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atlasofthestaars · 1 year ago

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[MX X READER] New Era - Chapter .003

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NOTE: First off, thank you ALL so much for the support! I sincerely love every one of your comments so far, and feel grateful you all enjoy the story! The comments are lowkey pushing me to write this all, so again tysm for the support!

Hopefully this chapter showcases how I’ll try to implement extra scenes within the story! Because after this chapter we will divulge for a bit storywise to get bonding moments between the kharacters and the reader! I’m doing this due to the months time skip, and thought it’d be a good time to develop some of the relationships before the Outworld arc!

Sorry for how Lin Kuei heavy the interactions have been, but we’ll soon get the champion squad as the focus soon, so I did want to implement some of this groundwork first. That doesn’t mean the Lin Kuei are totally gone soon, especially since I also need to give Smoke his share of time together, but they will be used less often after this chapter so we can bond with the others.

ALSO, for those reading this on tumblr, please reply to the poll here whether you do want Shang Tsung as a love interest! It will affect my planning somewhat so I would like to gauge interest! AO3 fans, leave a comment on your thoughts !

ALSO ALSO! If you want a character included as a love interest that is NOT part of the initial roster mentioned in part one, please send in messages/leave comments mentioning it so I can see what you all want! It’s not a guarantee, but it is helpful to get input on those types of things.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HELPED RECRUIT NEW ALLIES

“Only you and Kuai Liang for this mission?”

You eyed the blue clad and yellow clad assassins curiously as you walked into the room where the Lin Kuei trio typically sat when they were awaiting for Liu Kang. You pursed your lips as you walked right up in front of the two brothers, your gaze switching between them before they settled on Bi-Han. You crossed your arms as you watch Bi-Han’s gaze narrow.

“That should be more than enough.” Sub Zero replied gruffly, keeping his gaze on yours. It felt like a staring contest was always happening between you two. While most times you would entertain it, you instead searched his face. It was hard to tell whether Bi-Han was irritated, or if it was his grumpy face that he always wore, but from the years you knew him, you picked up on the tells.

This time, it was simply his natural face.

“I’m not saying it’s not enough, I’m just surprised.” You replied smoothly as you moved your gaze from Bi-Han’s face to the arm you had patched up yesterday. You sighed as you pulled out the medical kit you had tucked away on your person. “I would have thought that the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei would know how to regularly change his bandages.” You chided as you knelt beside where he was sitting.

“I know how to change my bandages, fool.” Sub Zero scoffed, but as usual let you come close to inspect the wound you had dressed. You let the insult go, you knew at this point any insults towards you were rarely meaningful. If he really hated you, he would have not even let you dress his wounds in the first place.

It was odd, before he used to be diligent about changing his own bandages. But nowadays it felt like he expected you to change it for him.

Maybe it was because you started to patch him up for him instead of letting the cryomancer do it himself. It had bugged you, how often he left wounds unattended. Never had they turned into infections, but it irritated you to no end. So one day, you just began to do it for him, despite his initial protests.

Now it was like a routine between you two. It didn’t happen often, since Bi-Han had become more proficient in avoiding injuries, but it happened enough that it felt like a routine.

You gently removed the bloodied bandages from around his right bicep. You hummed as you noted how it was healing. Carefully, you brushed your fingers over the wound to see it had begun to scab over. You noted the odd way he seemed to tense at this, and sent him a small glance.

“Relax, I’m not going to stab you.” You teased, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you returned your gaze back to the wound. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt Bi-Han’s gaze burn into you. Maybe being the pyromancer would have fit him better with how searing his gaze was like.

“As if you would get the chance.” He grumbled as he relaxed. You rolled your eyes as you carefully reapplied the bandages over the wound. Proud of yourself, you grinned as you pat the bandages on his bicep.

“Done.” You declared as you stood back up. You saw Bi-Han sigh as he reluctantly nodded in acknowledgement. You turned your gaze towards the younger brother, sending Kuai Liang a soft smile.

Strange, why did Bi-Han seem a bit irritated at your smile?

“Do you need any wounds of yours patched up while I’m at it?” You inquired as you walked over to stand in front of Scorpion. Returning your soft smile with one of his own, Kuai Liang shook his head, holding up a dismissive hand. His eyes sent an almost apologetic look towards you, as if apologizing for his brother.

“While appreciative, it is not necessary. I was not cut during the examination.” Kuai Liang reassured you with a small nod. You returned the nod, glad to hear the news. Still, your eyes roamed his body to see if he had any bruises that were beginning to bloom.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Your smile grew to a grin as you recalled the events of last night. The exam still buzzed in your head, and you could easily replay it in your head over and over. “Good performance, by the way. I didn’t get to tell you that yesterday.”

“I was simply doing the job as required.” Kuai Liang humbly said, though you could see a hint of what you interpreted as bashfulness within his expression. You laughed. The Lin Kuei trio, so different, yet all people you held close to your heart. They were the ones you considered to be your friends, and you only hoped they returned the sentiment.

“Come, Lord Liu Kang is ready for the both of you.” You beckoned them to follow, and almost in sync they stood up and followed your lead. It was quiet for a few moments as the three of you walked through the Fire Temple. You felt like a leader of a pack, with Kuai Liang on your left and Bi-Han on your right. You briefly wondered if this is how Liu Kang often felt. “Were you both informed of what our mission is, and where we are going?”

“From what I recall, we are going to California to recruit an actor and a swordsman to see if they will join Lord Liu Kang’s cause.” Scorpion piped up, and you nodded, pleased at how accurate his memory was.

“It is unnecessary for all three of us to have to go.” Bi-Han commented. Despite his words seeming rough, you could sense he was only speaking his mind and not trying to insult Liu Kang…even if he could definitely word it better.

“It is probably for the best for all of us to go, just in case.” The younger brother interjected, sending his older brother a glance. “Lord Liu Kang has his own reasons.”

The conversation ground to a halt, and you felt the temperature drop around you three by a few degrees.

You ignored it as you three arrived at the door of the room where Liu Kang was waiting. Best not to linger on that.

You all had a mission to get to, after all.

So this was California.

You marveled at how different the city around you was. The buildings were so different. Everything was different. You took in the atmosphere as you basked in the small amount of time you all had to stand around before you had to go.

Even though the area you teleported too was on the quieter side, the area around you was so much busier than it was anywhere you’ve recently been. So many lights, noises…it was so foreign. You were so in awe you even let Bi-Han scoff at your amazement without glaring at him.

“Is it possible for you to confirm the location?” Liu Kang inquired, after calling your name. You blinked as you stepped forward to look towards the fire god. You nodded, pointing to a large fancy home up ahead.

“That one, correct, Lord Liu Kang?” You asked, eying the place. You watched as the fire god nodded approvingly. Jumping and leaping into the air, your form turned smoothly into that one a crow and you flew close to the house.

You always enjoyed being a bird, feeling the wind in your feathers and the feeling of freedom it granted. Circling the house, you spotted how a wall was completely open, and you soared down towards that area, landing just behind the wall beside the pool. You noted the large floating plastic animals in the pool.

Interesting.

“Step one is selling this place.” A woman spoke. Curious, you tilted your head to peek barely in, seeing who you presumed to be Johnny Cage and a woman. Your head pulsed with the all too familiar headache as you peered at the man who paced inside the house.

Your mind granted you a vision of a similar looking Johnny Cage, so you knew you were in the right place.

Who was the woman though? You peered at her, vaguely listening in on the argument between the duo. You didn’t even bother to hide yourself all too well behind the wall at this rate, they were too deep in their conflict.

When you gazed at her, no sense of headache arose in your mind. You continued to eavesdrop, learning about the unfortunate circumstances befalling Johnny Cage and who you presumed was his wife with the conversation they were having. You nodded as the words they said confirmed your suspicions.

Cris…Wasn’t his wife supposed to be Sonya Blade?

Your head seemed to pound upon remembering that, and you winced. Sonya Blade…Sonya Blade… If only you had more time to interpret and unravel these memories when convenient, and not when you were on a mission!

Taking a mental note, you told yourself to write this down in your journal within the Fire Temple as soon as you got back.

Either way, you figured out that in this life, Johnny Cage was with a different woman.

You watched with a sense of pity as Cris walked out on Johnny…or John Carlton as you just learned. Although the man seemed distraught, you were surprised to see that he didn’t chase over his wife. You observed as he continued to drink, berating himself.

You felt guilty intruding on such a private moment.

Your guilt vanished as you watched a swordsman enter the house, dressed in a suit. Carefully, you backed up behind the wall, but you were sure he probably wouldn’t have even seen you. Even without the pulsing of your mind, you knew who this man was due to Liu Kang: Kenshi Takahashi. You watched the beginnings of their confrontation before backing up.

That’s all you needed to know.

With a quick flap of your wings, you got back into the air and flew back to the trio who were waiting right where you had left them. Landing on the ground, you stood up as you transformed back and no trace of the crow you had been was left.

“It’s the right location.” You began as you rolled your shoulders back, trying to bend your body back into shape. “Johnny Cage is confronting Kenshi Takahashi over a sword named Sento.” You informed Liu Kang, bowing as you told the fire god of what you had seen.

“As expected.” Liu Kang said before nodding, a smile on his face. You took that as praise as you stepped around to take your spot again at his right side. “Come, the confrontation will be over soon.” With a nod from the others, you all strode down the hill over to Johnny Cage’s house.

Without hesitation, Liu Kang rang the doorbell as the four of you arrived in front of the front door. You looked around, noting how the house looked from the front instead of the back. It was much, much different than what you had been used to in the Fire Temple.

Instinctively, you straightened your posture as you heard the door open. You stared forward at the perplexed face of Johnny Cage, holding back the amusement you wanted to let out. You had to look professional. Both of the Lin Kuei brothers stood behind you and Liu Kang.

“What in the actual fu-”

“Good evening, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang cut him off, his arms uncrossing as he bowed and introduced himself. Johnny recoiled at the action, looking confused as ever. “I am Liu Kang, protector of Earthrealm.” The fire god introduced himself, wasting no time. He gestured to the inside of the house. “May we enter?”

“Uh…” Johnny leaned over, peering at all of you suspiciously. “Nothing’s being shot here tonight. You sure you’re in the right place?” Johnny inquired, looking at all of you as if you were all crazy.

“Yes.” Liu Kang answered seriously, nodding. “We come here on a matter of grave importance. We must speak to you and your guest.”

“What?” Johnny seemed shocked at the mention of Kenshi, before squinting at the group in suspicion once more. He leaned close, dropping his voice to be closer to a whisper. “How do you know about him?”

