome everyone. A boy buzzed in the background, rolling a hit out of a cheaply made bong. Coughing as he blew out his lungs. Stoned till’ the cows come home.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, it uh, took me a while to find you guys,” He smiled, strolling on into the circle and making his way over to Yabbo. Giving him a high five and saying hello to Buddy.

You popped your marshmallow onto a graham cracker and some chocolate. You munched on your treat, washing it down with a sip of beer.

You watched Brian that night, catching his eyes as he chatted with Buddy over some trick he had been captivated by. Transfixed on trying to nail, to, gleam the cube.

He noticed, his shit stain smirk would appear even in mid sentence. Hands flailing out, gesturing and expressing his exasperation on some wild tangent he was on about skating. About life. About love. It was amusing to watch him, loud and audacious as he was. He could even make Buddy loud, who was normally a quiet and reserved guy. Get him chuckling about some silly joke he made, and pairing it with an audacious face. Hands whipped out, a cross between a dragon and a gorilla.

You had finished off your second beer, musing with a friend about the stars as you gazed. Heads turned up, pondering the wide expanse of space. Its’ glorious bounds, its beauty, its’ wonder.

It put things in perspective for you. Not in a scary way, but in a comforting one. That sometimes, our emotions can feel massive. And they can be! But they also fall away, soothe and ease, as we realize, this shall pass. As all things. Even life. And so, what we must work towards is enjoying it. Like moments like these- feet kicked up on a stump, back eased into a lawn chair with a good beer in hand, spending time with friends. The summer breeze cooling your warm skin, still tanned and glowing from a long day spent outside. Walking, running, and spending time with those that mattered to you. You can’t steal back time, but instead, enjoy it.

Brian tapped Buddy’s shoulder, gesturing for him to shift over as he stood up. Slicking to the outside of the circle, making his way over.

He stopped at the bag of mellows, nabbing two and popping one in his mouth. Munching on its sugary goodness as he finished the trip. Sliding down and popping on the ground, criss-cross-apple-sauce style.

You picked your chin up from the stars, turning your head towards him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” He smiled tiredly, softly. It had grown late and the group had died down, calming and chatting amongst themselves. “So, I uh, don’t think I caught your name,” He mused, chuckling with an anxious delight. He had caught your fancy and talking to attractive people always made his insides flutter.

“It’s Y/N, what’s yours?” You smiled, letting out a tiny yawn, hand hovering over your mouth.

And on command, it was his turn. “Briannn.” He said, pushing through his wide open mouth, eyes turning to closed slits. Watering.

“Jesus, I’m beat,” He muttered, whipping his eyes.

“You too?” You couldn’t stop, the two of you speaking through widely stretched mouths, yawning and releasing the tired souls of your body out into the air. Like ghosts being exercised.

“Yeah!” He squeaked, putting his hand over his mouth. This time his mouth reaching out farther. As if a shark could unhinge its massive jaw.

Slowly, both of yours bodies cooled down. Chatted about the quiet, peaceful sounds of the forest. How the night made your feel alive, at ease within your own body. It was easy talking with such a nice man, cracking soft jokes and poking fun at the world. The politicians, the fat cats, and parents. Some stupid shit a drunk girl did at school, how the one guy on the football team fucked the head swimmer and stirred drama in the theatre group. He had been dating Jared, but it all fell for shit when he saw Sam in those swim trunks.

You both agreed, he looked mighty fine in the spandex speedo. And Tom did too, especially when he found out how kind he was.

“So who do you think is the biggest class clown? Don or Vinny?” You mused, shifting your weight in your seat. Turning towards him.

“Ahhh, I’m not so sure. Vinny is my man, but I really like Tabitha-”

“That bitch?” You shot, clicking your tongue. “She fucking stole $20 out of my backpack, fuck her!”

His eyebrows knitted, looking disappointed. “Yeahhh, she ain’t very nice. I disagree with you there,” He looked at the blaze, shaking his head. “But it’s not a ‘frienship’ competition. I give her props pouring that bottle of stinky slick on that jerk in Ceramics. That one that makes all those gross racist comments in school.” Fuck him for his piece of shit mind. There was no reason to be like that.

“-Ugh!” Your eyes rolled, shaking your head, “I know, I fucking hate him. He’s a piece of shit,” Internally you groaned, thinking of his disgusting face.

“For that, I respect her. The fool won’t change his mind and he needs to learn that he can’t do shit like that. It’s not like he’ll listen, I’ve tried,” He popped a mellow into his mouth, chewing. “She got 3 days of suspension for that. It was pretty ballsy,” Shitting on racist was both funny and satisfying.

“What-? Why did she get that-?”

He shrugged, looking amazed, “I don’t know. It’s fucked up, that’s school for ya. It’s not right.”

You shook your head disgusted. If only they would understand, listen. “Ok, so, who has your favorite comedy?

“-Sam,” He smiled, poking a branch into the fire.

You watched him stir up the flame, picking at a log and turning it over.

“Same, he’s really nice. He’s quiet but he has a smart tongue on him,” Slowly the fire grew. Emboldened by the new life, “Tom’s really lucky.”

Brian shot you a look, teeth flashing in a grin, “Cuz Jared’s so hot?”

You shot up in your seat, pushing yourself closer to him- “Okay though, right?!” Brian burst out laughing, head thrown back as he boomed.

You waved your hands up into the air, desperately. “He has those pecs! Those thick arms! I just wanna be hugged by him!” He was a big tall teddy bear! A muscular one too! Who doesn’t love a big teddy bear?!

“I know, I know!” He slapped his knee, face red and warm, and it wasn’t from the booze. “He’s cute! He’s really cute!” He laughed, smiling through his big open mouth.

The two of you talked for the rest of the night, making another round of smores and sipping on the last of your cold beer. It was easy, talking to him. You found a kind of warm comfort and acceptance by such a free soul. By someone who really just wanted to be seen and heard, and loved for who he was.

*****

That night would bloom into many others. A few months you spent together, as friends, and the others, as lovers. You slowly got to know each other over time progressed. Eventually, love bloomed. Infatuation took to desire, day dreaming about the next time you’d see him. Hand propping your chin, staring off into a whiteboard filled with math equations as the teacher droned on. The last week of school was a buzzkill, bittersweet, and painfully long.

You wanted it to end. For it to be Summer, to be scott-free and without responsibilities. But that also brought changes and your second stage of life was on the horizon.

****

The time came and both of you decided to take a year off from college. Work and save up some money. Spend time together as much you can.

You planned on going away to school a few hours away. Brian hadn’t quite decided, but it looked to be the same.

Both of you would attend the same school and it would work out well. Eventually, you both got through the next four years with your brains intact for the better. He majored in music production with a minor in entrepreneurship. He wanted to do something in music, start his own band and maybe build his own label. You majored in _____ and loved it. And your relationship had lasted, strengthened. Finding a quiet peace and home in one another. A thing you quietly wished for in your heart and didn’t know you needed until you found it.

The freedom to be yourself with another. One who would love and accept you, regardless of the circumstances and the changes.

But it didn’t always make it easy. You had been having feelings about your body. Ones that you didn’t quite like and found increasingly frustrating to have. To not have the words, the names, to understand and express how you felt.

You already knew you weren’t straight. That had long been established to yourself and to Brian’s knowledge. He didn’t care- well, that wasn’t quite the right way to put it. He was supportive of your queerness and actually encouraged it. You both were fluid as a snake- bodies and gender thrown right out of the door. What mattered was the person, the attraction, and the two of you- had a lot of that for one another.

He also wasn’t one to put up many questions about the way you dressed. Switching out fem for? Masculine? He was game. He liked your style, even sowed on some patches on your jacket when he asked. Though as time wore on, catching the way you shield away from your chest… Your feelings about your body… He noticed.

“Hey babe?” He slid into the frame of the doorway, hand grasping the side of the wood as he leaned in. Watching you do your hair, clothed, and fixing your hair.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You looked at him through the mirror, running a comb through your head. “Is my coffee ready?”

“Yeah, it’s on the kitchen table. With your toast,” He walked in, looking quiet. Tentative. “Can I talk to you about something?”

You turned, “Yeahhhh…” Your voice fluttered, knowing that face he makes. It made you uneasy. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Are you… alright? You’ve been distant lately, like somethings on your mind,” He paused, looking down. Guilty, “Did I do something wrong? Are we alright?” He leaned his back against the wall, thumbs hooked into his jean pockets. Glancing up at you.

You set down the brush, turning, “Yeah,” You coed softly. Tenderly to the sweet man, “We’re okay, I’m just going through some stuff,” It was easier to put that into words. You needed time to figure things out, to share how you felt. You didn’t even have them for yourself, at least not clearly.

You hoped time would reveal itself, help your understand and work through what you were feeling.

And you didn’t know how it would change you. Or, for the matter, Brian. Your relationship with him.

He gestured to you, beat, “Do you.. Wanna talk about it?”

It fell on silence, unsure.

“Yes… but not now. I need some time,” You stepped, drawing his eyes.

“Like… how long?” It was bugging him, an itch he can’t scratch. A problem he saw, a frustration he can’t touch.

It was yours, and one that effected him. He wanted you happy and content.

To ease your pain.

“I’m not sure,” You slipped a hand into his and locked fingers together. Drawing his hand up and lined your hips with his. Brian’s other slip around your waist, pulling you close. “You’re going to have to wait, to trust me until I’m ready to talk about it. But I do love you- and it’s not because of you,” You pressed your lips to his, slowly lifting them away. “Or something you’ve done. We’re okay.”

“Alright, I just-” He looked into your eyes, vulnerable. “I want you to be happy, no matter what. Whatever it is.”

“And I thank you for that, I really do. I appreciate it,” Another press, lips locked, tongues twisting for a moment.

“Oh? Is someone?”

You laughed, caught red-handed, “Yeah, a bit.” You mused.

****

And for a while, it was left like that. You ordered yourself a proper binder and he was properly happy for you, seeing you excited to go and slip it on as soon as it came in the mail. You checked yourself out in the mirror, beaming as you found a sense of newfound confidence and comfort in your appearance. Your body.

He liked the way you smelled after you changed deodorants. You smelled rich and musky, one that you both adored. For him, it was intoxicating. Even picked up your armpit in bed as you yelped, his head buried in your pit to get a good whiff of your scent. Both of you sent laughing and shouting and you play fought in bed, beating back the monster you so endearingly loved.

“Fucking hell Brian!! Give me my arm back!”

“No! Never!” He bellowed, hand tightening around your wrist, pinning it against the wall as your feet kicked against him. He loved it, making you mad and crazy at the same time.

Tickling was your enemy! One that he used and abused, to get you laughing and squirming as he tied his body around yes. Pressing kisses to your cheek like a woodpecker.

****

Eventually, you found answers. The internet helped and a good stack of books about gender. It worked to ease your feelings about your body and the amount of envy you had for the masculine. It was difficult at first, being able to sort through attraction and gender envy at the same time. Slowly, you found answers. A confirmation of your feelings and way of life. The amount of euphoria you received when the simple stranger called you ‘man’ or ‘sir’ felt glorious. Elating and at home with yourself in a way that felt right. A homecoming.

You started to approach the subject with Brian. The two of you were friends with trans people, but it still felt fresh. Weird, and confusing to go through yourself. Being trans still didn’t give you cut and dry answers, it was a journey. A grey area because, even through they had gone through that journey, it was still personal. You had to find answers for yourself and the world is a weird, wild place.

But, it didn’t mean you were something else. Or strange for that matter- you were you, and that’s what mattered. You were exploring.

You two had been laying in bed. A quiet Saturday day spent outside, running errands and going to the farmers market to buy fresh produce and bread. It was lovely and peaceful. You guys had turned into bed early, curled under a soft comforter as you sprawled out in bed. The sun had set.

“Hey,” You whispered, dusting a piece of long hair out of his face. He was turned towards you, a fit of blankets wrapped around him as his body cupped towards yours.

“Hey,” He yawned, eyes fluttering in sleepiness.

You dusted a finger along his jaw, his chest slowly rising and falling. A ham all baked like a warm potato. “Can we talk?”

He shifted his head closer to your touch, liking the way you slowly stroked his skin. “Yeah, what’s up?” He yawned.

“I’ve been thinking, for a while now. That I might be trans,” You paused, wanting to release the next few words from your brain. “I think I am.”

“Oh?” He shifted up, sitting up now and trying to wake up his brain. Serious conversation time. “Really?” His voice was kind, asking for confirmation.

You nodded, “Yes.”

“As in nonbinary or trans masc?” He ran a hand through his hair, swooping the fluff back. Pulling himself together.

You laughed, feeling the butterflies swarm in your stomach. “Trans masculine.”

“Okay,” he smiled, nodding. Taking it in. “So uh, what do you want to do? If anything at all?”

“Honey-” You pestered, giving him a look.

“I’m asking! That’s up to you!” He was ginger, trying not to pry but dying inside. The questions!

“Clothes, that’s for one thing.”

“You’re already wearing my boxers- we gotta get you more of those.”

You had been stealing them from him. They were comfy, among other things. You couldn’t help but crack a guilty smile. He had mentioned it before when he had ran out, pissed because he hated wearing dirty ones.

“And shirts, and some good cuffed jeans-” You added.

“Dickie’s has those, we can thrift you Carhart’s from Goodwill.”

You paused, holding your breath. Holding onto the next few words, as if they couldn’t be taken back. Releasing them into the world, “And transitioning. I think I want to do that too.”

He reached for your hand, his thumb stroking your palm as the two of you laid in bed. Him looking down at you as your sprawled out, your elbow propping yourself up. “Okay, if that’s what you want, I support you. I want that too,” He pulled up your hand and pressed his lips to them softly. Firmly intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing them tightly. Securely.

“Do you want to go by different pronouns? A name?”

“Yes, I want to be named Y/N,” You smiled, feeling his hands pull you in. Draw around you in a deep hug as he slid down to your level, comforting and embracing you. “I want to go by he/him pronouns.” You chuckled against his skin, head buried into the crook of his neck.

“Well hello my Prince, I’m so glad to meet you Y/N,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling through it as your heart brust. Crying in relief, in tears of joy and relief.

“You’re not mad?” You squeaked, tears rolling down your cheek.

“Baby~” He purred, pulling back, to look into your eyes. “Of course not, I want you to be happy. You’re precious to me,” He said, soothing you. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

You nodded.

“I’ve been… wondering about it,” He mused. “I kinda figured it out after you bought your binder and started shaving your face. You barely had peach fuz but you looked so happy… so, much more bright that day,” You had slowly been trying things out. Listening to your body and how you felt. Changing your style, presenting more masculine. You even bought clothes from the men’s section and started to let go using gender specific pronouns for yourself. To ease the pain of dysphoria while you figured out feelings. Your therapist helped.

“But I’ve been waiting until you tell me, that’s your stuff,” He wiped your chin, brushing off the stream of tears. “I know you’d tell me eventually, whatever your answer was- I want to support you. I chose that long ago, I stand by that.” He smiled, adding, “And if things change in the future, that’s okay too. Gender and bodies are a tricky thing.”

There was so many choices- my so options- in how trans people choose to express themselves. All of them are valid, it’s what makes you happy is the most important thing. What aligns with yourself.

“Thank you,” You sniffled, peaking out a smile. You were happy, and now tired, and just wanted to curl up in bed. The rush of emotions flooding your system, the bent of stress and relief washing over your system. Draining you.

You wanted to feel this moment in its security, its acceptance. “That means a lot to me Brian.”

“Of course- and for what it matters-” He leaned into your ear, whispering, “I think you make a handsome man. And will continue too.”

“It doesn’t change things- between us?”

He shrugged, unfazed, “I don’t think so. I’m attracted to you and I like men so-” Another quizzical look, “I don’t see how it would change things in that department. I think I need to know more but I don’t think so.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I want to read more about it so I can help you. I know it can be hard for trans people to get the resources they need to transition. We’re going to both go through this and I want to help you. -If that’s what you want, of course.”

“Oh! Okay,” you nodded. You slid down together, laying in each others arms. Curled underneath the seats, your tears dried up. Heart shining. “I want that, your help. I fucking hate calling the doctors office.”

He laughed, “I know! I know!” You would get stressed, talking on the phone could be weird sometimes. It made you anxious.

You tucked your head into his chest, hearing it beat with the life you held so closely. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. “Thank you Bri, for everything.”

“Of course Y/N,” He spoke softly, warm. “I love you, you’re my everything.”

The two of you drifted off to sleep in bed, listening to the sound of Summer rain come in through the window. Drops slapping against the hard concrete, easing you into a deep slumber.

****

The two of you got along better after that. You were able to save up enough money to see a gender therapist. A general practice doctor that specialized in transgender health, giving you access to the hormone treatments you so desperately needed.

The changes came slow at first, the T being newly added to your system. Eventually, the body hair came in. Sprouting up your legs and turning thicker, darker, up your knees. Your body weight shifted, redistributing around your body with a healthy addition of exercise. Your jaw widened, spotting itself with facial hair which you so proudly grew. Cleaned up and trimmed, sculpting it to your desire.

That was one of your favorite moments. When you asked Brian to show you how he shaved his face. He pulled out of his bag of clippers, helped you learn how to wash your face and spread shaving cream on your face. How to guide the razor against your skin, trimming the well grown facial hair.

“-Like this- you gotta go against the grain if you want it smooth,” You were both creamed up, with your hair clipped back. He had a headband pushing his strands back, keeping it from falling into his face.

“Okay,” You mumbled in front of the mirror, guiding the razor across your skin. Wincing when you nicked yourself and hoping you don’t do that again.

“It’ll get easier, trust me,” He assured, slicking the last bit of cream off of his clean face. He mostly kept himself clean shaven, though there was a time where he rocked a thin mustache. Even some musky stubble around his cheeks. Which you loved.

And so was your transition.

In time, you qrew to love and enjoy your body even more. Seeing the face you so expected- and wished for- being reflected in the mirror. Muscles come in, adjusting your body shape to one that you desired.

Brian was very supportive. Even helped you find a good doctor for your top surgery. He pitched in money for your procedure, taking some extra hours as the store manager at the record shop where he worked. He was planning on taking it over from the owner in a few years. He had helped them expand into a second storefront. He was proud of it.

He drove you to your surgery, making sure you had everything prepared. Extra magazines, music, books, even your sketch pad and journal if you so wished it. You would sleep after your surgery in the hospital bed, groggy and tired from the boat load of meds and painkillers lulling you to a peaceful state. He wanted to make sure you were content, that you healed well and passed the time while you recovered. The tiny hospital tv having few channels to capture your attention. He ready to help you pass the time.

After your surgery, you couldn’t move your arms very much. At least not above your head. It would pull at your incisions, the area bruised and draining of fluids. He would tend to you, changing your bandages and helping you get things from the kitchen cupboards. Asking you to relax and let him take over- when you insisted on cooking dinner. That you felt fine, that the pain wasn’t too bad. Even though your chest ached, he didn’t want you to push yourself.

It was okay to lean on someone else, to let them tend to you at times in need.

He adored you and embraced the new found man you had become. He liked hearing you softly talk into his ear, listening to how your voice had dropped. Had changed, deepened, and thickened. It was an adventure for the both of you, one that you happily embraced and found a new home. In you, yourself, and each other.

He was proud to call you his boyfriend, his favorite man on Earth.

#gleaming the cube #brian kelly #brian kelly x reader #brian kelly x trans masc reader #brian kelly x transman reader #brian kelly x transgender #trans #trans man #fan fic #tyler writes #queer fan fic #queer #i fucking loved writing this fic #gender euphoria #its okay to be trans #being trans is BEAUTIFUL!#happy and healthy relationships #based in love and support for one another #wholesome

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jeongyunhoed · 4 years ago

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A year after the events of Past-Present-Future, Lee Mirae, Choi San, and Jeong Yunho receive a mysterious envelope containing photos and notes about the deaths of several individuals. The deeper they go into the case, they find that the entertainment industry hides a very dark secret.

Group: ATEEZ Pairing: Yunho/OC Genres: It’s a little bit of: adventure, romance, mystery, crime, fantasy, action. Things to note: It also features mentions of other idols/artists: Junhong (Zelo), Dean, Chanyeol, Enhypen etc.

Superpowers AU if it wasn’t obvious as well.

T/W: Themes of death, violence, demons, cults, blood, use of weapons and/or firearms, use of drugs (both recreational and medical), implied/referenced assault, implied/referenced suicide, cussing

A/N: Sorry for taking so long in updating this, but here we go, the penultimate chapter.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

The seven of them were gathered around Yeosang in his living room, giving him looks as if prompting the vampiric-looking male to explain everything. Yunho was growing impatient, thinking of Mirae and what may have happened to her, what was happening to her at that moment. Mingi was playing with his lighter while Seonghwa was fiddling with his bow and Hongjoong had the blade from his sleeve out.

“Madame Seo has been around for years, and when I say years, I mean decades, you could say she’s almost a century old even if she looks the way she looks,” Yeosang began. “I met her at the time of the Gwangju uprising. She was an adviser to Chun Doohwan, you could say she whispered things in his ear that led to that coup that killed so many people,” He looked down as he recalled that day.

“She always believed in that kind of purge. It was her philosophy as much as it was Ose’s, the demon in hell she worships. Anyway, she came to my office to discuss investments in some businesses she planned on starting, the brothel, the fashion label, those things. She knew who I was, Ose granted her the gift of reading minds, she figured out I was a mutant, who lived much, much longer than she did,”

“She still can’t read Mirae’s mind even if she tried,” San muttered, shaking his head.

Yeosang glanced at him. “It didn’t take me long before I realized...Madame Seo was developing affections for me. Of course, she wasn’t my type. I was...shall we say, married at the time, to the woman who was the mother of my children, who turned you all into what you are right now. When my wife died, she made her moves on me, and each time I rebuffed her…”

“Smooth,” Yunho gave him a look.

“Yes, yes she was. Years later, I find out that she came between Na Youngji and Ji Myungsoo, became Myungsoo’s mistress and later on wife, and then that actress died. It was easy for me to find out because she told me. She told me Ose had granted her seven children, seven demon children, to do her bidding, so she could become his queen,”

Hongjoong raised a hand, looking puzzled. “Hang on, you’re telling me that Madame Seo, that woman we’ve been looking for, is the queen or wife or whoever of this Ose demon?” He said.

“Yes. Yes, she is. But of course she needed a human husband, enter that basketball player. Madame Seo had Youngji killed, of course, just to get to him, but when he figured out who she really was, she had her children kill him too. Fast forward to today, where she has everyone, including those in government, wrapped around her finger. Madame Seo’s ultimate plan was to get everyone to bend to the will of Ose, while she prepares for his ascent,”

“And the reason why she’s got people under her control is because of those girls she sends their way?” Wooyoung asked, and he nodded. “She’ll expose them if they rat her out,” and Yeosang nodded again.

“So, a bunch of middle-aged men going this far to get laid? They’d actually sell their souls for this?” San looked disgusted.

“Sex, power, and influence. Madame Seo can give it to them too. Protection from the media and from the press. There’s a reason why there are dating scandals getting exposed just when someone in their circle is being looked into by the authorities, ever wonder why Yang Tan gets those tips of celebrities supposedly dating each other?” Yeosang glanced at Yunho and San.

“...Mirae did say Hyuk would tell her most of those were publicity stunts,” San muttered.

“There you have it, gentlemen, I’ve explained all I need to explain.”

“What does she hold over you?” Yunho asked before Yeosang could walk off.

“She knows I killed that Park Enterprises CEO,” Yeosang replied. “Among other things.”

“Those other things are?” Yunho pressed again. “You might as well say it. If you’re going to help us, better come clean with what she’s holding over you.”

Yeosang gave him a look. “She also knows I killed the rest of the people in my bloodline, including my wife. And now, she’s also jealous of Mirae.”

“Why?” Jongho questioned.

Yeosang pursed his lips. “Why do you think she’s jealous? Think about it.”

“Because you like her,” Wooyoung figured it out, scenes flashing in his head the more he looked at the vampiric-looking male. “But she doesn’t like you the same way.”

“I am fully aware of that, but that is no one’s business but mine,” Yeosang stood up straight. “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to retire for a bit,” and he walked off.

Yunho caught Yeosang in his study later that day. He was sitting by the window, drinking a glass of milk from a champagne flute. “For someone like you, I would’ve thought you took a liking to alcohol,” Yunho spoke as he stepped inside the room.

“I’ve been there, drank everything that was ever invented. Eventually it gets nauseating to drink even a drop of it,” Yeosang mumbled without looking at him. “But I do have a supply. Would you like some absinthe? It’s not as strong as you might think, as long as you put in some water over a cube of sugar.”

The vampiric-looking male gestured to the table nearby that had a tall, green bottle that was labeled in its name, the yellowing sign made Yunho realize that the liquor was likely older than him. “I guess I could have some,” He said.

Yeosang stood up and went over to the table, pouring some of the green liquid into a small glass. He placed a flat piece of metal over the glass, and a sugar cube. Yeosang carefully poured water over the sugar cube, letting it melt through the piece of metal until it reached the drink itself. From green, the drink became a cloudy yellow and Yeosang handed it over to him. “It’s best that way.”

“Thanks,” Yunho took a sip, his nose wrinkling at how strong the flavor was. He wasn’t a very experienced drinker even if he could hold his own.

“Has...Mirae told you about how we met?” Yeosang asked all of a sudden, gazing out the window.

“She met you when she found out you killed that CEO of Park Enterprises,” Yunho replied. “What about it?”

A smile crept up on the vampiric mutant’s face. “Nothing, I just keep thinking about that day. She came to the house of Park senior, inspected the body, argued with her brother, but if you’ll forgive me for saying, I was more entranced by her than I was with Park senior’s daughter,” He said.

Yunho raised a brow, curious as to what he meant. “And?”

“While she put up quite a front around me, I knew how she really felt,” Yeosang muttered. “Like many women before her, I could feel her shudder every time I was near, I could see her staring at my lips whenever we talked, as if she was begging me to kiss her, to ruin her like those women before her.”

Yunho stared at him, unable to speak, but Yeosang went on. “I had her cornered in my room one of those days she was doing a search for evidence. I could say I could cut the sexual tension between us with a knife. You’re probably wondering why the fuck am I telling you this,” a satisfied smile crept up on Yeosang’s lips, a giggle escaping him.

“Now you’re asking me that?” Yunho could feel his blood boil.

“I’m telling you this for the simple fact that Mirae needs someone who would take care of her. Treat her like the queen that she is. She deserves that much, you know? I can, can you?” Yeosang looked over at him. “You don’t deserve her, Jeong Yunho.”

“But you do?” Yunho put his drink down on the table with a thud.

Yeosang smirked. “You already died in Morocco, you had your chance with her. It’s over, Yunho.”

“No, no it isn’t,” Yunho got up. “She’s with me and she always will be.”

“Are you sure about that?” Yeosang chuckled. “She’s been playing you the entire time, in fact, I could still hear her moans whenever I remember her under me-” He stopped when he saw the prongs of Yunho’s sai pierce through his heart.

“You’re not picturing anything,” Yunho was glowering at him, watching the vampiric male fall to the floor, turning into a pile of dust. “Anymore.”

Yunho’s eyes shot open and he sat up. He had been sleeping on the large couch in Yeosang’s living room. Seonghwa and San were sleeping on the other sides of the couch, Jongho was dozing off on the lounge chair near the window, while Mingi, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were sharing the mound of couch cushions on the floor, including the cushions from Yeosang’s study.

He couldn’t believe what he dreamt. He knew it wasn’t true. Yunho reminded himself that it was probably the dust he inhaled from those documents talking again, but he still couldn’t help but think that maybe the feelings he felt in that were genuine. Mirae had already told him, reminding him that she never felt anything for Yeosang except for the fact that she respected him.

Yunho knew he didn’t have a reason to be jealous, but those things the shorter male was taunting him in his dream struck a nerve. Maybe he had some resentment towards Yeosang, maybe he was jealous. It was making him miss Mirae and wonder what was happening to her, he couldn’t hear anything from her even at this hour.

“Good morning- or should I say, good afternoon to you,” Yeosang said quietly upon stepping in, looking a little disapprovingly at the rest of his groupmates on the floor. “Well, better here than in the guest room, I’ve got Egyptian cotton sheets that should not and will not be ruined.”

“Afternoon? What time is it?” Yunho asked.

“It’s five p.m., one hour until the television special of that idol group,” Yeosang replied.

That made Yunho almost jump out of his seat. “Then we don’t have time to waste,” He took one of the cushions to hit San and Seonghwa awake. “Get up, get up, it’s time.”

Yeosang stared at them. “By all means, move at a glacial pace, the sense of urgency is astounding,” He rolled his eyes.

“What have you been doing then?” Yunho shot him a look.

“For your information, I was attending meetings. I own this building. I have a business to run, two and two makes four,” Yeosang replied. “...And I saw Mirae.”

Yunho’s expression fell. “...And?”

“As unconscious as the last time I saw her. Madame Seo has been trying to keep the idol group from feeding on her, they already tried last time, remember?” Yeosang said. “She only showed me a video of her.”

“Okay then, we’re back to where we started. Where are they keeping her?” San asked this time.