“Because I am the God of Fire.” Liu Kang responded, his voice holding an authoritative tone. Despite this, Johnny seemed to brush it off. You raised your eyebrows, surprised to see how quickly the man fell into denial.

“Cris, you vixen. Nicely done.” You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest. He thought his wife set him up for an odd prank. You looked away until he spoke up again. “Sure.” Johnny said, drawing out the word in such a way to make it obvious he didn’t believe a word of what Liu Kang had said. “Come on in.” And with that, he opened the door to welcome you all in. “Glowing eyes are a nice touch.”

You all entered the house, and you noted how it looked from this angle. Your eyes fell on the swordsman who was now tied to a chair next to the pool, and you were slightly surprised to see he had lost. You followed Liu Kang swiftly as you approached the tied up man.

“Kenshi Takahashi.” Liu Kang addressed the man. He stopped in front of Kenshi and crossed his arms in a disapproving way. “A tragic figure with a noble cause. Your actions this evening do you no credit.” Liu Kang even threw in a disapproving shake of his head.

“Who are these people?” Kenshi inquired, just as perplexed. You focused your eyes on the swordsman as the tiny voice in your head questioned how the man in front of you had his eyesight. It seemed that way, at least.

Past life. Right.

“You tell me, they’re your scene partners.” Johnny Cage answered back with a shrug, looking towards Liu Kang for an explanation.

“I also know of your struggles, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang spoke, turning his gaze to Johnny Cage. You nodded subconsciously, having witnessed the struggles Johnny had through the argument he had with Cris. “I am here to offer you both a path forward.”

“Dun. Dun. Dunnnn.” Johnny retorted dramatically, his carefree attitude shining through. He still didn’t believe the situation, and for a brief moment you recalled how this felt all too familiar. The actor let out a laugh, looking around. “C’mon guys. Let’s call this. Cris was a doll to set this up, but…” He shrugged as he scoffed. “As pranks go this one’s…eh…a bit obvious.”

“This is no prank.” Liu Kang warned Johnny. He looked at you and spoke your name before gesturing towards Kenshi. “If you please.” You nodded as you strode over to Kenshi’s chair and knelt behind him. You observed the rope. Normally, you would transform your hand into claws to free the man, but you did not want to risk hurting Kenshi, especially with how thick this rope was, it was better to untie it.

You set to work untying it. You struggled, noting how strong and tight the knots were. Did Johnny Cage have experience in typing people up? You grimaced as you continued to try and untie the rope. You were so concentrated on the task in front of you, Johnny’s words didn’t register in your head.

It wasn’t until he laid a hand on you until you noticed he had been talking to you.

Eyes wide open, you paused as you looked up in shock, your mind reeling as you tried to piece together whatever Johnny had been saying. His grip was strong, but it didn’t hurt. You were just confused at what he had been saying.

You had no time to do so as you watched Bi-Han shoulder tackle Johnny off of you before sending him flying with a heavy kick.

“Bi-Han!?” You exclaimed, surprised at the sudden action from the cryomancer. You were stunned as you watched Johnny groan as he had a glass fixture drop on him. The grandmaster did not turn around to look at you, but you watched as Kuai Liang stride up, sending you a concerned look before looking towards his brother.

You were surprised that Kuai Liang did not tell him off. For a moment, the two brothers sent each other an unreadable look as they got into a fighting stance against the now angry Johnny Cage. You paused in your actions to watch the fight happen, confused at how it escalated so much.

It had been an honest mistake on Johnny Cage’s part.

Somehow, the actor knocked down the brothers.

“I hope you’re insured, because you’re paying for my Hichuli.” Johnny huffed as he stared at the Lin Kuei duo who got up from the ground. You stood up, trying to speak up, but were cut off by Bi-Han’s outrage.

“Imbecile! You have no idea with whom you are dealing!” Bi-Han pointed towards Johnny Cage, seeming ready to go again and fight. You shook your head as you strode over to make Sub Zero calm down.

“Bi-Han-”

“ENOUGH!”

You jolted as you side stepped to avoid the burst of flames that emerged from Liu Kang. Loud beeping occurred for a second, and you winced at the noise. You sighed as you continued your walk over to Bi-Han, standing right next to him.

“Uh…” Johnny said, his eyes wide in disbelief as he had shielded away from the flame. “That’s no special effect.” He continued, and the look on his face told you that he was finally piecing things together.

“Indeed, Johnny Cage.” You could not see Liu Kang’s face right now, but the tone he held said enough about the frustrated look he was sending the actor. The god of fire inhaled and turned to you three. You held the god’s gaze as he examined you before looking towards Scorpion. “Kuai Liang?” He inquired, gesturing towards Kenshi.

You watched as the younger brother walked away to finish the job of freeing Kenshi. As Liu Kang spoke to Johnny and Kenshi, you sent a perplexed and slightly angry glare at Bi-Han. Why had he been so aggressive?

Yet, despite your glare, you didn’t think you were actually angry. Just mostly…confused.

Bi-Han, despite his knack for wanting staring contests with you, seemed very keen on ignoring your glare this time. You sighed as you looked away and focused on the conversation with Liu Kang.

“All will be explained, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang told Johnny Cage as Kenshi was untied and he got to stand up. “For now, what is important is that you both have been chosen to join its champions.” He said, now referring to both Johnny and Kenshi.

“Why him?” Johnny pointed at Kenshi in confusion. “Or me, for that matter?” He asked, turning to look at Liu Kang with a perplexed look.

“Because I have faith that you will rise to the challenge.” Liu Kang explains to the actor. “And because your service will change the arcs of your lives.” Liu Kang looked at the three of you and dismissed you all, allowing you to wait outside while he discussed the finer details with the two. Almost immediately, Bi-Han walked off, leaving you in the dust.

“I would advise to not take offense to his attitude.” Kuai Liang said as he stepped up to stand beside you. You sighed as you crossed your arms, looking towards the entrance. You shook your head as you looked towards the younger brother.

“I’m not offended.” You clarified as you searched Kuai Liang’s expression. “Just…confused why he would do that.” You also had confusion on why Kuai Liang would also help him take down the actor, but you would chalk that up to the brotherly bond the two had…even if it felt like it was waning nowadays.

Memories of two brothers, one corrupted and inky like a shadow, and the other an icy grandmaster flashed in your mind.

You closed your eyes as you tried to push out those memories. It’s been years since you’ve first had them about the Lin Kuei since you’ve met them so long ago, but when you worried over the two, you were always reminded,

Damn these memories.

“I see.” Scorpion said, and although his words seemed final you could sense the hesitant tone in his voice. It was strange, but you assumed it was due to Scorpion’s manners. He was never one to make unnecessary comments. You turned to look at Liu Kang, to try and focus in on the fire god’s words to get your mind off of things.

Still, you felt the gaze of Kuai Liang burn into you.

Thankfully, the protector of Earthrealm quickly wrapped things up with the new recruits. He turned around, and there was a faint look of surprise to see that both you and Scorpion remained inside the manor. Regardless, he nodded and smiled at the two of you before exiting with the both of you in tow.

Outside, Bi-Han had been waiting, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. His eyes were focused on the ground, and a furrow in his brow. He seemed deep in thought, but his demeanor quickly shifted as he heard the three of you approach. The cyromancer straightened up and came to attention, nodding.

“Excellent work, you three…even if there were some hiccups.” Liu Kang commended as you all followed him to the hill where he had initially teleported you three from. Liu Kang did not look towards Sub Zero, but you all knew who he had been referring to.

The walk back to the hill was silent. That wasn’t unusual, but the uneasy tension between the group certainly was. You held back a sigh as you continued to walk beside Liu Kang, trying to pretend like the source of the tension wasn’t you and Bi-Han.

You disliked this.

“You are all dismissed, thank you for your services.” Liu Kang thanked the three of you as you arrived back in the Fire Temple. Teleporting was always quick, and you were thankful for it. You nodded as you began to walk off. You needed to walk to clear your head.

It wasn’t long after you set off that you heard your name be called. Surprised, you turned around and stood still. You blinked as you watched Kuai Liang jog over to you, nodding as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Would you mind if I accompanied you?” The pyromancer inquired, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. While it was not uncommon that you had been on walks with the assassins before, it was odd to have it occur after a mission.

“Are you not going with Bi-Han back to the clan?” You inquired, crossing your arms as you shifted your weight to one leg. You scanned Kuai Liang’s face, searching for any sort of answer. He shook his head, and you were genuinely surprised.

“I asked brother if I were allowed to stay for a bit. He was fine with it.” Scorpion answered, and you hummed. Odd, but Kuai Liang was anything but a liar. You nodded, shrugging.

“Alright, I don’t see why not.” You said, curious why he had wanted to stay. Was it just to talk to you? That felt a little ridiculous, but you didn’t know what else it could be. A slight expression of relief settled on the assassin’s face as he moved to your side.

“Thank you.” He said, and you waved off the words. You didn’t see why he’d be thanking you for something so simple.

“Don’t mention it.” You said, and then the two of you walked off. You tried to not think about the odd scenario, but it ended up haunting you as you walked. You lasted about five minutes before you let out a sigh and turned to face Kuai Liang, arms crossing. “Okay, I’ll say it. Why are you here exactly? I’m not ungrateful for your presence, it’s just that I can tell that you came here for a reason.”

“You are perceptive as usual.” Scorpion praised, and you both accepted the compliment, but also wanted him to get to the point already. “I just wanted to see if you were feeling alright. I could sense you were upset with brother and…”

“While appreciated, you do not need to make up for your brother’s actions.” You said quickly, wanting to stop Kuai Liang from going on. You sighed, sending him a weary, but grateful smile. “Look, I know you are close with Bi-Han, but I don’t want our conversations to revolve around him. We’ve known each other for years, I consider you a friend, and I want to be able to talk to you, Kuai Liang, not Bi-Han’s brother.”

For the first time in perhaps forever, you saw a look of surprise on Kuai Liang’s face. With a moment of hesitation, he nodded. He put on a small smile, seeming genuinely grateful for your words.

“Alright, then let me, Kuai Liang, accompany you on this walk.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You grinned at him as you both set off on your walk. You walked on, feeling more relaxed and relieved now. Words were exchanged here and there, but with Kuai Liang, you didn’t really need words. The two of you could bask in a comforting silence together.

Still, the memories from earlier still flew around in your mind like an annoying fly. Sensing this, you noticed Kuai Liang’s concerned look.

“I’m fine.” You lied, a worried feeling filling your mind as you looked at the man who often haunted your memories. Your heart squeezed as you looked back ahead. As much as you wanted to confide in anyone, someone about your memories, you couldn’t. Or rather, you didn’t.

No one needs the burden of the memories that plague you. Of the knowledge of other “lives” they had lived, especially since you did not even know whether these visions were even memories themselves. You just assumed it, seeing as they all seemed to follow a life you once lived.

Even though you spent time pondering these visions with Liu Kang, you only did so in the most desperate times now. The fire god had no idea just how many more memories you had unlocked that he was unaware of. That whole dilemma leaves a guilty imprint on your soul.

Still, the honest and welcoming dark eyes of Kuai Liang was tempting. For a moment, you opened your mouth, wanting to confess how worried you were over the trio of brothers. How you knew of a world where they all were torn apart by death and corruption.

Of how he was the only one alive of the three of them by what you could remember.

You couldn’t though. That knowledge wasn’t fair. Plus, there was no way to explain anything well. You’d just seem like a hallucinating amnesiac, and you didn’t need one of your friends thinking of you that way.

“I’m just thinking about how Johnny and Kenshi will fare during training.” You continued to lie. Despite the momentary guilt, your mind did turn to the new topic with open arms. Ah, right, you were going to be in charge of their training. Or at least, somewhat. You still haven’t discussed that whole ordeal with Liu Kang yet.

You really had to get on that.

“I have a feeling the swordsman will be competent.” Kuai Liang mused, his head tilting to the side as he spoke aloud. “The actor, I fear, will be a challenge.” The yellow clad assassin confided in you, and you let out a small chuckle. “I have faith in you that you will be able to instruct them, regardless of the difficulty.”

“How is it that even when you’re insulting someone, you make it sound somewhat eloquent?” You inquired, grinning at the man. Though he did not have a grin that stretched from ear to ear, you could see the subtle smile on his lips. He seemed pleased with himself, and it was a sight you were blessed to see. “Thanks, still, I’m honored to have you think so highly of me.”

“There is no reason to think so, the high regard I have within you is rightfully earned.” Scorpion replied. You looked away, letting out another laugh, though this one was more bashful. Did this man know how he sounded? You couldn’t tell.

“Okay, okay, stop flattering me before I suspect that you want something from me.” You said, managing to find the words to respond to him after the high compliment he gave you, deciding to play off the warm feeling you got from all this as lighthearted. You felt outdone, not knowing how to make him feel the same way he made you feel after his praise.

“I hope you know I am serious about the praise I give you, but I shall relent.” Scorpion said, the serious tone he seemed to always have was prominent in his tone. You swallowed as you nodded. You knew. Kuai Liang was never one to play around, especially with the feelings of those close to him.

You wished he did though, just for this one moment, so you could pretend that the words he told you didn’t affect you as much as they did.

“You are too kind, Kuai Liang.” You murmur as you find yourself back at the Fire Temple. The walk had gone faster than expected. You supposed that’s what good company does. You watched as the Lin Kuei assassin stopped at the entrance, and for a moment you found yourself slightly saddened at this.

“I am only saying the truth.” He replied. For a moment, you saw him tense, as if considering something. Instead, he nodded as he stared at you with an expression you couldn’t quite understand. You opened your mouth, considering asking him what he was thinking, but thought better of it.

You weren’t certain if you could handle the answer.

“Goodnight, Kuai Liang.”

“Goodnight.” You smiled at the quaint way he spoke your name, and waved him off. You watched him walk off before turning around and walking to the area where you would usually watch the sunrise.

The moon hung high in the sky now, basking you in the moonlight. Your eyes closed as you took in everything that happened recently. Your fingers tapped along the wooden railing, tracing along the grain. The cool breeze passed you by. You had a lot to think about.

part four

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skyward-floored · 6 months ago

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This is an earlier version of my fic Murkier Waters, which I’d saved because I thought Legend’s perspective was interesting, even if it didn’t end up working for the end product. It ends at an odd moment and is kinda messy so pleeeeaaaase read the actual fic for much better writing (and an ending lol).

Anyway, voila. Fishy Legend from a different POV.

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“I think we’re lost.”

Legend groaned at Hyrule’s words, watching as the traveler looked around at the trees above them. He stepped into a particularly moist section of dirt while he wasn’t looking, which splashed mud on his boots, and he failed to hold back a sigh.

“I told you we should’ve turned left at that last pond,” Legend grumbled, and Hyrule shrugged with an apologetic smile, a bird cawing loudly in the distance.

Hyrule had sensed a great fairy somewhere in the vicinity, and Legend had tagged along with him, half out of curiosity, and half to make sure his successor didn’t get completely lost. He’d rather failed on that second point though, and they were now miles away from the others in a swamp unfamiliar to them both, getting more lost by the second.

He hated not having a map.

“You don’t think this is the swamp that the Smithy said still had some poison spots in it, do you?” Hyrule asked as he stepped over a puddle, and Legend hummed, looking around.

“How many swamps can there possibly be around here? I haven’t seen anything poisonous-looking though, so maybe Four was wrong,” he replied.

Hyrule nodded, waving a bug away from his face. “Yeah... maybe whatever was left here finally got cleansed or something.”

“Maybe.”

They continued forwards through the muck, swatting away bugs and avoiding one or two birds that swooped past. They had to fight off a couple of keese at one point, but that was the only thing that actively antagonized them, and their walk was fairly uneventful.

Legend wasn’t sure how long they’d been going when the forest opened up, a small lake coming into view through the trees, tall banks on all sides except the one they were standing on. The opposite shore was easily visible, but the water itself shone with an unnatural shimmer, the depths murky and dark.

“Guess we found our poison water,” Hyrule said with a frown, looking across the oily-colored liquid. Legend grabbed a stick and poked it into the water for a minute before pulling it out and inspecting it, but the wood hadn’t corroded at all, and appeared unharmed apart from the slick now coating it.

“Well it doesn’t seem like acid at least,” Legend hummed, giving the water a suspicious look. “I still don’t think we should cross it though.”

Hyrule didn’t appear to have heard him, suddenly perking up as he stared across the shore. His eyes shimmered a little, and Legend raised an eyebrow, leaning over and looking at him.

“Traveler?”

“I think the fairy fountain is over there,” Hyrule replied excitedly, squinting across the lake. “I can feel the magic way more clearly now!”

“Oh. Well that’s great,” Legend drawled. “Except for the fact that there’s a poisonous lake in between it and us, and even if it wasn’t poisonous, you can’t swim.”

Hyrule waved him off, rifling in his bag a moment before pulling out a pair of boots.

“Doesn’t matter, I can walk across water with these, poison or not,” he said with a smile, already slipping off his other pair and putting on the new ones. “It’ll be easy!”

“Well how am I going to get across?” Legend said grumpily, admiring Hyrule’s boots. He could tell they were magic just looking at them, despite their unassuming appearance. Well-made too, magic interwoven as the shoes had been put together, allowing the wearer to walk across water.

...He wanted a pair.

Hyrule looked at him in surprise. “You mean you don’t have any items that’ll help you get across?”

Legend kicked at the mud, mentally going through the list he had of all of his items. Of course he did. He had at least six different ones. Did Hyrule have no faith in him?

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well then come on! Let’s go!” Hyrule said with a smile, and without further ado began walking across the water, faint ripples emanating out from where his feet stepped on the surface.

“I need a pair of boots like that,” Legend grumbled jealously, then pulled out his ice rod to freeze a path he could walk across.

If he was alone, he’d just allow his mermaid transformation to take over and swim across, but he didn’t trust the murky water underneath him one bit. Hyrule didn’t know about his curse yet anyway, and he’d prefer to keep the number of people aware of it as small as possible. Though Hyrule would probably take it in stride, knowing him.

Either way, Legend wanted his feet on something solid, and the ice rod was perfect for that.

He was just glad he’d packed his snowshoe ring.

Hyrule was a small distance ahead of him by the time Legend was ready, and he smirked to himself as he watched the traveler, an idea forming in his head. Legend cracked his knuckles, then suddenly bolted forwards, freezing a path as he ran and quickly catching up to the other boy.

“See you on the other side!” he called behind him, and he heard Hyrule let out an indignant noise, the sound of his boots slapping against the water alerting him to the fact that the traveler was trying to catch up. Legend smirked, and flicked his wrist, slightly curving the ice and making it easier for him to gain speed as he charged across it.

Hyrule was fast though, and soon caught up, then passed him, hair flying in the wind as they raced towards the opposite shore. He didn’t waste his breath on words, merely shooting Legend a cheeky grin as he shot past, and Legend adjusted his cap with a competitive scowl.

He wished he could safely use his Pegasus boots on the ice as he watched Hyrule pull even further ahead, but he’d quickly slip out of control, even with his snowshoe ring.

But Legend was still fast without his boots and managed to put on a burst of speed, quickly pulling up next to the traveler.

Hyrule let out a breathless laugh, and Legend grinned back as they ran, sunlight sparkling off ice and water alike. He and the traveler were neck-and-neck as they raced, and Legend felt his annoyance at the day so far fade with every step he took, keeping pace with Hyrule as they raced across a likely-poisonous lake together.

It’d been too long since he’d goofed off like this.

The shore drew nearer and nearer, Hyrule and Legend both sprinting as fast they could, and Legend was sure that Hyrule was just barely going to beat him —

— Until a scaly green hand shot out of the water, grabbing Hyrule by the ankle and pulling him into the lake.

Legend’s happiness evaporated as Hyrule cried out in surprise, his yell cut off as he was dragged under. Legend jumped forwards and reached out for him mere seconds too late, catching sight of the fear in Hyrule’s eyes before he was lost to his sight in the murk.

“Traveler!” Legend shouted, voice cracking with panic, “Link!”

The water didn’t so much as ripple.

Legend stared for a only a couple more seconds, mind whirling, then he shoved his ice rod into his pack as he bit back a curse.

Hyrule couldn’t swim. Hyrule couldn’t swim and even if he could, some kind of monster had dragged him deep into likely-poisonous water, nullifying the power of his boots and very likely currently trying to eat him.

And Legend could easily save him with the magic in his bones.

Legend hesitated at the thought, looking at the oddly-colored water. He didn’t know what it would do to him if he transformed in its depths, what effects it might have on him if he swam around and breathed it in.

But Hyrule was down there.

Legend looked at the murky water one last time as he drew his sword, then took a deep breath and dove in without further hesitation.

The water slipped around him like a slick of oil, the familiar magic of his tail twisting around his legs as soon as he was submerged. Legend took the few moments while it did its job to look around, squinting as he searched for Hyrule, but saw no sign of him.