“I-I don’t know,” Yeosang shook his head. “The background is somewhere I can’t figure out.”

Yunho raised a brow at his answer. “Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” Yeosang glanced at him.

The rest of their groupmates were already at their feet. “Did Madame Seo give you the video?” Wooyoung suddenly spoke. Yeosang shook his head. “Are you sure?” He asked, but froze as he began to see flashes of what the vampiric male was talking about.

Mirae was strapped to a metal chair unconscious, with bits of dried blood on her nose and lip. Wooyoung kept blinking as if he could see everything twice as fast. There were slabs of bodies and thick metal doors. He turned to the rest of them. “I think I know where she is,” He said.

The van had pulled up in front of an old hospital building that afternoon. “Alright, we’re here where Wooyoung said it was,” Yunho looked over at the back. Yeosang stood out from the rest of them with his striped suit and walking stick. “This is the place, right?”

Wooyoung looked out the window. “Yeah it is.”

“The morgue?” Hongjoong asked.

“Yep, that’s where I have a feeling they’re keeping her,” Wooyoung muttered. “I can’t be sure, but it’s worth looking.”

“Then what are we waiting for? We have to get in there,” Jongho took his nunchaku out while Mingi opened the door.

All of them got down from the van, Yeosang looking especially conscious and walking behind them as they opened the doors to enter the morgue. The cold air hit them as they stepped inside, noticing that no one was around, not even a security guard. “Strange how there isn’t anyone watching,” San said.

“It’s a morgue, I don’t think anyone would think of coming in here unless it’s to identify a body or turn in one,” Hongjoong shrugged as they scattered to look around. “Well, we’re here now, where would she be?” He turned to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung felt around the doors, partly realizing how he had quickly taken to this ability of his to sense memories and events. Yeosang observed them, the rest of them pausing when he approached the column of three doors on the left. He ran his walking stick on the side until he tapped the doors. “If I remember correctly, yes,” He turned the handle of the middle door clockwise, the entire column of doors opening to reveal a secret passage lit with torches.

The air coming from behind the doors felt damp and there was a faint whistling of the wind in the darkness that was ahead of them despite the torches illuminating part of the way. “Funny how there’s so much more to this place than we thought,” Mingi mumbled, keeping his lighter on as the eight of them approached the passage.

“This is the way?” Yunho said.

“Yes, at least from what I remember, I haven’t been here in decades, well, she invited me down here,” Yeosang replied simply, immediately taking a step inside when San pointed the arrow of his harpoon gun at him.

“Alright then,” Yunho nodded, making the rest of them follow him down the dark path. The door closed behind them. “Who is she trying to have her children summon from above?” He suddenly remembered what Yeosang told them before they had fallen asleep.

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me anything about who she plans on having summoned here, other than Ose’s ascent,” Yeosang said over his shoulder. “Probably sore at me even more now,” He muttered under his breath as they walked down the slightly rocky path.

The further they walked, the more torches began to light up. They realized that they were walking down a spiral path, and as they were approaching the bottom, they found a crowd of people whose appearances and identities were obscured by the crimson red robes and hoods they were wearing. In front of them was a woman whose face was obscured with a shawl but was cloaked in the same crimson red robe.

“...It’s a good time to come up with a plan now,” Mingi muttered to them as they stepped back, hiding themselves behind the pillars.

Yunho stared at the formation of the hooded figures. “Where is Mirae?” He asked, glancing over at Wooyoung, who was watching the figures move.

“Is she not here?” Wooyoung mouthed, and Yunho shook his head, having a better view of the area. “...Oh no.”

“She’s in N Tower, damnit!” Yunho realized, frowning in frustration.

“We don’t have much time, some of you go with Yunho to N Tower, the rest of us will try and tear these guys apart,” Hongjoong suggested. “For Mirae, and the world.”

“For Mirae, and the world,” They nodded.

“Leave Madame Seo to me,” Yeosang removed the concealed dagger from his walking stick again. “You and San better go. Tell Mirae I said hello.”

The spikes were protruding from Jongho’s arms and legs again, and he stifled his cries of pain as it pierced through the fabric of his clothes.

“Ose, Ose, Ose, Ose,” The crowd began to chant as they bowed several times in front of the woman.

“Try not to kill anyone, try,” Yunho said to them.

“You and I both know that cannot be guaranteed,” Yeosang gave him a look. “Death is sometimes the answer.”

“That’s why I said try,” Yunho muttered.

“Something tells me we have visitors in our midst,” They heard Madame Seo say, stopping the bowing that was happening in front of her. “Yeosang? My love? Is that you? You seem to have brought friends with you, why don’t you come out?” She asked in a honeyed voice.

Yeosang stepped out, sheathing his knife in his walking stick again and looking calm. “I couldn’t resist coming back here, you showed me this place once before, I seem to vividly remember us having a good time here for 24 hours, was it?”

“Oh I remember that very well, you showed me how strong you’ve gotten, and the many other moves you’ve learned from where was it? The Kama Sutra?” He could tell she was grinning. Madame Seo looked over his shoulder. “Come out, come out, I love me some strapping young men with weapons. Don’t bother teleporting though, you’ll find that it can be quite useless in here,” She looked at Yunho rather pointedly.

Yunho stepped out from the shadows, making the rest of them follow suit while several suited men appeared to take each of them, bringing them to the middle of the room. “Where is Mirae?” He asked.

“Oh my, you’re- Why you’re Mirae’s love, aren’t you? I’m not surprised, a handsome young man like you and-” Madame Seo paused upon giving him a once-over. “An immortal, no less.”

“Again, where is Mirae?”

“She’s somewhere safe, depending on how you look at it,” Madame Seo chuckled. “So, at last, here in front of me we’ve got the ones who have been looking for us, after quite a few warnings not to. By now, knowing what you know, there is a place for you in our circle, Ose would be pleased to have warriors like yourselves leading the charge in what would be the biggest purge on Earth.”

Madame Seo snapped her fingers, and a few hooded figures entered carrying small bowls of the gold powder towards her. “I’m sure you know what this is, right? It can either release your inhibitions, or release your worst instincts, depending on who you are,” She felt the powder between her fingers.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Yunho was glowering at her. “Where is Mirae?”

“Impatient, are we? Well, contrary to your thinking that she may be at N Tower, she isn’t,” Madame Seo shook her head and removed her shawl.

The hooded figures bowed and the rest of them stared at her. Madame Seo’s face was feline-like. “You missed me going down on you, didn’t you?” She glanced at Yeosang, who remained calm. She clapped her hands, and the figures carrying the bowls of powder backed away. “Reveal to them the future,” She said to them, and they pulled down on a lever.

The ground underneath them began to turn, the surroundings changing into what looked like an old operating room used by doctors to perform demonstrations of procedures. There was a space at the back that was lined with several stones that had markings. Yunho felt like collapsing upon seeing Mirae.

She was strapped to a kind of chair that had needles pointing at her nape, her wrists, and her spine. Mirae was wearing the familiar electric collar, and she was beginning to regain consciousness. “Remove the collar,” Madame Seo instructed, and the two hooded figures followed, taking the collar off of Mirae’s neck with a few clicks.

A few more hooded figures began to appear, pushing a television monitor that featured the special of the idol group. “This handy dandy machine that your Mirae is strapped to, can extract the essence of who she is, her mutant essence.”

“If you plan on killing her, fat chance,” San spoke.

“Oh I know that. Mirae’s just going to go through a lot of pain, spinal injections are painful after all,” Madame Seo smiled. She took out a small vial full of murky, red liquid from her pocket. “We’ve tested out the initial extraction from her by the way,” She held it up in front of them. “Painful, very, very, painful. But unfortunately more is needed.”

Madame Seo put the vial in a compartment of another machine that resembled a laser that was pointing at the marked stones. A loud whirring sound was coming from the machine. Before they could take a step further, they were suddenly held back by the hooded figures behind them, while the rest that were watching began to chant again.

Mirae’s eyes were opening and she gaped upon seeing Yunho. “Yunho- Yunho!” She yelled, struggling to get out, only to be overpowered, feeling her strength wane even further than the first time.

“Mirae!” Yunho struggled as well but to no avail. He was soon caught in a headlock, with his hands behind his back. “Mirae!”

An evil smile played across Madame Seo’s features and she turned on the machine that Mirae was strapped to. Tears were falling down the sides of Mirae’s face as the needles began to pierce through her wrists and then her nape. Mirae let out a scream, her eyes beginning to glow red but fading just as quickly.

The television special was beginning and they could hear the music playing. The idol group had begun to perform their first two songs. “Mirae!” Yunho kept yelling, trying his hardest to break free. “Mirae!!”

“It’s so easy to get the best of people when they care about each other,” Madame Seo watched them with an amused expression on her face. “Increase the pressure,” She instructed the figures, who turned up the speed level of the needles drilling into Mirae.

She turned to San and blew the gold powder at his face. San’s eyes were turning red and he collapsed, squirming in his place at what he was beginning to see. She blew the gold powder onto the rest of their faces. Madame Seo began to chant the familiar Latin phrase they had heard. The beginning is the end is the beginning. Yunho tried to maneuver himself to break free, taking a deep breath when the gold powder was blown into the air.

“Mirae dead, Mirae dead, and it’s all my fault, all my fault,” San looked shaken, eyes still red. “Mirae dead, Mirae dead, it’s all my fault…”

“San! Mirae’s not dead!” Yunho managed to finally overpower the figure that was restraining him, only to be thrown to the other side of the room due to the figure’s strength. “San! You’ve got to help me!” He called out, trying to wrestle with the figure who had grown larger. “All of you! Help!”

Wooyoung quickly unsheathed his katanas, keeping his nose covered as he attempted to slice through the figure that restrained him, who brought in a sledgehammer. “Shit,” He collapsed, squirming as the dust had gotten to him as well.

The music played louder, and Yunho could see a beam of light coming from the background of the idol group that was dancing. Mirae’s screams were dying down, her strength declining, the more the needles penetrated her body. “Mirae!” He rushed forward only to be knocked away by Madame Seo herself.

“I think not, Yunho,” She said, getting into a stance.

“Oh I think so,” Yunho charged at her.

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.12 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has some wheels now and he has directions, now he only needs to start down the path!

Read ‘Down the Garden Path’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch’s good mood lasted right about as long as it took to get back to the store. Not that he replaced it with a bad mood, nah, he was still pretty darn cheerful. But now that paybacks were done, it was time to put on his working hat, so to speak. To begin with, his new bike needed a thorough checking over; a skeleton could not travel on wheels alone, not unless he went back for roller skates. He needed to make sure the rest of the bike would get him to where he needed to go, too.

There was a ramshackle garage squatting behind the store, the siding a grungier match to the building up front and the cracked windows too filthy to peer inside. The roll-up door was rusted shut, but the side door was unlocked. Stretch opened it a crack and dared to look inside, braced for anything. Bats, rats, creepy crawlies, who the hell knew what grew inside the sheds in a town with possibly man-eating corn.

If there were any beasties, crawly or otherwise, they stayed hidden behind the wispy cobwebs or in their holes. What he did find was a lot of junk, piled in heaps, spilling out of bins and stacked on shelves. There was enough crap that if Red wanted, he could start a side business as a resale shop and give Miss Maggie some competition, mysterious message from the oracle not included, although tetanus was still on the table.

As curious as some of the objects were, and damn, he could stir up some trouble on the /whatisthisthing reddit with all this, now was not the time for distractions from the main questline, not when victory was in sight.

It didn’t take too much rummaging to find a bike pump and a small metal toolbox that for a wonder, actually had tools in it. He carried both back into the sunshine where the patient was waiting and got to work.

Stretch was never going to earn a paycheck as a handyman, but he did know a little about bicycles. Chara had one and so did their friends and he’d gotten suckered into helping with maintenance a few times by a set of big brown eyes pleading their case. Even had his own bike back home, though it hadn’t been used in a long time. A nice little ten speed with glittery orange paint and a thick padded seat to make up for his lack of pillowy booty surrounding his tailbone. Once upon a time, that bike got pretty decent amount of use, but that fairytale wasn’t one he wanted to get into right now.

This old rattletrap had exactly two speeds; go and stop. The tires were a little bald, but luckily, they took air without issue. The chain was rusty, but it responded readily to some WD-40 lubing and a little foreplay, the tramp. He checked all the bolts and sprockets, wiped off the seat and the little wire basket, and for good measure, gave the horn a good squeeze, setting off a hoarse ‘awooga’ into the still afternoon. Height was a bit of an issue, Stretch wasn’t ever gonna earn the nickname ‘short stuff’, not unless the next fairytale he stumbled into was Jack and the Beanstalk, but he managed to get the seat up enough that he wouldn’t jam himself in the chin with a knee.

Once he was done, he wheeled the bike out to the road and gave it a test drive, tooling up and down the main road. It worked fine, the tires crunching over the gravel, and when he gave the horn a honk as he sailed past Mama’s, he could see people looking through the windows at him, some of them raising their hands in a wave.

He turned around past the sheriff’s and headed back, pedaling slowly. The inkling of an idea was taking hold at the back of his mind, winding its way in like paint dripping down a wall and puddling in his brain pan. Yeah, the bike was fine and all, but he’d been ‘fine’ pedaling along back in Ebott, hadn’t he. Taking little rides in the traditional manner on his shiny, fancy bike that he hadn’t bought and didn’t use the other nine speeds on.

Well, he wasn’t in Ebott anymore, and maybe fine wasn’t good enough. All things could use a little improvement, right, even bikes.

Decision made, he headed back to the shed. He didn’t know if any of this crap was Red’s (and seriously, what was that thing with the handles and the springs, it looked like an eggbeater on steroids) or if it’d been here when he moved in, but it was all covered with enough dust that there probably wasn’t anyone around to mourn the loss. The rolling door responded to a tickle and grope of WD-40 as well as the bike chain had and Stretch ran it up, forging his way through the trash jungle. He managed to clear out enough space to haul out the bulky item he’d noticed early partially hidden under a drop cloth and got to work.

By the time he was nearly done, he was sweaty and filthy, but about ready to celebrate his triumph and thank the Academy. He’d shed his t-shirt, using it instead as a rag to wipe his forehead and if anyone spotting him as they walked down the sidewalk had a problem with his bare bones, no one made a fuss about it like they would have back in Ebott. There was a whole Karen Brigade back there worried about nudity and Monsters, seriously, those people would force a moldsmal into some boxer shorts if they had a chance.

He glanced up at the bang of the side door closing to see Red and the dog headed his way. Red was carrying a brimming glass of iced sweet tea as he limped along. He cursed with colorful flair as the dog danced its way in front of him, making him slop tea over his fingers as he tried not to trip himself with his own cane. He aimed a halfhearted kick at the dog that missed by a mile. The dog only barked gleefully, darting over to Stretch, tongue at the ready for a taste test to verify Stretch was as yummy today as he’d been last night.