Legend’s legs finished painfully merging into a powerful cerulean tail, courtesy of the item he’d picked up all those years ago that had become as much apart of him as his regular magic. He shook out his fins, and finally saw something thrashing nearby. Swimming rapidly towards it, Legend spotted Hyrule struggling with a scaled creature of some kind, his face panicked as he held his breath.

Legend growled and prepared to strike at the monster, but then he took a deep breath.

And it burned.

The water was like fire the moment it filtered through his gills, sending flames searing all throughout his chest.

Legend gasped, but that only made it worse, more of the oily water pulled into his system, the taste of it sickening. He barely felt like he’d taken a breath, and each consecutive one felt worse then the last, stinging needles of ice spreading through his veins as he struggled to breathe.

Ah. Right. Poison water.

Which he was now breathing in, in no small volume.

He coughed, starting to feel sick, but then he heard a hiss and Legend was reminded he wasn’t the only thing in the lake. He managed to swing his sword at the monster despite the ache spreading through his muscles, and it screeched, slipping away with Hyrule still in its grasp.

Legend chased after it, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest and the burning of his lungs, squinting through the murk.

He could barely see anything, surprising since his transformation usually granted him much clearer underwater vision. But despite the gloom and barely-there streams of sunlight filtering through the water, Legend finally caught sight of two glowing eyes, and he couldn’t help but return the hiss the creature sent towards him.

It was hard to fully make out, but he could just barely see green scales and red fins, glowing eyes and grasping claws that were still clinging to Hyrule, the traveler struggling weakly in their clutches as he tried desperately to escape.

A Zora. The corrupted version that lived in his and Hyrule’s lands.

...Obviously a long way from home, considering they were in Four’s era.

Legend swung his sword as the Zora abruptly released Hyrule and charged at him, eyes blazing. A shrill screech gurgled outwards, and Legend pinned his webbed ears back at the noise.

Claws slashed at his face and Legend reeled backwards, but he was satisfied to see a cut on the Zora’s chest. Black blood billowed through the water from both this and his earlier strike, and Legend was careful to avoid it as it spread, the dark cloud as black as ink.

This water was bad enough on its own— infected monster blood was the last thing he needed.

As if to remind him what he was swimming in, a sickening feeling abruptly swept through Legend, and he breathed in a shallow gasp. The taste of the water was all in his mouth, he could feel it and smell it and taste it and it was awful and Legend had to fight back the urge to be sick.

He gritted his teeth as his vision wavered a bit, coughing and fighting past the heaviness sinking into his limbs. Every breath he took he felt worse, every bit of water that rushed through his gills making his head grow thicker and limbs like lead.

If he was doing so badly, he could only imagine the state Hyrule was in, and hoped the traveler had managed to hold his breath so far.

If he hadn’t...

Legend shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on that. He needed to finish this.

Now.

The Zora screeched, and Legend watched as it streaked towards him, green scales blending into the water. Legend twisted away from it as it lunged, swinging his sword around, but claws gouged into his side even as his weapon struck the monster.

His side screamed in pain as his muscles ached, his lungs were on fire, but Legend threw himself forwards anyway, plunging his sword right into the middle of the Zora.

The monster let out an earsplitting keening noise, thrashing to get away from Legend’s sword, but he held tight until its thrashing slowed, then stopped. The beast abruptly fell limp, beginning to sink before it exploded into purplish dust.

Legend didn’t stick around to watch, darting for where he could see Hyrule struggling to reach the surface.

Hyrule saw him approach and his eyes went wide, eyes darting over his tail and scales, webbed hands and gills. He tried to back away, but Legend held out a pleading hand towards him.

“It’s me,” Legend warbled, ignoring how it hurt to talk, and Hyrule stared at him another few moments, gaze softening as recognition lit up in his eyes.

Then he clutched at his throat, bubbles trailing up from his lips.

Legend didn’t hesitate any longer, noting the blood in the water wafting from Hyrule’s ankle. He slung the traveler’s arm over his shoulders, and Hyrule didn’t resist, clinging to his arm rather tightly, and he began to swim for the surface. The Zora had dragged them deep, nearly to the bottom, and it was quite a ways upwards to go.

Legend’s tail seemed unusually heavy as he swam, and he found himself slowing considerably, struggling to focus on his goal.

The sunlight above began to smear, a high-pitched whine ringing in his ears, and Legend desperately pumped his tail, fighting to get him and Hyrule out of the horrible water. But his tail had gone numb, and the ache of his muscles and the fire in his veins and throat and side and everywhere were too much.

He wasn’t going to make it.

Legend gritted his teeth, and put all his remaining energy into giving Hyrule one last desperate shove towards the surface, feeling a spark of hope as Hyrule’s head appeared to breach.

Then he felt himself begin to sink, too weak to keep himself going.

Legend looked through half-lidded eyes at the blood he knew was his, wafting around his tail and shimmering in the weak sunlight. Even the smallest of breaths hurt, lungs and gills aching with fire, and Legend‘s eyes slipped closed, despite how he resisted.

He didn’t want to die like this, or at all, really... but he was content that he’d at least saved Hyrule from a similar fate.

At least he won’t drown... Legend thought as pain and darkness overwhelmed him, and his world disappeared into shadow.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu hyrule #mermaid legend #downfall duo #linked universe fic #fic #writing from the floor #ta dah

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pineappleciders · 1 month ago

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Hiii I saw your EW posts and I was wondeing how Tord And Edd would react to a Y/n who keeps bugs ^^ its a lil weird yeah! Have an amazing morning/night

tord and edd with a reader who keeps bugs headcanons

A/N: i don't keep bugs but um i LOVE them they are so silly 🐛🐜🪲

TORD

so tord isn't really one to get freaked out by bugs, but he also doesn't love them. like he'll let one chill on his wall but he'll be low-key nervous if it gets too close to him

so once he knows you like to collect and keep them, he's a little off-put by the creepier looking ones but he's willing to suck it up

he definitely has his niche interests that he's super Normal about, so he completely understands having a fascination or even obsession with things most people dislike

he'll let you place them on his hand and crawl around, and you can see his shoulders tense as it moves further up his sleeve. though he won't say anything!

tord will 100% let you rant about bugs and their habitats and anything ab them. he might do something else while listening, but he knows the importance of having someone you're able to rant to

he'll sit there patiently as you introduce each bug to him and tell him their names. and it takes awhile for him to remember any but slowly he'll start bonding with them

one time you catch him with his hand in your tarantula enclosure, letting the spider inspect his finger. he'll quickly pull it out and act as if nothing happened

EDD

edd is definitely a bit more spooked by bugs than someone like tord. he used to swat them out of his house, but then he started to think about it and actually feels bad for the little guys

so now he's a lot gentler with them as he sees them as small animals, yet they still scare him half to death sometimes. esp spiders.

so you might have to help condition him getting used to your pets, by showing him pictures and holding them out on your hand.

he doesn't think you're weird for keeping bugs as pets, as he has a love for all creatures big and small. though he shudders when looking at certain insects and truly wonders how you're able to touch them so freely

he'll (very) slowly start getting used to having bugs in the house and seeing them. surprisingly, one day he decides to hold a mantis in his hands all by himself.

when he asks you to help him, you question why he wants to do this all of a sudden.

"oh.. y'know.. no reason."

but you can easily tell from his firm expression that he wants to become braver. though with his caring personality, you're sure he also wants to indulge in your interests to make you happy!

#eddsworld #ew headcanons #eddsworld x reader #bugs #insects #tord x reader #edd x reader #ew tord #ew edd #ew tord x reader #ew edd x reader #headcanons #drabble #pineappleciders #no id

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loonybun · 1 month ago

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Meeting Aisling (CYOA) 3

hiiiii ough this took forever :( don’t feel like it’s super good but new character! yay!!! he’s normal guys i promise (fingers crossed behind my back)

contains: captivity, faerie carewhumper, dryad guy of unknown whumperee status, references to past abduction(s), fantasy whump, fantasy setting, manhandling.

—————————————————

You decide to look for anything that could help you escape— or at the very least tell you where you are. The window is the obvious thing to look at, considering it’s the only other possible way out of the room. The gaps in the vines are big enough for you to stick your hands through, but you probably couldn’t get much further.

From the holes, you can see a village beneath the structure you’re in. People. There are people here. If you made enough noise, maybe someone would come and save you.

The trees around the village are thicker than most of the houses. Massive structures that you can’t even see the tops of. Branches as big as trains.

Even if the window wasn’t obscured, it’d be too high to jump from. You’re not going to have much luck with it.

You walk over to the vanity in one of the other parts of the room. The mirror greets you with your disgruntled state, twigs and flowers sticking out of tangled hair.

The table is covered with all kinds of trinkets. Bells, flower circlets, crystals, little animals made of glass. It may have been a charming collection under different circumstances, but unfortunately you don’t have time to focus on something so small.

Besides the vanity, there’s also a desk filled to the brim with papers and books. Bottles of ink line the shelf above it. Great, the weirdo that kidnapped you is a writer. You can definitely use that to escape. Maybe threaten to set some of his manuscripts on fire or give him a bad review. That’ll show him.

You groan and go back over to the bed, flopping onto the soft mattress. Despite your amazing investigative skills, you’d somehow neglected the plate of fresh berries on the bedside table. Just looking at them makes your mouth water.

If you’re going to escape, you have to have some fuel in you, right?

As you reach out to grab one of the fruits, something snaps around your wrist and yanks it away.

“Don’t eat that.”

The roots around your arm squeeze it tightly. After you recover from the shock, you turn to face the source of the voice.

The tree.

The fucking tree.

Or what was a tree five seconds ago, at least. Of course. Why not? Magical bug men, talking trees, sure. Just throw in a dancing bear at this point.

The tree— or man, you’re not sure what to describe it as— is giving you a hard glare. It’s entirely made of wood, save for its flowering hair and a few rogue blossoms. If looks could kill, you have a feeling that they wouldn’t be able to put your corpse back together.

It slowly retracts its branches from your wrist, forming them back into a more hand-like structure.

He inspects you for a moment.

“…His standards get lower by the hour. Goodness, where did he even find you? A dog park?” The— whatever he is, scoffs.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong, you did look like a mess, but that doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt.

He plucks a leaf from your hair and grins. “I mean, this is just sad. And I thought the last one was bad… No, you take the cake. Anyways, how long were you planning on staying here? Come up with any daring escape plans yet? Please, do tell.”

Even if you had, telling this thing seemed like a bad idea. He definitely doesn’t have your best interests in mind.

“What?” The man(?) frowns. “Too harsh? Alright, fine. I should have just started with names. Have you given yours to him yet?”

You shake your head.

“Good. Don’t. Anyways, since you won’t have much of a use for it anyways, mine is Oleander. You don’t have to give me yours if you don’t want to. I’d like to keep this interaction as quick as possible. Feel free to ask questions though. Better to hear it than learn from experience in this case.”

Well, you sure had a lot of questions. Why are you here? Where is here? What is he? What snatched you away to begin with?

“Ohh, you’re one of the panicky ones. Alright, well, for starters, you’re in a tree. Or a palace. Whatever you’d like to imagine it as, honestly. I don’t know the exact reason you were brought here, but I have a few guesses. Let’s just say none of them are situations anyone would want to be in.” He keeps up with your rapid-fire, only taking a moment in between questions.

“I’m what’s called a dryad. Essentially, a plant with a consciousness and a body created by magic— You do know what magic is, right? Yes? Alright, that saves some explaining. I don’t really want to get into detail about what a faerie is, but that’s what the other man was. Anyways, I’ll be brief, I don’t want you here, and I’m assuming you don’t want to be here either, right?”

You nod.

“Good. That saves me some trouble. I’m going to help you escape. Now, he’s probably going to be back within the next ten or so minutes. You’re not going to mention me to him, understand? He doesn’t know I exist, and I want to keep it that way.”

After you give another nod, he sighs in relief. You watch as Oleander moves back towards the center of the room, his wood skin slowly morphing, bending, and reshaping until you’re left “alone” again.

Your chest feels lighter. There’s still a chance to escape. While you’re still not entirely sure you can trust your new companion, he’s still a failsafe if you can’t find another way out of here.

Just a few minutes later, the door swings open and a familiar person enters the room.

Person? Was that right?

Ai smiles at you, slit pupils you hadn’t noticed previously practically glistening when he spots you at the far end of the room.

“Oh— Hi! You’re awake now? Is everything alright? You look a little shaken up…” He flutters over to you.

Flutters. Right. Wings.

You can’t help but stare. Whatever you’d met in the woods hardly resembled him now. The fae in front of you dawned a long, fairly intricate cloak. His skin— or fur, it’s honestly hard to tell, is a soft pink. He’s not unpleasant looking in any sense, just… Unusual. If it weren’t for the sharp teeth, he’d almost look approachable.

He’s acting like he’s actually concerned about you. Like he didn’t just take you to an entire new dimension. Like there’s any other reason that you’d be upset. You just continue to stare, unable to create a response with the knot in your throat.

Ai sets a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Upset? That’s okay. I know it’s a lot for you to take in. I hope you don’t feel like I was trying to deceive you before in the woods… I just thought you seemed interesting! I wanted to get to know you a bit before… Well, before all of this. I didn’t mean to rush you.” You’re hardly paying attention to what he’s saying. He kidnapped you. Of course you’re upset!

“You probably feel scared, don’t you? I… I want to say that I won’t hurt you. Those aren’t my intentions with you. Why don’t we get to know each other a bit better? I want to understand you, and I want you to be able to understand me, too. I know this isn’t the best first impression… But I really didn’t want to have to mess with your memories again. I want to do it right this time.”

This is insane. You can’t read him. What does he want from you? He said he doesn’t want to hurt you, but none of his actions so far have even slightly supported that. He abducted you. He chased you through the fucking woods. What other reason could he possibly have for keeping you here?

“Go ahead, ask me anything.”

taglist: @whumpy-wyrms @inkwell-and-dagger @lordcatwich @kawaii-cakes @enigmawriteswhump (let me know if you want to be added!!!)

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dotster001 · 1 year ago

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Yandere Chevalier headcanon please 🥺

Summary:Chevalier x gn! Reader

CW: yandere,physical harm to reader, murder, psychological harm to reader, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, blood, isolation, food and water deprivation, probably more but consider yourself warned

A/N: idk how dark you expected it to be, but this is the brutal beast we're talking about so.... also! I have an in progress series where I look at the Yan journey of ikepri characters after their routes, so if eventually there is a fic that is very similar to this, think of it as a rough draft

When he falls, he falls hard. Not that you'll ever know. To you, he'll always look unfeeling and cruel. Most days you can't help but wonder if he hates you. But it's so far from the truth. For the first time, he's filled with love and warmth. And it's so overwhelming that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

He tries to let you live free for a while. After all, he would fight to the death if someone held him under lock and key. For a while he's successful. Until one day, in his distraction over you, an assassination attempt gets a little too close to you. You aren't hurt. But you find yourself drenched in blood as Chev runs the assailant through. Your haunted face is revealed as the body in front of him crumples. And he realizes that he can't leave you on your own. Not if he's going to be a part of your life.

He thinks he is fine with your hatred. After all, he loves you, and that's what matters. He can't expect you to love him back, not when you're chained to the headboard of his bed. He's used to people fearing and hating him. And yet he's beginning to feel a new feeling. A new, nasty, aching feeling in his chest. When he holds you and all you do is whimper, the ache worsens.

And people begin to notice. Chev, king, and master of his countenance, is cranky. Only Clavis and Sariel know the truth, and while Clavis is initially amused, eventually, even he needs his boss to get back to normal. So, it's not very gentlemanly, but he places a book, that's been secretly popular in the town, on Chevalier's desk unceremoniously. A dark romance, where the love interest succumbs to Stockholm syndrome and falls for their captor. It wasn't an openly popular book, but someone had to be purchasing all those books.

Chevalier had scoffed at his brother's gift, initially thinking it was a joke. But upon further inspection, he realized it was a piece offering. A genuine gift. A piece of advice. If anyone could psychologically break a darling into submission, it would be him.

And he does. It's not perfect submission, he still wants you to be you, but it's enough that you grow dependent on him. Just as before, you can't be sure if he loves you or hates you. And that's the crux of his control over you. If you're good, he'll heave a heavy sigh and give you affection. If you're bad, it will be like you don't even exist in his world. You are dirt. Dust. A bug beneath his feet. Only good darlings get love. Just like every other fool in his life, you're a pawn in his game. You just happen to be a fool that makes him feel butterflies in his stomach.

He doesn't like to hurt you physically. But he will if he has to. Nothing too damaging, part of your appeal is your aesthetic, after all. But if you do something stupid like think you can escape (and all you have to do is think it. He always knows) he might slap you, or hit you with a riding crop. If you make it a step outside of the room, he won't hurt you. But someone you love will be killed right in front of you. And you will be tasked with cleaning it up. If you somehow make it farther than step outside the room (aka, he lets you as a trust test) prepare to be isolated in a cold damp dungeon cell for as long as it takes for you to pass out from lack of food or water. Then he'll nurse you back to health so that all your mind sees is how kind and doting he is.

You can't win against the brutal beast. Geniuses have tried and failed. And one day, when you no longer have the foolish urge to fight him, when the prey finally recognizes it has lost, he might tell you he loves you.

#ikemen prince chevalier #yandere ikemen prince #yandere ikepri #yandere ikemen prince x reader #ikemen prince x reader #ikepri x reader #yandere chevalier michel #yandere chevalier #yandere chevalier x reader #yandere chevalier michel x reader #chevalier michel

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inkformyblood · 6 months ago

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tangled up in you (COD Mermay 2024)

SoapGhost, Mer Ghost x Human Soap. Mature, lime. (Minor GhostRoach - Roach is alive)

“Will you look at that?”

Ghost, despite everything instinct thrumming through his skull, woven into the seams of his ribs that demand he keep his attention on the man swimming in front of him, turns to look where Johnny indicates. It takes him a moment, the sunlight bleeding through the water brighter than he is used to, but he can make out the fluttering shapes of kelp twisting around each other.

“It’s a plant,” he offers. Swimming closer, Ghost places himself beneath Johnny, letting the man sprawl along his back as he continues to inspect the kelp.

The suit the other wears is, apparently, a technological marvel, a fact which Simon is reminded of everytime Johnny drops into the enclosed ocean cove to visit him, frequently in a new set of colours. This one is red, or, at least, is what Johnny knows of as red. Brighter than the blood that wells up when Simon’s claws nick through the sturdy fabric to the soft give of Johnny’s hips beneath, darker than the flush that burns over what he can see of Johnny’s cheeks through the full face mask whenever Simon answers in a way he hadn’t been expecting. Simon loves him even so, heavy cumbersome suit and strange mannerisms and all.

“—know it’s a plant, ye bampot.” Johnny thumps his fist against Simon’s chest, his teeth bared in a grin. “I did pass all my science courses to work here, you know. Not just some eejit Romeo come barrelling over the walls to serenade my mermaid Juliet.”

“You haven’t serenaded me at all,” Simon tells him and Johnny curses at him, his cheeks flushed that self same shade of red but not, his eyes as bright as the sky above.

He’s heard Johnny singing before, the roaring ballads in the showers of the scientific institute that echo through the open corridor, spilling just enough out of a propped open maintenance door that Simon could hear it, and he’s wriggled the loose bar out of one of the drains to follow Johnny into town, earning himself a deep gouge on his tail for his trouble when a broken spur caught him on his way back in. He’d heard Johnny sing then too, his arm slung around a man Simon knows as Gaz, holding each other upright as they worked their way through most of the library the small machine had.

But none of those would be the same as Johnny singing for him.

“You’d not be interested in my singing.” The tips of Johnny’s ears are pink, freshly exposed thanks to the recent disappearance of the sides of his hair. It looks sharp and Simon wants to touch it, to feel the difference between the longer piece on top and the shorter sides. It’s fascinating , the small differences between them. Simon’s own hair grows according to his environment, much like himself and his fins. He isn’t as big as he could be, constrained by the size of the tank he’s in and, when he returns to the ocean, he’ll dive deep and grow to his full size, something huge and marvellous for Johnny to witness.

Simon doesn’t bother correcting him yet, rumbles low in his throat before he tips his head back, giving the kelp a once over again. He can’t see what is so compelling about it.

“Why the interest in the kelp?” There’s a sharp note Simon can’t keep out of his voice, a worry of a kind. He’s here for study, stays because he’s not yet bored of the scientists, and if Johnny’s attention is captured utterly by the plant life, that will take him away from Simon’s tank more and more often. It had happened before, Price pulled away from him to the confines of the office, Roach shuffled so sideways into other research projects he’s barely visible beneath the weight of them. He’d manage and come back to Simon after all of it because his bug is a survivor.