Stretch only laughed and tried to hold the dog back in a feeble effort to avoid those eager licks. “easy, pal, you saw me a couple hours ago!”

“he probably don’t remember, mutt has a brain the size of a peanut,” Red growled. He handed it over the tea wordlessly, giving the newly-redesigned bike a once-over as Stretch gulped it down gratefully.

“what the hell are you up to out here?” Red asked. He paused by the remains of the push lawnmower that was laid open like an autopsy, poking it absently with his cane, “and what happened here?

“i…uh…may have borrowed the engine,” Stretch admitted sheepishly.

“borrowed,” Red snorted. “uh huh. seen this kind of borrowing before, usually turns into keepsies right quick.”

“i can put it back—” Stretch started uncertainly. Red waved him off, watching in bemusement as the dog took advantage of the distraction to lick right into Stretch’s mouth and left him sputtering in disgust.

“nah, ain’t used the damn thing in ages,” Red said. “i pay a local kid to mow these days. may as well donate the innards before it gets buried.”

No surprise there. Even after last night's stormy weather tantrum, the ground had dried right up again in the morning sunshine. The mud puddles all dried into cracked divots and whatever grass was left was a charming shade of dead. Walking across it was like taking a stroll through a giant bowl of shredded wheat,

Red wandered back to the bike, his browbone slowly rising as he examined it. “you get that from old madge?” he asked neutrally.

Stretch closed his sockets briefly to block him out. The glass in his hand was down to rapidly melting ice cubes and dripping with condensation. He pressed to cool surface to his forehead, letting the cold wetness soothe him as he said, "okay, what. what's wrong with it.”

Red gave him a startled look, “huh?"

“no, i mean it,” Stretch said insistently. “don’t blow smoke up my ass, what's wrong? do purchases from her come with a darker, deeper price unknown? is all her shit haunted? does riding it commit my soul to the forces of evil? if I rub it does a genie come out, what?” He waved a hand at the possibly monster bike and not the kind of Monster listed on his personal I.D. “tell me now, don’t play sphinx with me, not today.”

Red snorted loudly and pulled out a little cylinder from his pocket. He shook out a toothpick and stuck it between his teeth. “nah, but it might break on ya two miles down the road.” His grin turned wolfish. “getting a little paranoid, dontcha think, city boy?”

“no,” Stretch said, shortly.

Red only chuckled. “only thing wrong with that bike is what you frankensteined onto it. hope that thing actually runs or blowing smoke up your ass is gonna be the least of your problems.”

“it’ll run.” Okay, so he was about 95% sure it was gonna run. Maybe 90%. The engine he’d scavenged from the old lawnmower was strapped to the package carrier on the back of the bike, hooked up to the back wheel with a few extra gears and chain he’d dug out of the garage and he’d jerry-rigged a sort of throttle to the handlebars. It wasn’t pretty, but he was sure it would run without blowing up. Pretty sure.

Sure enough to give it a try, anyway.

“uh huh,” Red rolled the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth with his tongue, neat trick around those sharky teeth of his. “where ya think your headed on that death trap, anyway?”

Yeah, okay, that brought him up short. Aside from warning him off of any booty calls, (not that Stretch was looking for any shape of booty and sure as hell wasn’t taking any calls), Red had been pretty mum when it came to opinions about him hanging out with Edge. Stretch wasn’t under any illusions that Red was unaware of the happenings in town and not only because Edge probably damn well called him so they could keep their mystery woo woos on the same frequency. Red seemed like he knew all the local gossip, hell, he was probably the unofficial town bookie, who knew what he got up to on those weekend poker games?

But Edge was Red’s baby brother and as a big brother himself, Stretch was pretty sure he’d have some mighty strong opinions on Blue inviting someone like him out for pie, much less inviting them home to meet the family. No prospects, nothing ahead of him in life. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing underwear.

And anyway, like he had any right to any fucking opinions about Blue’s life after the way he left—nope, not going there right now.

So, yeah, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to admit he was going to see Edge, except how he really didn’t. He didn’t want to see any disappointment on Red’s face or distaste or…or whatever ‘dis’ might sprout up and if Red told him to leave his bro alone, told him not to go, Stretch wouldn’t, he would never, he owed Red so much, owed him in ways Red didn’t even know about, but—but—

His mental waffling took far too long, and Red was unfortunately just as clever as Stretch feared or maybe it was the simple fact that the options of where someone could go in this town on a motorized bicycle was a pretty short list. One corner of Red’s mouth curled up in a half-smile. “headed out to the farm, huh.”

Stretch struggled with an answer and didn’t manage anything better than the obvious, “i think so?” he said meekly, “i mean, edge sort of invited me. not invited invited, it’s not like a date, not that i wouldn’t date him, except you know, i wouldn’t because it’s a bad idea right now like you said, but he said i should meet his roommate and that I’d have to go to his house to do it and—" Stretch broke off to gasp for breath and his ‘fuck, please kill me to shut me up’ was left unspoken.

“okay, okay, ease down on the gas there. you must think i'm missing my wits on top of my foot.” Red snorted. “go wherever you want, kid, don’t make me no nevermind.” The dog was settled into Stretch’s lap, sound asleep and drooling enthusiastically, and Red leaned over to give him a pat, then struggled back up to give Stretch a similar one on top of his skull. He glanced at the bike again and asked speculatively, “’bout how fast you figure this hunk a junk can go?”

“not sure,” Stretch admitted, “not too fast. maybe twelve miles an hour?”

“that a fact,” Red spat the toothpick into the dust and sucked loudly on his teeth. “hang on a mo’.” He limped through the open garage door and the sound of brisk rummaging echoed out. When he came back, grinning triumphantly, it was a bicycle helmet in hand. It was leopard-spotted, only that hideous pink-and-purple shade never graced any beast Stretch ever heard about. Perched on the top of the helmet were a pair of slightly bedraggled plastic cat ears and Stretch took it as solemnly as if he’d been handed Excalibur itself. Beggar vs chooser? Not him.

Red stuck his hands in his pockets, his cane hooked over his elbow as he rocked unsteadily on his heels, “well c’mon, then, start ��er up. i can’t stand out here forever, someone’s gotta mind the store.”

“oh!” Stretch gave the back door a guilty look, “shouldn’t you head in, someone might loot the register or something.”

“no one steals from my shop.” Coolly assured and yeah, Stretch believed it, and not only because the townsfolk were good people.

Stretch pushed the dog off his lap, ignoring its pitiful whine, and went to the bike. Here was the moment of truth. He gave the primer button a few pushes, then yanked the pull cord as hard as he could. It didn’t catch the first time, or the second, but on the third it sputtered a few times, coughed out a cloud of black smoke, then caught, puttered evenly along.

“see!” Stretch said triumphantly, speaking loudly to be heard over the blatting noise. “it didn’t blow up!”

“don’t know if that’s as reassuring as you seem to think, kid,” Red called back, but his grin was easy, “you know how to get there?”

Stretch cut the engine. He snagged his dirty t-shirt and made a fruitless attempt at wiping the grease off his hands. “down the exchange for about a mile, hang a left, don’t stray from the path.”

“s’right,” Red nodded, “you leave soon, you'll get there right around suppertime and that’s always a good time to show up on my bro’s doorstep.”

“thanks, red,” Stretch said gratefully, “thank you.”

“don't thank me yet. and kid?” Red’s crimson gaze seemed to bore into him, “whatever you see or hear, don't you leave that path."

Well, Stretch should’ve known he wasn’t getting out of here without at least a vaguely cryptic warning.

“i won’t, promise.”

Red nodded and started the slow trudge back to the store. The dog roused himself enough to follow along, tail wagging happily. Red paused at the door and called back, “tell the kid i said hi.”

“i will, but didn’t you just see edge this morning?” Stretch asked curiously.

“didn’t mean him.” Before he could ask, Red was gone back inside with a bang of the screen door, taking both dog and answers with him.

Welp, chasing after him was pointless and anyway, that question would be answered as soon as he got to Edge’s place, which it seemed he now had Red’s unofficial approval to visit. Stretch couldn’t help grinning and he hugged himself tightly, managing to smear even more grease on his bones.

Yeah, okay, he needed at least five minutes for a quick wash up before he headed out or the woods would be the least of his worries. Edge and his roomie would kick him and his stank right back out to the road before he could make it to the porch.

Stretch left the bike and his mess where it was, promising himself guiltily to handle the junk cleanup tomorrow as he headed in to wash and change, and he did not spend an extra minute considering what t-shirt would make the best first impression for the unknown roommate.

He really didn’t.

~~*~~

The first thing Stretch figured out as he started on his journey was that it was honestly a nice day for a ride. Overhead the sky was an endless blue with only a few careless puffy clouds that had no interest in interfering with the affairs of the sun. The blowing wind wasn’t afraid though, it chased away the heat, and that combined with the blatting engine made it impossible to hear much of anything.

Not that there was much to hear. He stayed off the actual road, keeping to the wayside so as not to distract any of the cars as he puttered his way along.

The directions weren’t exactly complex, only one turn that he knew of, right into the woods. Stretch found it easily enough, the paved road vanishing into dust and gravel that led into the trees.

That was where he paused, easing off the throttle and putting his feet down as he looked at the entrance.

It was only trees, their tall, sturdy trunks reaching up towards the sky and the wide, green spread of their leafy branches casting the path in shadows. There were a pair of tire ruts in the path which meant someone drove it regularly and not just Edge’s motorcycle.

Only trees, that was all. Right, just like it’d only been corn, and Stretch didn’t move, sitting there with the engine blatting cheerily and the blue sky watching over him as he waited here on the cusp of…what? Fate? Or fatality?

There was only one way to find out.

Behind him, a couple trucks zoomed on past on their way down the exchange, either heedless of his inner turmoil or foolishly assuming he knew what he was doing and honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d known what he was doing for years now.

His concerns weren’t all simply about traveling in these woods, either, despite them being the same ones Red warned him away from and no less than two people went off with the cryptic about not straying from the path. No, there was also the fact he was gonna be meeting Edge’s unknown roommate to ask questions about some of the mysteries of this place and he’d be lying if he didn’t attribute a nervous butterfly or two to that.

The blat of a horn nearly sent him leaping right out of his shorts and when he jerked around, barely catching his balance before both he and the bike spilled into the dust, he saw a group of Humans in the back of a pickup truck waving at him and probably laughing at his helmet.

He waved back, unable to help a sheepish grin, and then turned back to the path. The trees only rustled softly in the light breeze, branches lightly swaying. It didn’t seem scary and hell, he knew scary. Scary was the first time he stepped out into the sunlight after a lifetime beneath a mountain and scary was another first step, much more recently, this time onto a Greyhound bus.

“fuck it,” Stretch said, aloud. He goosed the throttle, the bike lurching forward into the woods, and the trees swallowed him up.

Only not really, not even close. Stretch really didn’t know what he’d really been expecting. That maybe he’d come across a little gal in a red hood with a picnic basket for grandma heading down the path? Or he’d stumble over some kids with a nasty stepmother backstory on a stroll, scattering breadcrumbs along the way?

Neither of those things came true. (Although if Edge and his roommate lived in a gingerbread house, he was done. He was turning his putt-putt mobile around and heading right out of this fairy tale, tout suite, and into another story. Maybe he’d see if Red’s swashbuckler needed a first mate.)

There was nothing out of the ordinary, not even the creepy vibes that the corn had given him. The woods seemed no different than wandering through the city park in Ebott.

It was a lot cooler here in the woods, not only from the speed breeze. The heavy branches were also shielding him from the overpowering heat of the sun overhead, shading him in cooling green. There were squirrels and birds darting around overhead, unperturbed by his puttering little engine-that-could, and once a deer even crossed the road in front of him, pausing to stare unafraid with large liquid eyes before heading back into the scrubby underbrush.

Hell, if he was honest, Stretch was almost disappointed. Not that he’d wanted anything to happen, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of Red having to make that search party to find his dumb ass.

But after all those warnings, he’d sort of expected something to happen, a little trouble of some kind to be peeking out from behind the trees. Then again, he’d heeded those warnings, hadn’t he, it was always the disobedient types who got turned into frogs or had flower petals spill from their mouths when they talked, wasn’t it. His interest in adventure was definitely on the other side of the scale over his desire not to spit slugs or something, so he was erring on the side of not borrowing trouble.

His disappointment in the woods vanished completely though as he came up on what Red had so quaintly referred to as ‘the farm’.

The dinky path rounded a curve, the trees opening up into a clearing, and Stretch could only stare, dumbly easing down on the throttle until the bike slowed to a stop.

Well, it looked like all his expectations were taking a trip through the funhouse today, now didn’t it.

After seeing Red’s place, he hadn’t really been thinking much about the state of Edge’s homestead, what was there to consider, anyway? It was a cabin in the woods…on a farm…okay, so his logic was a little thin, he hadn’t prepped his anticipation very well on the journey. But whatever he’d imagined paled in comparison to reality.

The actual house looked like a log cabin, sure, but one that took a nibble from Alice’s ‘eat me’ cake. It was huge, with large windows shuttered in green beneath a wide, gabled roof trimmed in scrolling eaves, and a covered porch lined with cozy rocking chairs circling the first floor. Flat stones made a winding walkway that led to the front door and there were flowers lining the path in a riot of brilliant, ankle-high colors. Smoke was curling from the rooftop despite the overall warmth of the day and it scented the air with the welcoming aroma of woodsmoke.

The overall effect was one of one of invitation and Stretch was immediately suspicious of it; not a gingerbread house, no, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a witch inside.

Then the door opened and all the doubts flitting through Stretch’s mind dissolved into impossible static. He could only stare numbly at the person that darted down the path towards him, their hair bouncing beneath their chin as they scampered down the path because it was…it was impossible.

A young human, maybe only a couple years younger than him, and they looked so much like Chara it was downright disturbing, the resemblance taking a detour from possible siblings right into uncanny valley. So much like Chara, only, Chara was just a kid, a kid, and this person who couldn’t be Chara, could not be, but looked as if they’d aged like fine wine since he’d last seen them. Or maybe curdled like old milk.

“Hello, Stretch,” they said, warmly, those familiar eyes shining, and their smile was as bright as the sun that was hidden behind the trees, “Welcome to our home.”

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #welcome to backwater

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livelivefastfree · 4 years ago

Note

have you been working on any new fics?? (your stories are wonderful, ive drowned myself in polyburners thanks to you 😔 its a good place to be)

Not really anything new, although I’ve been picking away at some older ones that I never finished! Namely the plot-heavy sequel to my telepathic soul-bond superhero AU, the intimidatingly complicated sequel to Save A Horse, Ride A Dragon, and my Burnerswap AU where the villains are all our new Burners and the Burners are villains.