“Nah, it’s just…” Johnny shifts, worrying at his lower lip. Like this, Simon could rip his throat out and Johnny wouldn’t even try to get away from him. Instead, he leans up at catch the shiny zip of Johnny’s suit in his teeth, the longer strap exposed in the water and moving like the kelp.

Johnny’s hand presses over his eyes, his thumb laid along the side of Simon’s nose as he tries to push him away. “Stop that. No undressing me yet, I want to try something first.”

Begrudgingly, Simon lets go, holding Johnny far longer than necessary as the other man propels himself forward with a few strong strokes. The warmth of his body has barely faded from the smooth surface of Simon’s palms before he follows him, his tail slicing through the water as he gains on Johnny, sinking below him to follow his movements. It would be easy enough to slam into him, to hold Johnny down and peel the suit from him, even cracking the mask he wears so he can breath so Simon could taste wouldn’t take too long; a couple of bites along the seam, a tooth puncturing the glass and it would be done. He would know Johnny completely and utterly in a way no one else could.

Simon is hungry .

And he loves Johnny.

Both things can be helplessly defiantly true.

“Just, gimme a second alright?” Johnny grins down at him, his brow pinched despite the expression, and a shiver runs down Simon’s spine, the frills on his back fluttering in response. That’s the look of a plan coming into fruition, the ending of something and the beginning of new ideas to take root and rot and flower in the confines of Johnny’s mind.

Simon nods, sinking down further. He settles on the sand, drawing his tail beneath himself and watches Johnny make his way into the kelp. The sunlight filters through the water, shattering it into flickers of light that spin across Simon’s palms as he presses them deeper into the sand. He isn’t made for soft things like daylight, better suited for the cold crushing deeps where he can grow, his colouration bleeding over his form until he becomes something else. He doesn’t remember much of his youth, too dark to pick out anything of substance except a gnawing pain in his belly and copper in his mouth that would never fill him, but he remembers one other mer, larger than him in every way, her stripes regimented over her arms where his follows the pattern of his bones.

He thought she was beautiful.

“Ready for you, Si!”

Simon rises in an instant, pushing himself off from the sand with a dull haze following him, the surface disturbed by his movement. He reaches the kelp where Johnny had vanished into and pauses, tipping his head to one side, working his teeth against each other.

“Are you stuck?”

Almost doesn’t seem possible and yet there are thick bands of kelp draped over Johnny’s arms, another thrown around his waist.

“Yeah.” Johnny reclines back into his self-inflicted bower, completely unphased by his current state of capture. Simon drifts closer, his fins caught in the gentle current of the water, drawn wide and billowing.

Johnny continues in the same tone, bright and breathless, his chest rising and falling with every word. “You could do anything to me right now.”

There’s no warning light on his monitor, no holes in his suit, so Simon leans closer, peering over Johnny’s shoulder to inspect the free moving kelp behind him. He isn’t caught, just pretending to be so. He draws back, lowering his face so he is level with Johnny’s through the glass and smiles. Row upon row of curved teeth are visible in the reflection and Simon’s eyes are dark against the pale flash of his markings, something made to hunt and feed, a terror from the deep existing in the light because he chooses to, a beast in human form. “I already can.”

There is no other way to describe it; Johnny’s eyes bloom.

Algae devastates the surface of the ocean, blots out any hope of light reaching further down, and Johnny’s pupils expand to restrict the colour to a thin line around the edge. His mouth hangs slack, displaying the blunt edges of his teeth.

Simon chuckles, the sound flaring through his gills, and he snaps his teeth lazily. Johnny’s gaze doesn’t shift from them, instead, somehow, focusing more on the void just behind them, the danger they could be. Johnny’s fingers twitch, craving his pencil and notebook if Simon had to guess, desperate to document this moment in something more tangible than his memory, more clear than his dreams that would leave him trembling and sweat-soaked.

“Instead of playing, I could just hold you down when we fuck?” Simon draws back, out of the detestable kelp, and waits in the open water. He peels a stray frond from his arm, his lip curled at the sensation of it clinging to him; oddly cool despite Simon’s lower body temperature and slimy, the imprint lasting far longer than the touch had. It doesn’t take long for Johnny to free himself from his meagre restraints, throwing a handful of curses at the plant matter he’s surrounded himself like talismans, flitting out into the open and into Simon’s arms like he wants to be eaten.

“Well, Si? Don’t keep a man waiting.”

Simon won’t eat Johnny, not yet, maybe not ever. It’s far more interesting with him alive to surprise him, after all.

#soapghost #cod mw2 #mermay #mermay 2024 #ghoap #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #my writing

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rocksaltandmountainash · 4 months ago

Text

Waking up in Beacon Hills - pt. 29

Chapter summary: all work and no play would make kara boring. peter is there to ensure that doesn't happen. set between Teen Wolf seasons 3b and 4, and Supernatural seasons 7 and season 8.

Series masterlist: can be found here.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings/notes: swearing, canon (TW and SPN) typical violence, smut, peter hale being incredibly attractive and nice, which definitely requires a warning. Gif sources: Peter 1 | Peter 2

Utah:

Peter scratches his nails through your scalp, eliciting a contented sigh from you as you recline against him. You’re all kinds of relaxed, leaning back on his chest and resting your hands on his bent knees, savoring the moment as you come down from your high. He’s just given you a good-morning orgasm and if he wasn’t sitting behind you, propping your body up, you could collapse and melt into the bed.

Almost. If not for one question that’s pin balling round your head.

“Peter?”

“Mmm.”

“You know that…. Wh- when you…ah fuck, never mind.”

He stops playing with your hair to peer down at you, “What?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He swiftly wraps hands around your waist and shifts you so you’re facing him, draping your thighs over his own, “Tell me.”

Suddenly keenly interested in inspecting the veins running down his forearm, he has to lay a palm on your cheek to get you to look at him.

“Just…that thing you say -”

“We say a lot of things.”

You smile shyly at that, couldn’t deny it if you’d wanted to, because Peter is vocal and descriptive in bed and he makes you loud. Part of you thinks he does it on purpose, like he’s hoping if you get enough noise complaints at one Motel 6, you’ll be banned from them all and he won’t have to lower himself to your standards anymore.

“You know which thing I mean.”

Peter genuinely has to wrack his brains to figure out what you’re talking about and grins when the penny drops on the word that makes you croon beneath him, throwing your body higher toward ruination in an instant.

“Oh - you mean ‘Daddy’?” he smirks before continuing, “I thought you liked that?”

“I do! But…it doesn’t weird you out?” averting your gaze, your eyes drill a hole in the wall behind him. Tell me you don’t think I’m a freak.

“Why would it?”

“Because you’re someone’s actual father.”

Peter draws in a weighty breath, staring at you intently. He didn’t realize you knew about that, and guesses your source at the same time you break and admit;

“Stiles?”

“Stiles.”

The sound of shared laughter pierces straight through your embarrassment.

“You know they’re dating, right?”

“Yes, thank you - I’m aware,” he says curtly.

It bugs him; Malia with the sarcastic boy who not too long ago was flinging chaos around Beacon Hills - though he knows it’s not his prerogative, his place to be worrying about her.

“For one thing,” Peter lifts his fingers to list off reasons, “I only found out about Malia recently. I didn’t raise her, and she has never called me that.”

It makes sense. You know that blood doesn’t necessarily mean family. As much as you came to adore Bobby, all his bumbling affections couldn’t turn back the clock and make it like you’d known him your whole life, like he’d parented you.

“Also, it’s…” his eyes drift, recalling each yes daddy, daddy please, fuck daddy, you’ve ever uttered, “Exquisite - so you better not stop.”

He grins when you relax, “And third, you started it.”

“What? No, I didn’t!”

“You did.”

“When?” you demand.

He thinks back, pinpoints the beginning, “Colorado - when we sorted that nest.”

“Oh…whoops.”

You don’t remember, would have sworn it was Peter who said it first, which only proves how corrupting he can be, how far gone you are. With your fears mollified, you scoot closer and push on his chest to force him down to the pillows.

“Does Stiles know about me?”

“Pretty sure you’ve met him - several times,” you tease, grabbing a condom from the box on the nightstand.

Peter rips the foil packet open with his teeth. “Come on, you don’t gossip about me?”

“God no! Much as I love the kid, I’m not sharing details of my sex life with a seventeen-year-old.”

Impatiently, you wait as Peter carefully rolls the condom down before positioning yourself above him.

“Fair enough…mmmm,” he sighs as you glide over his length. “What about Weiner boy?”

That would be worse than Stiles - technically Samandriel’s probably thousands of years old, but he looks eleven, so the thought makes you cringe.

“Nah, he’s mad at me.”

“Why?”

“I have an idea. He thinks it’s dumb.”

The sensation of Peter’s hands squeezing your waist, exerting control over your motions, gets you worked up, primed for another round. How he studies your every move floods you with want, causing your cheeks to flush as you grind.

“What’s the idea?”

“Not telling.”

“Why?”

“It might actually be dumb…shit…”

Peter sits up, the head of his cock tapping against your entrance,

“Can you just shut up now?” you whine.

“Depends,” he smiles into your neck, gripping the base of his cock, “You gonna keep saying it?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Finally, he tilts his hips and lets you sink down onto him.

****

Arizona:

You decide you deserve a night off. The day hasn’t been particularly taxing, just a couple of hours wandering through the mall to replenish your shower stuff and skin care.

You even got a trim, a few inches of split ends taken care of before feeding quarters into a massage chair and licking cinnamon sugar from your fingers after a warm pretzel, reluctant to venture out of the air conditioning back into the humidity.

After such a peaceful day of research and retail therapy, you simply can’t face the thought of hunting, want to chill, be normal for a change. So now you’re wolfing down a burrito while you watch A-Team reruns and text Peter. He’s arriving tomorrow, and you’ve been thinking about him all week.

Luckily, the limited amount of sex you’d had in the past hadn’t been bad, per se, maybe just a little disappointing. Bland. Boring. Not that you’d known at the time.

Chris was your introduction to multiple orgasms and dirty words falling from your mouth and all kinds of things you’d wanted but never tried. The discoveries you’d made about yourself, the way he monopolised your mind for a bit there, had felt like more than only sex. All intertwined with wanting to be his - you liked it when he called you pretty as he came and held your hand after, loved how he snuck kisses away from the bedroom.

But that’s all it - all Chris - can be now; a memory. Had to try to forget, the good parts and the bad. Clear out the image of his hand wrapped around a gun, pointed at Stiles. Push down the humiliating way you’d tried to fuck him after Allison, how kindly he’d denied you, barely touched you after that night. Until he left and kissed you goodbye at the airport.

Forced to choose one thing to lock away in your mind forever?

You wouldn’t be able to decide between the miss you and you’ve got this and trust your instincts or the heat of his breath on the shell of your ear moaning your name and groaning shit baby, just there and mmm, that’s it.

Peter, on the other hand, is your first experience of fucking like it’s sport, or a competition, something to excel at. Of giving yourself over to someone and letting them use you as they please. He calls you things you never would allow outside the walls of cheap motel rooms, things you probably shouldn’t enjoy - slut and whore. But always daddy’s slut and my perfect little whore.

It’s disgusting, and it’s worrying and it’s perverse, except...it really isn’t. It’s fucking hot.

No stake in each other, no claims, just teasing and playing games and then going your separate ways. It’s purely physical, neither of you have feelings, you’re merely another of each other’s bad habits, like how smoking tastes so right when you’re drinking.

Regardless of what this thing with Peter is, it’s undeniably fun and you want to keep it. You’re even beginning to feel relieved you’re so completely alone, because you don’t want to defend your desires, just want to follow them down the rabbit hole. Why not have some light to look forward to when everything else is so dark?

Wiping your hands, you laugh at his response to your text saying you’re headed for a shower.

Pics?? 🙏

You tell him to piss off and stand waiting for the water to warm up with your phone in your hand.

Go clean up, doll. Tomorrow you’ll be filthy. Sleep well x

****

Oregon:

A month later, and you’ve got a fairly stable routine going, taking tentative steps back into the real world. It’s an after effect of running away or being left behind that you become adept at rebuilding. You’ve done it before, even find some comfort in sowing the seedlings of a new life.

You work during the week, mostly straightforward cases, make time for Samandriel even though neither of you have anything resembling news, and do a reasonable job of being nice to him.

Peter usually arrives on Fridays - grabbing you up as soon as you open the door, always ready and always with some snarky remark about your lodgings.

“Is there any hovel you won’t stay in?”

“‘Dunno, any mirror you don’t stop in front of?

Tonight, though, you’re alone. Kicking open a flimsy bathroom door and slamming on the light switch, leaving a trail of blood across the wall and knocking the hairdryer out of its cradle. Panting hard and mumbling to yourself, you take off your jacket and cut your t-shirt up the middle so you can peel it away.

One glance at the gash that starts at your shoulder blade and runs all the way round your left side has your throat filling with acid. You slip your arms through your bra straps, unclip it and drop it at your feet before you lay out supplies across the counter and steel yourself.

“Shit.”

Much worse than you’d thought.

You’d only tracked two demons sneaking in and out of the abandoned mill. Nothing you couldn’t handle on your own. After climbing in through a basement entrance, there were three more waiting. During the fight that ensued, you lost your footing and landed on something sharp. In your hustle to get back up, you’d twisted without thinking, howling as your flesh tore open.

With the stress and the fever pitch of your anger, you were able to clumsily dispatch the last demon before you staggered back to your car, which was hidden behind the tree line a mile down the road. Not your finest work. Wasn’t until you were a few blocks from your motel that you started to feel the pain.

You feel sick as you un-spool thread with trembling hands. Feel so fucking stupid as you poke into the skin under your breast, watching your progress in the mirror, so you can pretend it’s not your body that’s carved and leaking blood.

Realizing there’s no chance you’ll be able to reach around to patch up the entire wound, you let the needle hang useless and pull your phone from your jeans pocket.

Don’t want to ask for his help but you’re out of options; the cut is still dripping and you’re chilly and tired and he’s closer than anyone else.

“Fuck.” you watch a fat red line dribble down your abdomen as your finger hovers over the contact. You hit the call button before you change your mind.

When it clicks over to voicemail, you turn and slide down the cabinet, wanting to cry at the automated voicemail greeting.

“Hey, it’s me. I’m in Oregon…can you…”

Suddenly you panic. He won’t come. Why the hell would he? You barely talk when he visits. All your questions seem to annoy him, so you just bang the weekend away - hardly what you’d call friendship, and probably not worthy of a favour.

“Can you come fuck me right now?”

The only ace up your sleeve to guarantee he’ll show up.

“Sweet Home Inn, Highway 20, Room 7.” you speak fast, closing your eyes and pulling your jacket to wrap it around yourself.

Peter parks next to your beaten up car, smiling to himself and brimming with smugness as he retrieves his overnight bag from the passenger seat.

It’s only Wednesday and you’ve called to beg. This is going well.

He raps his knuckles on the door, playing out in his mind how the night will go, what new thing you might be up for trying this week. Then there’s an unmistakable scent in the air and he barges in to find you slumped against the bathroom cabinet.

You’re out cold, topless except for your jacket thrown up over your shoulders. Could be mistaken for asleep, if not for the puddle of stained red clothes next to you, if your skin didn’t look ashen, gray under the singular lightbulb.

He moves your jacket aside and sees what he’d smelt - long, dried rivulets down your stomach.

Peter scoops you up and takes you to the bed, happy to hear you groan but unhappy you’re not waking. He presses a towel to your torso, because moving you caused fresh streams.

so much blood

Deaton doesn’t answer Peter’s call, and he fights the impulse to throw his phone across the room, electing instead to glower at your side, as if his angry look alone might staunch the flow.

too much blood

He calls Derek, who thankfully picks up.

“What?”

“I need you to go to Deaton’s.”

Peter can feel Derek rolling his eyes at him through the phone.

“Why? Pet-”

“Kara’s hurt. She needs a Doctor.”

****

People are arguing.

“She should be in the hospital.”

“Keep your voice down.”

They’re quieter now, “If she wanted to go, she would have.”

“Fine. Get her a tetanus shot, at least. And look out for signs of infection.”

“Fine,” Peter is equally snarky, “Here.”

He hands the man wearing glasses a wad of cash and bundles him out the door.

You watch it occur from one opened eye, wondering briefly who that man is and who they’re talking about before you fall back asleep.

****

Night comes and Peter wakes you, gently running his palm up and down your arm until you stir.

“Hey. You came?” you’re groggy and sore and more than a little shocked.

“You called,” he tucks your hair behind your ears, unsettlingly relieved to hear you speak, “Who did this, Kara?”

“Huh? No one…” you scramble for something that will stop the chilly steel in his voice from overflowing, because he’s here now and you don’t want him to leave, “I….slipped.”

You change the subject, wriggling your arms out from the sheets, “Who was that guy?”

“Some doc Deaton recommended. Stitched you up. Said you made a good start.”

Peering under the blankets, you look over the cleaned up wound, take in the line of sutures - much tidier than you would have achieved.

“I tried.” you admit, embarrassed by your efforts, and squirming under the soft smile he’s aiming your way.

“What do you need?”

Closing your eyes, you stretch your legs, careful not to move your body too much.

“I’m starving. Diner?”

“No, you need proper food.”

You roll your eyes at Peter’s disapproval. True, you’ve been subsisting on a steady diet of scrambled eggs, takeout, and protein shakes. Though in your defense, the drinks are loaded with vitamins, taste like chocolate milk and are the easiest way to stay full during your long drives.

He swats at your leg, “C’mon - get your ass up.”

“Eggs are healthy,” you mumble under your breath as you slowly get off the bed to wrap a bandage around yourself.

“They’re probably powdered.” Peter tells you, helping you get your bra clasped and pull a shirt on.

“Waffle House would never!” you protest, swaying as you let him do your buttons.

“There,” he takes your face in his hands and kisses you, “You’re ready.”

****

The restaurant Peter takes you to is fancy, as expected. What’s unexpected is that the hostess let you in.

Must be a slow night, or he laid out a hefty tip or - there it is. You realize Peter has disarmed her with all his handsome and charm when she grazes her hand over his back while taking his coat, and looks solely at him as she lists the specials.

“It’s like I’m not even here.” you tease after she’s gone.

“Jealous?”

“Definitely…. think she’ll take my number?”

Peter peruses the wine list as you read the menu, frowning at the prices.

“Don’t,” he warns, “Get whatever you feel like. My treat.”

“You sure? I didn’t bring my wallet.”

He pulls the menu away from your face, “It’s just dinner. I’m not giving you an organ.”

“You’d love to give me an ‘organ’”

Groaning at your terrible joke, he opens his mouth to say something obscene when the hostess returns, beaming at him.

He orders, then directs her attention to you, “What do you want, darling?”

“I’ll get the eye fillet, please.”

“Sides?” she’s a touch less friendly now.

“Green beans, and mashed potatoes, and…mushrooms.”

Peter grins at your appetite and you shrug, too hungry to care about politeness and if he’s buying, you’re eating.

“Drink?”

Now she sounds downright snippy and you can’t look at Peter in case you laugh.

“Just whatever he’s having.”

You hand back the menu and glare at Peter, waiting till she’s out of earshot to scold him, “Why’d you say that? She’s gonna fuck with my food!”

“She wouldn’t dare.”

Your phone vibrates against your ass and you squeak before you pull it out of your pocket and read the screen, remarking on the coincidence -

“It’s Derek.”

“Ah.”

You raise your eyebrows that he doesn’t sound surprised.

“I called him. I was trying to get hold of Deaton. Derek went and found him.”

Peter tries not to let it get to him when you mutter shit before hitting ‘answer’.

“Hey, one sec.” you tell Derek, holding the phone against your chest while you get up from the booth.

“I’ll be quick,” you promise Peter, “Check my food for broken glass please?”

You drop a peek on his cheek as you pass, leaving him smiling. Outside, you pace the block as you bring the phone up to your ear.

“Hi.”

Derek doesn’t bother with a hello, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Just a cut. All sewn up.” You pretend that’s all he’s talking about.

“That’s not - why is he there?”

“He’s…we’re…”

Screwing each other senseless? Pals?

“I called him.”

“Kara, he’s not what you think.”

“And what is it I think, Derek?” you ask, working hard to keep your voice on an even keel.

“I mean…he’s not a good guy.”

He’s probably right, you should heed his warning, but you look through the window and see Peter sip his wine without a care in the world. He’s just him, he’s here, and you’re not particularly good either.

“I can handle Peter.” you laugh off Derek’s worries, “Okay?”

You hear him exhale… ”Okay.”

****

Peter stays an extra few days, helping you out while you recuperate. He refuses to let you do anything for yourself, bringing you coffee and food in bed, fetching your laptop when you’re fed up with reality TV, lingering outside the bathroom door while you shower.

He’s kind and attentive and you wonder if it’s because he feels guilty. He should. You’re frustrated, borderline hostile, because Peter’s been ignoring you.