Unfortunately since I’m a nurse work has been kind of stressful recently and also my brain only likes to focus on one thing at a time which is currently original novel things. So process is pretty slow, haha. But I’m glad I could bring more people into the polyburners fold!

I do feel bad that I haven’t had the energy to post much for a while; revamping my burnerswap doc is the most recent thing I’ve gotten work done on, so here’s a little bit of scene-setting!

Deluxe is a mass of spires and platforms, shimmering in the sunshine outside Red’s window. Red stares up at the ceiling, at the pale golden glow of sunlight on the pale polymer. He can hear the sound of someone loudly imitating an electric guitar, and faint thumps and thuds through the wall; Duke is taking his traditional lengthy shower and using up all their precious hot water. From the smells drifting up from downstairs, Jacob is already up and in the kitchen experimenting. Kaia is probably upstairs on the roof, tending to her plants, and Abraham had to go back down to the undercity last night. His absence is a hole; no sound of him talking to Jacob in the kitchen, working out irritatingly on Red’s balcony, yelling at Duke for using up the water. There’s always something slightly off, a little bit wrong, when part of their team is missing.

Red sits up, buckles his patch on over the remnant of his left eye, and pushes himself up out of bed to see what’s for breakfast.

Jacob is stirring something in a pan when he Red arrives. There’s a heaping basket of miscellaneous vegetables on the counter next to him, so probably Red’s in for some kind of veggie abomination this morning—but it’s a veggie abomination Red doesn’t have to make and then burn, and he doesn’t really have a sense of taste anymore, anyway. Red drops into a chair, and Jacob piles up a plate of fried vegetables and sets it wordlessly down in front of him.

It’s quiet for a while. Red eats as much as he can manage, and Jacob knows him well enough not to frown when Red has to push the plate away half-eaten.

“Quiet night?” he says, eventually.

“All quiet in the pit,” Red says, and goes to the cooler to fish out a nutrient shake instead. “No calls from Abraham. No alerts, no bots, no Dragon.”

“Mm.” Jacob shakes his head, making an unconvinced grumbling noise. “They’ll come. They always do.”

Red can’t argue that. He stayed on the edge of the platform until the small hours of the morning, looking down into the dark city far below, watching every gleam of light and flicker of movement, waiting for the first flash of red glass eyes or matte metal claws.

The others drift downstairs eventually, one at a time; Duke grimaces at the vegetable mess, but Kaia piles in with every sign of enjoyment. Red sits back and listens to Jacob and Duke bicker, Kaia’s laughing jabs at both of them indiscriminately, and lets the sunlight soften some of the harsh, nauseated fatigue.

He doesn’t realize he’s beginning to drift off, but when his comms light up red with an urgent chime, it startles him badly enough he almost drops his drink.

“Come in,” Abraham’s voice says, flat and low. “Red.”

“Copy,” says Red, and pushes himself up, already moving. The rest of his team reorders around him, Jacob heading for the garage, Duke and Kaia immediately running for their rooms, their weapons. Red picks up his gloves, feeling the circuitry inside thrum hotly against his palms. “Incoming?”

“How did you guess,” says Abraham dryly. “Three Climbers. Two on North Side, one coming up from the East. And she’s sending up the Dragon.”

Red falters in mid-step, then growls and heads down the staircase to the garage, taking the steps two at a time. “Can you make it up?”

“I can try,” Abraham says, but Red knows that tone to his voice, rough and grim. “I think she’s targeting the medical complex on platform 18. Don’t get distracted.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Red says, and Abraham gives a brief bark of a laugh and then cuts the call.

Deluxe looks beautiful in the sunlight, if beauty is something to pay attention to; Red has seen it a thousand times, growing up from the old undercity of Detroit like an indescribably huge tree made of silver and marble. The platforms that make up the city itself look almost fragile from a distance, hovertech and superlight polymers, gleaming with solar panels and greenery. The massive support structure that holds the city up grows dirtier and more patchwork as it descends into the bristling thicket of ancient, blocky concrete buildings.

Whole civilizations have made their homes on the platforms along that winding trunk. Around its base, built onto the rooftops of old skyscrapers, Red can see the distant gleam of the Casino King’s sprawling compound, gaudy with red and gold floodlights. There are urban legends about an entire lost city, one that made its living in among the building-sized struts and cables themselves, before some unspecified calamity cut all communication with them short.

Some of the midway settlements are against Kane, some of them are only indifferent, but Red can only assume that trying to bargain her way through was too much trouble. Kane took matters into her own hands, and had her R&D invent the Climbers.

Red has eyes on one of them now; a long, low shape, slinking across the platform. Six-legged, with four glowing eyes each, moving with an unnerving, artificial grace—the mechanical nightmare-offspring of a wolf and some kind of insect. The tips of their claws hum faintly, lit up—plasma-cutter edges, sharp enough to sink into the polymer like hot knives through butter. Red is a platform above them, out of their field of vision, but he’s seen the way the things scale vertical surfaces, faster than anything that size should be able to move.

As Red watches, one of them opens its mouth, showing hundreds of needle-sharp fangs lit hellish red from the inside, and lets out an awful, scraping snarl.

“I’ve got eyes on one,” Red says, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah, yeah, we see ‘em over here too,” Duke says, tight and sharp with bravado. “Easy. Let’s get it done!”

“I’ve got your back,” Kaia says. “Let’s show these things what—”

“Hey, Red,” says a voice, and something taps Red on the shoulder. “Tag.”

The moment of shock is enough to freeze Red in place for a single fraction of a second, and that’s a hesitation he can’t afford. A blunt edge slams into his ribs, knocks him over off his feet; he rolls, comes up on his feet again and sends out a blind shockwave of energy—throws himself to one side as a staff sweeps past where his ankles were, and this time when he lashes out he feels the impact strike true.

The Dragon of Detroit takes the hit and lets it bowl him backwards, turns the motion into a back-handspring and comes to a skidding halt, shaking overgrown brown bangs out of his dark eyes. He’s laughing, smiling as wide and wild as he always does; the deep scar that stretches crookedly from his cheekbone to his chin twists his smile into something just slightly crooked and bitter, but his laugh sounds irritatingly, insultingly genuine.

“Chilton,” Red snarls, and the man spins his staff behind his back and sweeps a bow, grinning.

“I’m guessing you’re not interested in doing this the easy way, kid,” he says, and Red clenches his fists, lightning crawling up his arms. “Yeah, I didn’t figure. Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“The fuck I can’t,” Red snaps, and Chilton huffs out a breath and shakes his head, ever-present smile never fading. “If you really cared about not hurting anybody you wouldn’t be working for that—”

It’s the flicker of Chilton’s eyes that gives it away, and the faintest sound of scraping metal; Red dives to one side on instinct, just in time to avoid the snap of jagged metal jaws and six sets of wickedly-clawed feet. He comes up swinging, lands a few solid hits; the Climber shrieks as one of its legs spasms and cracks, red lightning and dented metal grinding in one of its back legs.

“Backup!” Red snaps into his comm, and then there’s only the fight.

He’s being distracted, he knows it even while it’s happening, but he can’t break his focus away long enough to care. Chilton is gone, he has to be raiding that medical compound, and Red is stuck here, fighting some stupid robot—

“Heads up!” yells a voice, and Red glances up and then back-pedals abruptly as a huge, blocky shape comes rocketing off the next platform up and drops like a comet onto the Climber’s head. The back half of the bot gives a meaty crunch as Jacob’s construction rig lifts back off of it, leaking nasty, thick, black fluid as it tries to drag itself forward on its two remaining legs; Red steps forward, grimacing in distaste, tears a dented plate away and buries his hand in the things neck to deliver one final, merciless jolt. The Climber whirrs, gives a gurgling growl, and finally goes still.

“Jumpin’ Josephat,” says Jacob, from inside the clunky, ugly cube he calls a hovercar. “You still in one piece down there?”

“Where’s Chilton?!” Red says, and then jerks and looks up at the sound of a laugh, echoing off the white walls and walkways around them.

The Dragon is standing at the very edge of the platform, silhouetted against the sky; he makes eye contact with Red, brief and grinning, one hand on the side of a stolen transport pod. Then he throws off a brief, mocking salute, and launches himself backwards off the edge of the platform into thin air, vanishing over the edge.

“Criminy,” says Jacob weakly, because Jacob is an 80-year-old man in a 20-year-old body.

“Fuck,” Red hisses, and slams a fist down on the ground, leaving lightning-jagged scorch marks across the white polymer. Takes a few breaths and repeats, “…fuck,” soft and hoarse, poisonous in his mouth.

“Yeah,” says Jacob, and his boots thump softly as he slides down, his hand settles carefully on Red’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get back to the others.”

#AltU: Burnerswap #the work on the SAHRAD sequel is mostly planning because the content itself needed a structure before I could actually start #I'm ngl there's enough work involved in finishing that one that I don't know how/if I'm going to be able to get it done #but I'd like to #the superhero one is actually like #WAY closer to being finished than either of them #but the remaining stuff is stuff that I'm having trouble cleaning up and closing so I'm stalled out SIGH #oh man tho when I finish it up...THE DRAMA......#Anonymous

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silencebetrayer · 4 years ago

Text

Little People - An Irish Fairy Tale Part 2

The reign of dreams and roses

"Don't bother them, my dear. You were lucky they found your little trap hilarious!" "Mister O'Reilly, what happened in this valley? Why is everyone warning me against the little people?" A long silence followed, during which the old man sipped his Connemara peated whiskey. "Sweetheart, you may hear a lot of tales down at the pub, but also in our family there's something to tell. You've never known your cousin Billy, haven't you? Well, he might tell you about that time he became slave of the Queen of Spiny Roses for a whole moon cycle." "Slave?" "Don't be surprised. They're ancient souls. They conceive only those rapports they can understand and here in the citadel for a thousand years there was a Count and his servants. They don't understand this free life thing, without owners, where everyone seems equal to each other. They have a very strict hierarchy and I can promise you.. if you keep giving enough rope, they will tie you up. At least, that's what happened to Billy." "What did Billy have to do for the Queen?" "At that time Billy would have sold his soul to fill his glass, to those vices the good people like to cling. A night in the woods a little crowd of fairies bumped into giant Billy, the Queen ordered her folks to bring their guest a glass of the bitter Spirit's nectar. He guzzle that witches' brew without a single word. He could swear it was tasty like ambrosia of all forgotten Gods. The Queen claimed a payment for his drink and Billy started to mock her 'Is it I pay you?' said Billy 'could I not just take you up and put you in my pocket as easily as a blackberry?' The Queen did not let go of that insolence and the good lords tightened the invisible harness they caught him in and led him to their ruler like a steed. She imposed a vow of obedience till the end of next moon cycle and on occasion she showed off their rivals her power over him, claiming his tongue as footrest." "I don't get what you're saying, sir. You did tell me we've got power over fairy manifestation.. that it depends on our thoughts and our desires, our hopes and fears." The old man smiled "From what slavery would a man be freed? From drink-slavery or from a queen-slavery?" The girl understood that story was concealing a metaphor of redemption and humility. The old man's stories are indeed so bewildering: you never know where the symbol ends and the anecdote begins. "Anyway when we found Billy he was covered in stings from the waist up. He said the ball of Roses court had been held on his chest. A ball where every damsel's heel is a thorn of a flower and all skirts are petals. To us he had fallen in a field full of nettles." "What a strange story. I would never be enslaved by such a wicked Queen. Why didn't he rise up against her, I wonder." The old man shrugged muttering a proverb of his parts "The lake is not burdened by its swan, the steed by its bridle, or a man by the soul that is in him".

***

That night Elizabeth wrote a quick note in Gaelic by the windowsill:"I want to meet you. Come and see me.". She left a sugar cube as gift. The girl rolled over her bed restlessly, hoping her message would reach its destination and, as often happens, sleep came all of a sudden, like a swoon. She found herself in a very strange place never seen before. It resempled an ancient kitchen on the basement of a castle, with no windows, red briks as walls and roof, painted cardboard as wallpaper on one side, a makeshift chimney. Outside the noise of the rain was heavy and emptied out of the comforting sensation with which it gifted melancholic souls. She was identifying in that room a combination of minuscule things. All chairs were small wooden cubes of an old child's game, and so was the table. They weren't comfy, but pieces of cloth stuffed with wool, roughly sewn, gave softness to the seat. A pocket mirror served as tray for a miniature porcelaine tea set, a bit chipped, but lovely at first sight. The sugar cube she had left in gift was lying right next to it, with an awl sticked at its center. The girl realized she was falling in a bizarre dream scenario, but something real was also taking place. "Is this a dream?" "Of course, little girl" answered a middle-aged male voice from the outside. The small door of that sort of kitchen was a metal shutter. A man was moving it with his shoulder, carrying a bundle of sticks or twigs bound together and a bucket of water. Covered with a waterproof plastic bag, the man laid down all the materials and cast a glance over the table to be sure everything was in place. His big nose and bushy eyebrows gave him an austere touch and there was something of the craftsman's wisdom in his skilled hands and his silence. He hunged his unusual coat on the knight's head of a chessboard (his clothes rack, she guessed). The girl was paralyzed and hugged herself in the nightgown. She wasn't cold, the atmosphere was warm enough, she was feeling a sense of vulnerability that made her closed off. The man took care of the fireplace and fill the water on the teapot. "Come closer to the fireplace, kid!" He had a raspy voice and an unjustified scowl to her feeling. "Why'd you bring me here?" He looked her up and down like a fool, then he nodded toward the table where a piece of paper was serving as tablecloth. 'I want to meet you.' read the girl, recognizing her handwriting. "But.. are you Tuvia!?" After a moment of silence, during which the man was trying to catch the sincerity of the question, he laughed outright "AHAHAH Me? That leaf in the wind? Do I seem a rain spirit?! I thought you were a smart one, kid, but if these are the premises.." The girl didn't seem to appreciate the little man humour "So Sir.. you picked up a message that was not addressed to you. Why should you interfere with my correspondence?!" "Correspondence? Look, sweetie.. what do you think we have a mail service here in Bluebell forest? We give more values to a tree then your own kind.. we don't waste their sheets for a futile message." "Who the hell are you, anyway? Little people? What are you doing here in my dreams?" "That's how we meet for the first time. We don't accept invitations from strangers." The teapot started to splutter on the fireplace, the steam bubbles looked like small domes and the water sounded so much deeper then usual.. she understood that her size was making every sound so alien and unsettling. From the infusion aromas of wildflowers started to spread in the room. "What's your name?" "My dear, what sort of question is that? I'm the guardian spirit of O'Really's family. My name's O'Really, of course" "So.. Do Guardian spirits take the name from the family they protect?" He didn't answer. He didn't seem to like rhetorical question, but was forcing himself to stay kind and served the tea calmly with a piece of sugar cube in it. "Listen, child. We Home spirits don't talk more than is strictly necessary. Our silence is our invisibility. So let me get right to the point: you heard elder O'Reilly advice before.. Do not upset the spirits of these woods. He's telling you this for your own good" Being called 'child" from that Spirit turned Elizabeth against him. She changed attitude and the tone of voices turned sharp and bitter. "So you just don't collect someonelse's letters, you also eavesdrop their conversations!" Talking to her was a great exercise in patience, he acknowledged. "It's not what you're thinking.. I can't just ignore whatever happens inside these walls. We're born from the feelings of this family, if they are worried for you, so am I. That's why I appear in your dream." "I weep from your sudden sentimentality" she said sarcastically "but I'm willing to bet that you were able to eavesdrop on our conversations simply because your lair is not so far from the fireplace" "I'm warning you, don't try to find it. You'd cause trouble to the O'Really family!" "Perhaps you should've considered that before you invited me in first place, you silly little man! Now, give this KID here a good reason she should not wake up and start to play cat-and-mouse game with you?" She sipped the tea, staring at the little spirit with an imperious smile that didn't bode well. "A reason, you say? With humans reasoning is not persuasive. I just pointed the sill you shall not cross, my dear, I didn't mean to push you through it" "Advice I didn't ask for" she crossed her arms and the situation freezed up. The home spirit resigned himself. "How do I wake?" she asked. "Don't worry, soon enough you'll be laying in your bed. Humans have control over the waking hours, but we spirits have our revenge in dreams realm. You're lucky we didn't inherit your cruelty. Anyway, if I can't dissuade you, I will be your messenger and maybe one day I will lead you to Tuvia" "I don't get if you're here to sabotage me or to help me" "We should not threaten the delicate balance currently in place in Bluebell forest. The Queen of Roses is the keeper of this equilibrium, she can't bear humans intrusiveness into her reign. Especially from someone that does look like her." "Do I look like the Queen of Roses?" Elizabeth's questions were to him as sharp and wit as the echo of a well. "Tuvia fought The Court of Roses, you know?" "That light thingie? He's fragile like a blade of grass. I bet if I dare to lay down in the garden he'd become a stain on my dress. Also, if he's so brave why isn't he in the forest, why doesn't he just keep fighiting?" "He's an exile, he no longer knows the comfort of a border. He's devoted to the rain, cause he sees himself and his destiny in the clouds. A new Queen would save him. But he doesn't want to be saved!" The Spirit of O'Reilly got pretty mouthy with sadness. Elizabeth recognized some of the distinctive features of elder Mr O'Reilly and the hardness of Mrs O'Reilly too. A weird mix of both personality traits. Elizabeth sipped the infusion, this time fully enjoying the aroma of freshly picked flowers. She felt her body tossing in her sleep.. she didn't want to wake right now. O'Reilly spirit stared at her then nodded as a farewell. When she opened her eyes, the Spirit's last words were echoing in her head, filling the heart with an odd hope "a new Queen.." she repeated to herself. She could have sworn to feel the wildflowers taste on the tip of her tongue.

To Be Continued...

Ita version

Il regno delle rose e dei sogni

"Non disturbarli, ragazza mia. Sei stata fortunata che abbiano preso con umorismo la tua piccola trappola! In qualche modo devono aver trovato la tua provocazione uno spasso!" "Signor O'Reilly, cosa è successo in questa valle per cui tutti mi mettono in guardia da loro" Ci fu un lungo silenzio in cui il vecchio sorseggiò il suo Whiskey, rigorosamente torbato del Connemara. "Sweetheart, ne potresti sentire un bel pò giù al pub. Ma in famiglia abbiamo già di che raccontare. Tu non lo hai mai conosciuto il cugino Billy. Beh, lui potrebbe dirti di quella volta che restò schiavo per una luna intera della regina delle fate Rosa Spinae." "Schiavo?" "Non ti stupire, sono anime antiche, concepiscono solo i rapporti che conoscono e per più di 1000 anni qui nella rocca c'era un conte e i suoi servi, non la capiscono questa faccenda moderna del vivere senza padroni, dove tutti sembrano uguali eccetera. Hanno una rigida gerarchia e puoi giurarci che se continui a dargli spago ti daranno il bel servito, come fu per il vecchio Billy" "Cosa fece Billy per la regina?" "A quel tempo Billy si sarebbe dannato l'anima per riempirsi il bicchiere, ed è ai vizi che il buon popolo si appiglia. Quando una notte in un bosco la piccola schiera si imbattè in quel gigante, la regina ordinò che gli fosse portato un bicchiere del fiele degli spiriti, lui non se lo fece ripetere e lo trangugiò d'un fiato. Billy giurò che era il nettare liquoroso di tutti gli dei ormai dimenticati. La regina reclamò un pagamento e Billy la derise 'Io pagare te? Ma se posso metterti tranquillamente in tasca come una mora!' La regina non passò sopra quell'insolenza e il buon popolo lo legò a briglie invisibili che non potevano essere sciolte e quel che è peggio gli impose il voto dell'obbedienza per una luna intera. Di venne il destriero della regina, ma all'occorrenza la regina dava sfoggio di potere alle sue rivali, reclamando la lingua del gigante come poggiapiedi" "Non mi torna quel che dite, signore. Avevate detto che noi abbiamo potere sulla manifestazione delle fate e che dipendono dai nostri desideri" Il vecchio sorrise "Quale schiavitù potrebbe desiderare un uomo? Quella del suo bicchiere o della sua regina?" La ragazza capì che quella storia celava una metafora di redenzione e umiltà. Avevano questo di disorientante, i racconti del vecchio: non sapevi mai dove finiva il simbolo e cominciava l'aneddoto. "Comunque quando lo trovarono Billy era ricoperto di punture dalla vita in su. Disse che sul suo petto si era tenuto il ballo della corte delle Rosa Spinae, in cui ogni damigella ha per tacco una spina di un fiore e per gonna i suoi petali, ma per molti era solo caduto su un campo di ortiche" "Che storia strana. Ma io non sarei mai schiava di una regina così perfida. Perchè non si è ribellato, mi chiedo?" commentò lei "Il cigno non pesa sul suo lago, la briglia non pesa al suo cavallo, né l'anima sull'uomo che la possiede" cantilenò l'uomo, facendo spallucce.

Quella notte scrisse una piccola nota in gaelico che lasciò davanti al davanzale. Diceva soltanto: "Voglio conoscervi. Venitemi a trovare", lasciò una zolletta di zucchero in dono. Si rigirava nel letto inquieta, nella speranza che il messaggio arrivasse a destinazione, e come spesso accade il sonno arrivò come un deliquio, senza preavviso. Si ritrovò in un luogo che non aveva mai visto prima d'ora. Una specie di antica cucina, senza finestre, mattoni rossi tutt'intorno, carta da parati di cartone con le sembianze di un giardino davano più respiro alla stanza. Fuori il rumore della pioggia era pesante e svuotato della sensazione di conforto che regala agli animi malinconici. Individuava negli oggetti della stanza una combinazione di cose minuscole. Le sedie erano piccoli cubetti di legno, appartenuti a qualche antico gioco. così come il tavolo. Non erano per nulla comodi, ma i pezzi di stoffa imbottita e cucita grossolanamente davano sollievo alla seduta. Uno specchietto da beauty asserviva alla funzione di vassoio sul quale erano poggiate tazzine che potevano provenire da un servizio da the in miniatura per bambole di porcellana, un pò sbeccato, ma grazioso a vedersi. La zolletta che aveva donato stava su un lato del ripiano di legno, con una specie di punteruolo conficcato al suo centro. La ragazza capì che era un sogno, ma aveva qualcosa di reale. "E' un sogno, questo?" "Certo, ragazzina" Rispose la voce di un uomo di mezza età dall'esterno. La porticina della cucina non era che un pezzo di serranda di ferro, l'uomo entrò con in mano dei legnetti rilegati e un secchiello d'acqua, avvolto in un impermeabile di tela. Poggiò l'occorrente a lato della porta, le sopracciglia cespugliose gli conferivano un'aria severa e le mani vissute, una saggezza artigianale. Appese l'insolito impermeabile sulla testa di un cavallo di scacchiera, che evidentemente fungeva da appendiabiti. La ragazza era paralizzata e si stringeva nella sua camicia da notte, non per il freddo, l'atmosfera era calda nonostante il rifugio sembrasse improvvisato, erano le pareti laterali di mattone ad emanare calore, ma avvertiva un senso di vulnerabilità che la faceva chiudere a riccio. L'uomo si premurò di accendere il fuoco in un buco del mattone e di riempire la teiera sospesa sul paiolo sostenuto da una corda e un ago, dalla capocchia ornata da una manigliuola. "Vieni più vicino alla luce del fuoco, ragazzina!" Aveva una voce roca e il tono presentava un cipiglio ingiustificato agli occhi di lei. "Si può sapere perchè mi trovo qui?" L'uomo la squadrò come a darle della matta, poi con un cenno del capo fece notare che la tavola era apparecchiata sul suo frammento di pergamena "Voglio conoscervi", riconobbe la ragazza. La sua scrittura. "Ma.. siete.. siete Tuvia?!" Dopo un attimo di silenzio, in cui l'uomo la fissava per cogliere in lei la sincerità della sua domanda, scoppiò in una fragorosa risata "AHAHAH Io? Quell'uccell di bosco di Tuvia!? Ho l'aria da piovano, io? Ti credevo sveglia ma se queste sono le premesse.." La ragazza non sembrava aver apprezzato l'umorismo dell'omino "Allora signore.. avete forse raccolto un messaggio non rivolto a voi!? Come vi permettete di interferire con la mia Corrispondenza!" "Corrispondenza? Senti dolcezza, cosa pensi che abbiamo il servizio postale in quel di Bluebell? Noi ai fogli d'albero diamo ben altro valore. Non lo sprechiamo per messaggi futili e sconsiderati." "Chi diavolo siete voi e che ci fate nei miei sogni?" "E' così che ci si incontra noi, la prima volta! Non accettiamo inviti dagli sconosciuti" La teiera cominciava a scoppiettare sul fuoco, le bolle di vapore avevano un aspetto cupolare e un suono più cupo del normale, dovevano essere quelle dimensioni a rendere ogni rumore anche il più familiare totalmente estraneo e inquietante. Nella stanza cominciò a diffondersi un odore di fiori che proveniva dall'infuso. "Come vi chiamate?" "Che razza di domanda è? Sono lo spirito protettore degli O'Reilly, quindi mi chiamo come loro" "Gli spiriti protettori portano il nome della famiglia?" Non rispose, sembrava un pò scocciato dalla retoricità delle domande, ma la ragazza aveva l'impressione che si sforzasse di essere gentile. Aveva messo in infusione una manciata di briciole di the e polline che raccoglieva da una bustina dilaniata come un sacchetto. Versò l'infusione nella tazzina che stava di fronte a lei. Staccò un paio di pezzi dalla zolletta per lei, sapeva persino come prendeva il the. "Ascolta ragazzina, noi spiriti della casa non parliamo più dello stretto necessario. Il nostro silenzio è la nostra invisibilità, quindi fammi andare al punto: Hai sentito cosa ha detto il buon vecchio O'Reilly stasera no? 'Non disturbare gli spiriti del bosco', lo ha detto per il tuo bene." Al sentirsi chiamare 'ragazzina' il tono della voce di lei si fece più risentito e squillante "Quindi oltre che profanatore di lettere, anche un origliatore maleducato" L'omino sospirò con enorme esercizio di pazienza "Non è come pensi.. non mi è possibile ignorare quello che succede entro queste mura, siamo nati dai sentimenti della famiglia che ha costruito questa casa. Se ti appaio in sogno è perchè questa famiglia si preoccupa per te" "il vostro sentimentalismo mi commuove" disse sarcasticamente, "ma sono pronta a scommettere che voi avete origliato per il semplice fatto che questo vostro rifugio si trova vicino al focolare" "Ti avverto ragazzina, non cercare di trovarlo, causeresti un dolore agli O'Reilly" "Dovevate pensarci prima di invitarmi qui, razza di stupido omino. E adesso datemi una buona ragione per cui questa 'ragazzina'" rimarcò la parola "non dovrebbe svegliarsi e venire a farvi fare la fine del topo" Sorseggiava la tazza di the adesso, fissando l'uomo con un sorriso imperioso, che non prometteva nulla di buono. "Ragioni? Se c'è qualcosa che so degli esseri umani è che la logica con voi non è persuasiva. Ho solo indicato la soglia da non varcare, ragazza mia, ma non era mia intenzione regalarvi la determinazione per attraversarla." "Il vostro consiglio non è richiesto" Incrociò le braccia. Calò un pò di gelo tra i due. Il sadismo giovanile di lei aveva fatto affiorare al viso del vecchio uno sguardo triste, leggermente rassegnato. "Come faccio a svegliarmi?" "Non ti preoccupare, presto sarai sul tuo letto, bambina. Voi avrete pur il controllo dei momenti di veglia, ma noi abbiamo la nostra rivincita nei sogni e sei fortunata che non abbiamo la vostra stessa crudeltà. Comunque.. se non posso dissuaderti, sarò il tuo messaggero e un giorno, forse, ti porterò da lui." disse quasi burbero "Quasta poi.. volevate sabotarmi e adesso vorreste anche farmi da guida" "La foresta di Bluebell si basa su un fragile equilibrio, il custode di quell'equilibrio, la Regina delle Rose, non ama l'invadenza umana, specie da una che le somiglia così tanto" "Io... somiglierei alla Regina?" Ignorò ancora quelle domande che avevano la stessa arguzia dell'eco di un pozzo. "Tuvia l'ha combattuta, sai.. la Corte delle Rose Spinae." "Quel cosino? Ma se è fragile come un filo d'erba. Scommetto che se mi stendessi in giardino, potrebbe diventare una macchia sul mio vestito. Se è così coraggioso, poi, perchè non è nella foresta a combattere?" "Lo vedi in giardino perchè è un esule e non conosce più la comodità di un confine. Si è consacrato alla pioggia, perchè si riconosce nelle nuvole. Una nuova regina.. questo lo salverebbe. E lui.. non vuole essere salvato!" Lo spirito degli O'Reilly con la tristezza si era fatto stranamente loquace, riconosceva qualcosa nel vecchio in lui, aveva la stessa dolcezza sotto una scorza dura che era più simile a quella della signora O'Reilly, uno strano mix. Elizabeth sorseggiò quell'infuso, stavolta godendone appieno l'aroma. Era come di tiglio. Avvertì che si stava agitando nel sonno. Non voleva svegliarsi proprio ora. Lo spirito degli O'Reilly la fissava e con un cenno del capo sembrò quasi accomiatarsi. Quando riaprì gli occhi sul suo letto, le ultime parole dello Spirito riecheggiavano ancora nelle sue orecchie riempiendola di non so quale speranza.. "Una nuova regina", si ripeteva. Poteva giurare di sentire ancora il sapore di tiglio sulla punta della lingua.

#fairy #sizeshifter #giantess #tiny #giant/tiny #male fairy #ireland #irlanda #gigantessa #g/t #g/t writing #g/t fiction #g/t fluff #g/t community #borrowers #g/t sfw #g/t story #g/t fantasy #gentle g/t

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megamegaturtle · 4 years ago

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golden syrup

Rating: G

Relationships: Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter (Friendship)

Tags: Post-War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Baking, Self-Love, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Hand Holding, POV Harry Potter

Summary:

Golden syrup: a thick amber-coloured form of inverted sugar syrup that tastes delicious on scones, hot cakes, and treacle tart with a buttery, caramel flavor.

Golden: something Harry Potter hasn't felt in a long while.

[the one in which Luna teaches Harry how to bake]

(For the Dumbledore's Armada Discord Flash Comp: Magic Begins From Within! Winner for Overall Favorite, Best Platonic Friendship, and Best Use of Prompt!)

Read it here on Ao3

Harry Potter welcomes the new year with a six-pack of beer and booming fireworks. It smells like war. Gunpowder screams overhead and the lively colors flash before his eyes, but no one dies at the tip of a wand. He trembles, his muscles are weak, and he is defenseless.

With each explosion, he relives every death. Cedric, in the graveyard, his face devoid of red. Green howls on the top of the Astrometry Tower and Dumbledore falls. Sirius, in a flash of blue, his body gone in a blink.

Change feels like swimming in the desolate waters of the Black Lake. It is numb and no one can save him, but Harry still swims. He longs for the shore, but breath is scarce, just like his seconds. He doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring, but he waits for it with a guarded heart.

Life slows in solitude, Harry decides. It is as cozy as an empty flat that has a drafty window. Winter creeps in every crevice and rustles the tops of cardboard boxes. Loneliness nestles in the space where his friends used to stand, but Ron and Hermione are moving on to tomorrow, with or without a plan.

He sits in a deserted living room, a ratty couch as his lonesome furniture. He stares out the window, the gray sky frozen in the sunlight. It does not thaw as the sun moves across the day. He sits there frozen too and welcomes snow to fall over his soul. He wants to be buried under soft white until he sinks into the cold.

He is the aftermath of war.

He is the definition of lost.

But someone finds him anyway.

The knock on his door is light, but persistent. The knocks continue even after a full minute. Harry gets up, his knees creak and his joints sore. He drags his feet just like his blanket clings to the floor. He trips over a cheap rum bottle; the glass echoes a shrill laugh in his flat.

His fingers glue to the doorknob and shake at welcoming someone into nothing. Hot disappointment whispers in his ear, and warm, breathy shame is enough to propel him into battle. Harry plants his feet to the ground, his body tenses for a fight. He clenches his jaw into a familiar ache.

Harry prepares for someone to drag him into a hug. He expects someone to force him back to a life with obligations. But Luna Lovegood only pauses her knocking and takes a step back. Grocery bags rest at her feet and her bottle cap necklace jingles like a blessing. She smiles up at him like she saw him yesterday.

“Hello, Harry,” she says. “I like your blanket cape.”

A blush paints his cheeks, and he clears his throat, his voice raspy. “Hey, Luna.”

Luna stares at him patiently from the threshold as Harry opens the door wide enough for her to enter. She does not comment on the state of his empty flat or how it’s been so long since she’s seen him. She only asks to be directed to the kitchen. He leads her with slow steps, each movement heavy on his person. Luna trails behind him, and the items in her bags jostle together as a cheery chime.

Without help, she hoists the bags onto the counter and takes everything out: golden syrup, ginger, and other baking ingredients. She rests a pie tin to one side and a few mixing bowls and some utensils to the other. Carefully, she pulls out a handwritten recipe and reads it once before putting it on the counter too.

Harry licks his lips, desperately wishing he had a glass of water. “Luna, not that I’m not happy to see you—”

“But you’re not happy to see me, Harry,” she interrupts. “You haven’t been happy to see anyone.”

“Okay, fair enough, but—”

“I am happy to see you though,” she interrupts again, her smile honest and sweet. Her smile cuts like crystalized honey. It has sat too long in the opened container in the pantry, forgotten.

Harry swallows his growing irritation; burning anger kept tight under a lid. “Right, well—thank you, but what are you doing?”

Luna blinks and gestures to her ingredients. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re making a treacle tart. Mother said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“I’m sorry—what?” Harry sputters. “You want—my heart?!”

“No, Harry,” she sighs. “We’re making this so you can get through to your own heart. You like treacle tart and I brought Mum’s recipe.”

“Luna, I don’t—I don’t need to get through to my heart. I’m fine. Perfectly and utterly fine.”

Luna only hums and begins reciting the instructions. “Okay, first we must make the short crust pastry. Hermione said it’s easier the Muggle way, so I am willing to try, but I don’t know the Muggle way. Anyway, Step 1) gather the flour, butter, and very cold water. Step 2) place 272 grams of flour in the mixing bowl—272 grams? That’s such an odd number. Okay, place 272 grams of flour with 2 sticks of butter, cubed, and—”

Luna pauses when Harry does not move and points to the counter. “Harry, what are you doing? I can’t make the tart by myself.”

Tension in his chest crawls up his throat. “Yes, you can. I didn’t even ask you to come over here today. I said I was fine and you’re—I don’t need a bloody tart, Luna! I just want to be left alone.”

Luna puts down the recipe. “Harry,” she whispers. She says his name as if he’s precious. “I don’t want you to be alone the same way—the same way you didn’t want me to be alone.” She reaches across the counter and touches the back of his hand. “I just want to help you find your shoes, Harry. Can I—will you let me help you find your shoes?”

Her chilled fingertips carry the weight of friendship in their gentle touch. Twigs crunch under their feet. They laugh as teenagers laugh. They love as teenagers love. Magic weaves into all their moments of silence, never forcing either to speak.

Luna’s pale blue eyes find him with kindness, her heart an anchor when he feels so far away. Harry wonders if he is a ghost now, but Luna’s hand wraps around his and she tugs him away from gunpowder explosions, pulling him out of darkness to stand by her side. She is the lifeline in the Black Lake, skipping like a stone across the water to the other side. She takes him with her and for once, Harry does not feel like he’s drowning.

Smiling doesn't feel right, but he clings to her hand. “Okay, Luna. We can make a treacle tart.”

She beams at him and begins reading the instructions again.

Harry was always a decent student, but in the stillness with Luna, Harry listens. He makes the crust as she instructs and makes the filling too. Together they watch the golden syrup simmer over the hob with juicy lemon and mix it with breadcrumbs. They beat the egg and cream together with a fork, but never has Harry felt more sure about a moment. Luna has never asked him to face his own crossroads.

His chilly flat warms with the oven and the loneliness thaws with Luna’s laughter. She charms his blanket into a real cape, and it fastens around his neck with a simple button. She says it suits him.

The timer buzzes and Luna dons lion oven mitts. Heat pours out of the oven as she opens it and delicious buttery caramel wafts under their noses. Harry’s mouth waters as he watches steam rise from tart, tasting the sweet syrup in the air.

“Very good, Harry Potter,” Luna praises. She rests the tart on the table and performs a cooling spell. “The golden-brown color reminds me of the hares we see in the garden during spring.”

“...is that a good thing? That sounds like a good thing. ”

She peers at him with a small smile. “Of course. They never played tricks on us when we fed them fresh berries from our bushels.”

Luna fishes out a bowl of clotted cream she kept tight under a statis charm. The pie cools to perfect temperature with the aid of her magic, and she spells some plates to set themselves at the table. They whiz around the room until they lay calmly like little birds. Together, they sit at his small kitchen table for two. Luna pours them both a glass of milk and serves them each a slice of tart. She tops their slices with a delicious helping of sweet, clotted cream.

Harry holds his fork with trepidation, the humble slice gooey at the edges of its filling. The toasted breadcrumbs feel crunchy under his fork, but he is too nervous to slice it.

Luna’s foot touches his under the table. “Go on, Harry,” she says. “Try it. You deserve it.”

Harry meets her eyes only for a moment, but then he nods, bracing himself as the metal of his fork hits the ceramic plate. The sound snaps like a crumbled bell, but still rings with finality. With nerves on fire, he takes his first bite with dolloped cream.

Buttery warmth melts in his mouth, the hint of slight spice and sweetness oozing in all his bones. He sinks in his chair as he relishes the delicate pastry crust, the flakey layers dissolving on his tongue. The cream cuts the sweetness, so it is not overbearing, but remains pleasant like a tender kiss.

Luna props her chin in her hand and grins at him. “How does it feel to fall in love with something you made?”

Harry blinks at her words, startled by their genuine curiosity, and he remembers the dough as it stuck to his skin. His hands still smell like lemon and when he bends his index finger, a cut stings from the juice. The pie in front of him unassumingly sits in in the middle of the table, enveloping him in kind warmth and wonderful memories.

His mouth wobbles as he takes a second bite, and Harry remembers his Hogwart’s letter. Another, the first time he made friends. He eats more and remembers Hermione’s fierce hugs when she thought no one was looking. A thick part of filling and he can feel the comfort from Ron’s laughter as they stayed up all night. At the very last bite, he remembers dancing with the girl across the table when no music played just because she wanted to dance.

Like the sun dawning, emotion wells at the corners of Harry’s eyes and his chest caves as he hunches over the table. He heaves a choked sob as he curls around his finished plate, the loneliness in his heart thawing in the warmth of a home cooked treat. Blindly, he pats the table, searching for Luna’s hand. Her icy fingers thread between his and squeeze tight as she kisses his knuckles. Her thumb traces over the spot where her lips touched.

She says nothing, but he hears her heart: I am here with you.

Love builds inside him and spreads to tips of his toes, igniting a fire of forgiveness in its wake. In the trail of flames, he saves some love for himself.

Magic washes over him when Luna squeezes his hand once more. With a teary laugh, he sits up and wipes his face. Luna looks at him as if he is handsome as she wears a content smile. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the snow inside his body melting in Luna’s bright friendship.

Harry cups his hands around Luna’s, relishing in the peace that settles over him.

He smiles for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you, Luna.”

#hp fanfic #Harry Potter #luna lovegood #huna #lunarry #friendship #ptsd #learning how to bake #luna is a great friend #i wanted this to be romantic but it didn't turn out that way lol #but i love them anyway #please enjoy #drabble

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sablegear0 · 4 years ago

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Something about Dragons

Had an interesting dream last night which, while being tangentially Dark Souls-related, also presented me with an interesting take on dragon biology.

Please consider: dragons only grow upon exposure to energy, regardless of what kind.

In my dream, I had come into the possession of a dragon hatchling. Now, I don’t remember the full reason or context, but I do remember the guy I brought the hatchling to to inspect it, tossed the little thing into a microwave for about 20 seconds saying “Won’t hurt it if it’s a real dragon.”

This turned out to be true. The hatchling emerged unscathed, if slightly more blackened, and when I looked away for a moment and back to it, I found it had grown! It had started about the size of a chameleon when he first tossed it into the microwave, and grew almost instantly to the size of a small dog after its microwave exposure.

So what do we do with this theory, that dragons grow only when exposed to sources of energy? Well, a lot of things. We can expand that dragons might take on their particular “type” (eg. D&D-style Chromatic/Metallic dragons) depending on what sort of energy they are exposed to. In this example, Red and White dragons grow to adulthood primarily through thermal energy (geothermal, fires, sunlight), Black and Green dragons from energy-producing chemical reactions (such as minerals or just by eating a lot), Blue dragons from electrical discharges (static, lightning), etc. Metallic dragons may result from a combination of energy types, or even from exposure to natural radiation sources deep in the earth’s crust.

But it gets sillier. Consider that dragons may grow when exposed to large amounts of kinetic energy. Physical, kinetic impacts may foster dragon growth, provided they’re not traumatic enough to kill it outright. Perhaps a bit like a Saiyan, a dragon comes back bigger and stronger every time it comes close to being beaten to death. (Now I’m imagining dragon broodmothers tossing their fledglings down mountainsides to give them a kinetic boost when they leave the nest...)

This may also lend some explanation to the folkloric hoarding behaviour of dragons. They may be searching for appropriate conductive materials to essentially build massive batteries they can sleep on, or create a reflective structure to insulate and recoup their natural energies, or perhaps absorb magic energies from enchanted items in the hoard. Dragon caves built deep enough in the earth’s crust would have access to naturally-occurring geothermal energy; at a relatively shallow depth the temperature holds steady at about 18C, and deeper down things gradually get even hotter. This would make hot-springs and fault lines prime dragon real estate, not to mention the potential for abundant rare-earth materials to build these hoard-batteries or collect as chemical/radiation sources. Additionally, this accounts for dragons’ legendary resistance to magic; attempts to harm them with spells that channel energy merely fuel their growth and development!

The events of my dream also potentially introduces a real-life biological concept to this theory. As we could see with only 20 seconds of microwave exposure, my tiny hatchling more than doubled in size. The amount of energy a dragon takes in boosts its growth in proportion to its present size; and so the Square-Cube law applies here as it does with real-world animals. While a bigger dragon may have more surface area, it also has exponentially more volume, so energy doses must be more and more powerful to contribute to its growth. Hence why great dragons that battle wizards don’t immediately jump up in size when struck with fireballs or lightning, and instead must spend hours and hours in their molten-hot lairs to heal and grow, or eat the livestock of entire villages to satisfy their caloric needs.

#sable has a take #sable talks about games #dragons #dragon biology #mythical biology #open for questions #open for discussion

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luminashdawnwing · 4 years ago

Text

Trading Favors (Part III)

Part I

Part II

“Fine specimens, yes, fine specimens indeed.” Ta’nir intoned, deft hands running over the entirety of the ardenmoth wings Luminash had presented to him, letting out excited little sounds of admiration with every trick of the light - dim as it was under the Revendreth sky - dancing along the iridescent, intricately patterned wings. It was as Ta’vik had said: obtaining the moth wings has been scarcely a challenge, although the beauty of Ardenweald had almost tempted Luminash into staying longer than he had intended.

The air was cool and damp, the heaviness of imminent rain lingering in the air, much like the overcast days of early winter the magister recalled from his days studying in Dalaran. The sky today, though, was an eerie blood-red slashed with wispy black clouds, far from the calm of distant Lordaeron.

Luminash cleared his throat, having had far too much time now to admire this foreign sky and the black and gnarled foliage of the forest below. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of the Ghostlands, although it scarcely had the same reek of decay and desolation, and he’d had enough of looking at it.

“I am glad you approve, Ta’nir, but to the matter at hand?”

“Oh! Yes! The dagger and your bauble, yes!” With eminently gentle touch, the Broker folded the delicate wings, one lying atop of the other, and strode to a small metallic crate. After he traced an intricate line with the tip of one finger along a sigil of some sort, a trail of white light in its wake, the crate’s lid slid open. Not removing anything from the box, but rather carrying the box itself, a display case for what was within, the Broker turned back to Luminash.

Inside the box was a smooth-cornered cube, its surface a pale gray, like the stones of Oribos, and bearing the Eternal City’s crest on one side. The others were marked by a carved honeycomb pattern, familiar to Luminash from the soul tethering monoliths throughout the Shadowlands. If the Broker could smile, Ta’nir surely would have been beaming with pride.

After peering into the box, curiosity painted on his face, Luminash lifted his eyes to the Broker, “Was this smuggled from Oribos? I understand why your associate directed me so far afield, in that case.”

A laugh, and a shake of the head from the Broker, flame-like anima swishing behind the brazen mask, “It was recovered elsewhere, which makes it all the more interesting. You seek the peel back the shroud cast over the First Ones, yes? Their hands did not only touch Oribos, or the four realms to which you mortals have been granted passage. No, this was not from Oribos, but that is all I will say.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the magister nodded, his lips pulled back in a slight smirk, “The secrets you Brokers keep grow tiresome, but there is little I can do, is there? Can you at least, Ta’nir, since I have provided half of my payment to you already, tell me what this little box is?”

“Once you get the dagger I require, it will be your key. You may have heard of the waystone that has allowed some mortals passage in and out of the Maw, no?” Ta’nir narrated with a flourish, motioning between the contents of the small crate and the ground below, as if the black soil were the roiling darkness of the Maw, “Not all need be so large and flashy to do their job. There are paths through the Shadowlands, dancing along anima strands, points where the soul may be bound and quickly recalled.” He snapped the box shut, remarkably making not a sound, simultaneously sudden and startling, but still having the gentle touch of the appraiser, “A key is useless without knowing to where a door opens though, isn’t it? I will provide the key, and Ba’net the doors.”

“Fair enough, then. I expected as much.” Luminash gazed into the gnarled black forest the Night Market skirted as Ta’nir placed his treasured keystone back among his other treasures, “Let us get to business then, shall we? About this dagger you require…”

**************************

The Chalice district estates reminded Luminash much of the more noble quarters of Silvermoon, when they still stood. An estate nestled deep in the forest was all well and good for land, but it had always been more effective to mingle - and plot - with others when visiting one’s manor in the city. He had always hated being disturbed on such visits, even while he found pleasure in the joy of intrigue.

The magister flexed his hands, watching as they tendons worked under the pallor of Venthyr skin. Stepping from the passage between homes, towering above the cobblestone streets, the blood-red glow of their windows illuminating the way below in an eerie light, he began to make his way towards the foot of Castle Nathria itself, the border of the Chalice and Redelav districts black and red velvet coat flowing behind him with each step. Truly, his tailor must have been the envy not only of the Chalice nobles, but even the Redelav houses! Dangling from his neck, visible to any passers-by, was a sinvyr sigil of an eye, its iris a brilliant red.

Every footfall led Luminash closer to the estate of House Bloodwatch. The quicker this was done, the quicker he could let his illusion fall - these had never been his strongest skill, but occasionally did have their uses. None of the other Venthyr in the district’s streets paid him any mind. House Bloodwatch had been in decline for so long that when one of the aristocrats did deign to notice him, it was with a look of contempt and pity alone.

Ta’nir had filled the magister in on the house, but seeing how truly beneath the others it appeared to be was almost a shock. A remarkably long string of failures to free souls in their care from the burden of their crimes left them unable to sire new members of the house, their numbers dwindling. Coupled with that, because they had not been able to unburden those souls, their anima stores dwindled with their numbers. Only a few true nobles of the house remained, and but a handful of retainers. Their prize, the dagger Ta’nir required, should be easy pickings.

Passing by the dilapidated stables, a lone Venthyr attendant accompanied by a handful of dredgers - Luminash could smell the lingering scent of the muck pits even at a distance, earthy and damp, like clay - the only presence, and they too ignored what appeared to be one of the last members of House Bloodwatch entering the manor’s front door, a brief flash of magic from the magister’s fingertips enough to break the lock. Even the stone fiend messenger hunching on the mailbox at the bottom of the pockmarked and rain-eroded steps paid this no mind, its stone-carved eyes glazed over, whatever anima it once had now lost.

The first thing - aside from a tableau of decadence in disrepair - that Luminash noticed was the dead silence. He had expected some sort of security, even just an attendant or a dredger servant, but there was no one. And so, the magister doffed his cloak of subtlety and began to search, chests, drawers, cabinets thrown open, tables and desks scoured, even the rug thrown aside. The main floor held nothing of note, only tarnished sinvyr and other relics of better days long gone by. Finally, he set his sights on the mirror, its glassy surface smooth and shining with an inner crimson glow. He ran his hands along the frame, fine wood, nearly black as tar, whatever polish it had once possessed dulled with age. Surely the dagger must be somewhere beyond.

About to step through, Luminash hesitated. There had been a scuffling outside, he was sure of it, and just in time for the door to burst open, admitting three Venthyr - one man, two women - the magister bent the light around himself and cloaked himself from view, shuffling into a distant corner where, though unseen, he might not also be felt.

“It looks like others have beaten us to it, Grigori,” the taller of the two women mused aloud, stepping deliberately into the room, hand on the pommel of a short sword hanging from her belt, “No stone left unturned.”

The man cursed under his breath and slammed a fist on a table that Luminash had swept clean of its contents moments before during his own search, “Ransacked, more like! Unprofessional, sloppy! Even the Master’s lapdogs should have more class than this.” Scoffing, he turned his attention to the mirror.

“My thoughts exactly,” the second woman added, following her companion’s gaze and stepping up to the mirror, mere feet from where Luminash stood, his magic cloaking him from view, “Nelyne, shall we?”

Nelyne, the first woman to have spoken, and the evident leader of the trio, nodded, pulling her sword - a bloody red piece with spines jutting from its blade - from the loop on her belt, “Go, Natali, I will follow. Grigorii, do see if anything is left down here that we may use.” With her command given - polite as it was, her voice left little room for interpretation, it was a command - she followed Natali through the mirror, its surface rippling, a glassy pond disturbed by a stone.

Luminash found himself holding his breath as Grigori examined the mess he had left behind in his haste, waiting for the inevitable moment when the Venthyr would notice the faint bending of the room’s candlelight in the corner near the mirror and expose him.

“Nothing, nothing at all. House Bloodwatch is truly in more decay than I thought…” Grigori muttered to himself, opening and closing drawers and cabinets, emptied of their contents some time ago based on the dust, clearly only remaining as an outward show of wealth for whoever might visit the manor.

At that moment, in the throes of Grigori’s annoyance, the magister made eye contact. The Venthyr narrowed his eyes, fixed directly on Luminash’s position, a lip curled ever so slightly in suspicion. Without thinking, the magister broke from his hiding place, a wave of arcane power bursting from an outstretched hand, enough to knock the Venthyr back and slam him against the wall. He slumped, a slight groan escaping his lips as Luminash, cloaked again in warped light, leapt through the mirror.

**************************

Sword clashed against dagger, the sound of metal on metal ringing in the stone-walled hall. At one end had been the goal, the only place left unsearched in this depressingly sparse excuse for a manor, the study of Lord Ivan Bloodwatch. How far the great could fall! Nelyne had hardly expected him to be home, today of all days, when most of the nobles with any aspirations dancing in their fool heads were at the Countess’ court for a long-awaited fete. She had also hardly expected him to be so skilled in knife fighting.

“You upstarts will not take it from me! You cannot!” Ivan shouted, a snarl exposing his jagged teeth as he pivoted away and thrust again with his dagger. Its blade swirled with anima, a torrent that wreathed the rest of his body, much to Nelyne’s annoyance. She had already landed a few blows, which should have been enough to end the fight had Lord Bloodwatch not had its protection.

Worse still was the source of the anima. Natali lay still on the floor near the site of the clash, a deep wound in her stomach, the thrust of the wicked dagger enough to slay her and draw all of her anima into the hand that did the deed. Sinfall knew Bloodwatch was trying to claw itself out of the muck of its decadence, but did not yet know how. Until now, when they lost one of their own.

“You are the only upstart I see, Ivan! What do you think you will gain with this tool of yours? With that in your hand, any of us could be your victim! Who, even in Nathria, would trust that?” Another swipe of the blade, dancing away from Ivan’s anima-wreathed dagger, another strike at him sliding off Natali’s essence and not striking home.

“By my hand, Bloodwatch will rise up! When I have taken the anima of the traitors and deliver it to the Master, oh, he will exalt us!” He lunged at that, ducking under Nelyne’s sword and knocking her off balance, followed by a burning in her side. Falling back to rest against the wall, she clutched the wound left behind by Ivan’s dagger, clenching her teeth as she saw the flow of anima threading from between her fingers and into the weapon.

Ivan laughed, a vicious madness in his eyes as he prepared to thrust the dagger again, its blade and his very body growing more engorged with anima. Nelyne closed her eyes and spat at Lord Bloodwatch’s feet, a curse with what she thought would be her last breath. The expected attack never came.

**************************

Lord Bloodwatch, dagger in hand, strained against the bonds Luminash had woven around him, screaming in his fury, “The Master take you! You cannot do this!”

“No, no, I have heard more than enough from you.” With a twitch of his hand, Luminash further constricted the space around the Venthyr, his mouth clamping shut. He could only pierce the magister with his eyes, their yellow glow seeking to stab into his heart, as the elf approached and casually plucked the dagger from Ivan’s hands and swept it across the trapped Venthyr’s throat.

Falling to the floor beside Natali, freed from his prison, he gurgled his last, anima flowing out in a sudden torrent and drawn into the dagger, now in Luminash’s hands - his own now, the illusion of the Bloodwatch retainer dispelled.

“You are…” Nelyne sputtered, “You are the ransacker, aren’t you? A mortal.” She offered a dry laugh laced with pain as her anima still trickled out, “Timely intervention, but curious that you are here at all.”

Luminash only nodded, half-listening to the dying Venthyr. His mind was elsewhere, probing the secrets of the dagger in his hand, a vessel surging now with the power of death. He could feel the anima straining within to be free - it could not just be from the two slain Venthyr - and also the path by which it had come. The enchantment was not simple, but not terribly complex, either, and with a few manipulations…

Nelyne gasped loudly as she felt a sudden jolt, like lightning, surge through her, radiating from her wound, the flow of anima reversed, intensified, as the dagger was drained, most of the power overflowing, a cloud of deep crimson bursting forth from what now was just an ornate knife. Once the anima haze had lifted, Luminash slipped the weapon through a loop on his belt and, kneeling to pick up Nelyne’s sword, offered it back to the Venthyr.

Still struggling to stand, Nelyne took her sword with a nod of thanks and pushed herself up and off the wall, finally releasing the site of her wound, now repaired with the surge of anima she had received, “You came here for his dagger, did you?”

Luminash nodded, “Part of a deal I made. I am afraid I cannot part with it.”

Nelyne slipped past Luminash and approached the door to the late Lord Bloodwatch’s study, “If it still possessed its stolen power, I would not let you keep it. In return for my life, though, I am inclined to offer...leniency.” She deftly picked the lock, before Luminash even noticed the lockpick in her hand, “We were here for his life, and intelligence, nothing more.”

“And who are you, exactly?” Luminash followed Nelyne into the study.

“You may call me Nelyne. My companion is - was - Natali. We serve Prince Renathal.” Much more orderly than Luminash had in the main hall downstairs, the Venthyr began to take the study apart, piece by piece, one drawer and cabinet at a time.

“The rebel prince? I have heard of his efforts. Admirable, in the face of such odds.” Luminash chuckled, “I can respect that.”

“Good. Now kindly stay out of the way, mortal. The faster I find what I am looking for, the sooner we can be gone from here.”

The room itself was small and dingy, much like the rest of the house, though at least its cabinets were full of papers, from correspondence between nobles to receipts for business dealings. On what must have been Lord Bloodwatch’s writing desk was one such receipt, which caught Luminash’s eye: a deal with the Broker Ta’nir for an anima siphon blueprint pilfered from Bastion. Surely asking for the dagger was not a coincidence - damage control on Cartel Ta’s part, perhaps? Whatever it was, it mattered little now with the dagger’s power drained.

Rolling up a small stack of papers and shoving them into a pocket within her coat, Nelyne pivoted on her heels and strode purposefully to an unassuming chest tucked between two sparsely-populated bookcases. Throwing it open, her eyes widened, “Well, cast me into the Maw! It is true…”

“What is?” Luminash asked, joining the Venthyr in examining the contents of the chest. As far as he could tell, it was but a box full of broken chunks of stone, most as large as a book, but some far smaller.

“Sinstones, mortal. Blackmail. Our old names, those we left behind, have power, and our dear ambitious Ivan amassed a great many once belonging to the true Venthyr the Prince has gathered to Sinfall. Come, we must deliver this news immediately.”

As Nelyne rose and rushed from the room, Luminash lagged behind, his gaze drifting over the sinstone fragments. Sure enough, etched in the surface were names - many times only pieces of names - and lists of deeds ranging from purely prideful and selfish to the outright monstrous.

“Mortal!” Nelyne shouted as the magister snapped back to reality, “We must be gone!” A male voice, indistinct, piqued Luminash’s ear. Had Grigori come to?

He turned to face the doorway to the study, “Could we not just part ways now? I have business to which I must attend - the deal, you’ll recall.”

A laugh came then as Nelyne strode back into the room, Grigori at her heel, glaring fiercely, “Oh no. You have seen just a bit too much to be left uninvolved. Surely you can see the threat hanging over our heads if other houses, even minor ones like Bloodwatch, are allowed to muster their resources for the Master.”

“Given what Lord Bloodwatch was saying about this dagger, and if what you say is true about the sinstone trove here…” Luminash sighed, “Ta’nir can wait then, very well.”

“Then come,” Nelyne smiled broadly while Grigori only glared, squinting through the pain of what no doubt was a very sore neck, “Join us at Sinfall.”

#story #shadowlands #trading favors

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