Tipsy from the drinks you had downed, drunk on how he’d taken your hand and shot the hostess a pointed stare, you pawed greedily at him in the car on the way back from dinner.

“Peter? Can I?”

He tuts, shaking his head as he peels your hand off his thigh, “No, you’ve been bad - running off, getting hurt.”

You huffed and sulked, then your hand snaked back toward him. “Please….Daddy?”

He couldn’t refuse, with your voice needy and your fingers running across the pronounced bulge in his trousers.

“Need it that bad?”

He smirks as you nod eagerly and pretends to be annoyed, “Go ahead, doll.”

Made it back without crashing, locked the door behind you, and almost got him right where you needed him. Peter could always fuck you dumb, bury himself deep in a way that had your vision blurring and stopped your mind from spiraling.

So, you braced for the pressure that would drive away your shame at messing up and having to resort to calling him to rescue you.

He looked down, saw your eyes squeezed tight shut and quickly put an end to it. Making a barrier of pillows between you, he told you to quit bitching and rest.

By the end of the week, you’re climbing the walls, itching to leave. Had grown accustomed to being alone, to uninterrupted days spent with only your own thoughts, so it’s strange to share your space with someone for such a length of time. And if he won’t fuck you, what’s the point?

“It looks good,” Peter says, inspecting the cut as you lie on your side, arm thrown up over your head and clutching a sheet against your front.

You’re healing fast, not as fast as he would, obviously, but he’s pleased with your progress.

“Good enough to get outta here?” you ask, dropping your arm.

“Wait…” Peter pulls your arm back where it was, “I’m fixing you.”

He focuses on arranging three rectangles of gauze in a line and taping them down carefully as you huff out a sigh, not sure which is worse - the ache of your injury or the one between your legs.

“Done.”

You tug a t-shirt over your head and start clearing up the trash, but Peter smacks your hand away.

“I got it.” he sits next to you and repacks the first aid kit, “You in a hurry to get somewhere?”

You glance toward your open notebook, “Mmm. Maybe Chicago?”

“What’s this?” he stands and picks it up, flipping through the pages, “See the Empire State Building? Faulkner Books, Jackson Square?”

“Hey! Give it back.”

Leaping off the bed, you grab for the book, but Peter spins and continues to read,

“Ride a horse? Kara, there are horses in Oregon.”

“Not the point, you dick.”

“Are you…” he turns to face you, “Are you scared of horses?”

“The average horse weighs 500kgs.”

Peter laughs.

“Shut up!” you try again to get it out of his grasp, wincing as you reach up.

“Sorry, here.” Peter hands it over immediately when he sees your pain, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” annoyed you lift your shirt to show him your side, “See? No blood.”

Peter’s gaze travels along your body, taking in the littered bruises in various hues of yellow and purple, and the small cuts and scabs of pink that dot your skin.

“Darach?” he whispers, eyeing older scars that have faded to an almost translucent silver.

Nodding and realizing he’s staring, you drop your shirt, self-conscious under his burning scrutiny.

You’re not hideous, but you don’t think you’re beautiful either. Hated feeling frail or weak, so are proud of your hard earned muscles, years of a strict training schedule giving you strength where you wanted it. A decent rack, curvy enough to like the way you look in jeans - but that was in clothes, covered. Without layers is a different story, an ugly one.

“Don’t.”

Peter moves your hand away from your hem, tracing his fingertips gently across your skin. His other hand reaching around the nape of your neck to bring you close,

“Scars mean you survived.”

#wakingupinbeaconhills #peter hale smut #peter hale fanfiction #supernatural x teen wolf fic #spn x tw #tw x spn #alan deaton #derek hale #peter hale

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ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask · 6 months ago

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The Mudman (again)

This one goes out to @eldewinddolly

---

“What in Heaven is that?” Trouble barked, drawing a gun on instinct. The target he was currently aiming at scurried back and forth in the torchlight, acting agitated. It hissed, its shining black shell chittering in the firelight as it darted around in the sand. It was almost like the disgusting little creature had realized that it was in danger.

Artemis smiled almost draconically. “Beautiful is what it is, Mister Kelp. Beautiful.” He knelt down to inspect the beast, which took the opportunity to leap up at him threateningly. “Fascinating little creatures,” Artemis continued, dancing out of the bug’s range. “From the family Scarabaidae. This branch of the tree appears to be particularly partial to an all-meat diet. In fact…”

Holly, who had drawn her own weapon when her academically inclined kin opted to wax poetic, knocked her shoulder against Artemis. “We get it, you’re in love,” she said through tight lips. “Now step on it. It’s freaking me out.”

“Step on it?” Artemis asked, spinning around to regard his sister with a look of shock and disgust. “I expected better from my own flesh and blood. This creature is a snapshot of history… you saw how they swarmed earlier, we haven’t seen a beetle quite like it in… well, I don’t believe there is anything like this on record! We ought to -”

His lecture was cut off by the sound of a sickening crunch.

Trouble pinched the bridge of his nose. “Holly. Please tell me that thing didn’t just take a bite out of Artemis,” he groaned. “I’d really rather not have to dig a man-eating bug out of your brother today.”

“Wah feen?” asked a muffled voice, its owner standing over the beetle. Or rather… standing over where the beetle had been only a moment before.

Holly made a quiet gagging sound and turned her face into Trouble’s shoulder. “It’s somehow worse,” she managed to say after a moment. “Much worse.”

“Worf thah wah?” the hairy little man asked, popping the other half of the beetle into his mouth and biting down. He chewed for a moment, then grinned. “Now come on, love,” he chuckled, noting Holly’s discomfort. “Beetles like this are a part of my heritage. My grandma practically raised me on these little beauties.”

Anger flashed across Artemis’s countenance for just a moment before he managed to school his features into a mask of calm indifference once more. “Mister Diggums… you might want to reconsider your dietary habits in regards to this particular source of protein. You may be interested to learn that they are carnivorous.”

Mulch flashed Artemis his signature tombstone grin. “I’ve been accused of the same, my friend,” he said with a wink.

Artemis let a smirk of his own cross his thin lips. “That may well be, Mister Diggums, but pause to consider with me for a moment… have you seen many natural animals running around Hamunaptra? Anything that we didn’t bring with us?”

The mirth in Diggums’ eyes cooled ever so slightly. “Can’t say as I have, no,” he said slowly. “What’s your point?”

Artemis slowly paced toward the hairy fellow, tapping his chin theatrically. “Well, Mister Diggums, if there are no sources of meat to which these fascinating little creatures might be availing themselves, just where do you imagine they’ve been sourcing their nutrition?”

Mulch swallowed nervously, any trace of humor now gone from his face. “You don’t mean…”

“Oh yes, my friend.” The smile on Artemis’s face was more unsettling than ever. “I believe they’ve survived off eating what remains of the mummies here.”

Several long moments of very tense silence passed amongst the group. Finally Holly holstered her sidearm. She dusted off her hands and turned away from the poor stunned fellow still looking, somewhat terrified, at her brother. Trouble matched her step for step, looking significantly paler now.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smirk at her companion. “Artemis was embellishing to make a point. These mummies are all far too old to be feeding any of these surviving beetles.”

Trouble stopped cold, turning to look at her. Then he began to laugh, long and loud. “You two are evil,” he said, shoulders shaking. “Pure evil.” He shook his head, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at her.

Holly felt her cheeks redden slightly. “He’s the evil one,” she defended herself. “I just play along on occasion.” Then she rested her hands on her hips, looking around the subterranean tunnel they traveled through. “Still,” she whispered confidentially, “that thing seemed pretty aggressive. Try not to get cornered by a swarm of them.”

Then she was off again, leaving a somewhat perturbed Trouble cautiously inspecting the shadows behind her, his hand trailing to the heel of his pistol.

#artemis fowl #af #af fandom #fanfiction #my writing #holly short #mulch diggums #trouble kelp

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yeehawbvby · 1 month ago

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When the Moon Fell in Love With the Sun | Ch. 7*

March x F!Farmer

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventual smut)

Chapter Summary: Vera picks some very interesting hair dye for the farmer. March goes feral for it.

Author’s Note: No smut yet, but the end of this chapter is the lead-up. Do what you will with that info ;3c

Table of Contents + Work Summary

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The following weekend, Celine and December found themself inspecting Merri’s haunted attic furniture set with tilted heads and curious eyes.

“How does she make those spiderwebs so realistic?” Celine wondered.

“Real spiders,” her friend joked in turn.

“Ew, what?!”

“‘Ew?’ You don’t want little guys living in your dresser?”

“Why would I want insects in my dresser?” She furrowed her brow, “What if they‘re an invasive species and kill all my plants?”

December, who was a recent bug enjoyer thanks to her quests for Luc as of late, held back the intense urge to correct her — spiders are arachnids, thank you — instead responding, ”I can appreciate that you’re more worried about your plants than your clothes.”

The florist shrugged, “I’ll just pawn the critters off to Luc as I find them on me throughout the day.”

Josephine and Hemlock, who were arm-in-arm and browsing the same set just a few steps away, interjected in unison. “Please don’t.”

December giggled while Celine pouted, “Too many bugs?”

“Too many spiders,” the bartender corrected.

Josephine nodded, then shuddered, “Those things get speedy.”

“I would be too if I had eight legs,” Celine reasoned.

Upon passing close by and hearing talk of things with eight legs, Luc rushed over to rattle off some spider facts, which the four adults gladly listened to. While the little guy’s bug hyperfixation could be annoying for his parents physically, they all admired his dedication to entomology.

As the conversation died off, with three-fifths of the inn-running family parting ways, December and Celine found their way to Olric, March and Merri on the other side of the stall. March had been singing high praise about Merri’s craftsmanship, so Olric politely broke off to hang out with the women. He wasn’t involved in the conversation anyway — he’d already showered Merri in plenty of compliments about her furniture this week.

Their conversation took a turn into one about rocks, as they usually tended to with Olric. When Celine cooed over how adorable the really round rock in the museum was, the conversation shifted into how seriously square the nearby stone on display had been.

As the trio slowed down, deciding if they should visit Darcy or Vera first, December brought up to Olric that she decided she would dye her hair. Like he’d reminded her, it’s not permanent. What was the worst that could happen?

He and Celine beamed, practically shoving December in Vera’s direction. “Get in there, tiger!” the gentle giant told her, a hearty pat on the back sending her stumbling an extra few inches forward.

March, who had just arrived from his chat with Merri, looked on as December cautiously approached the hairdresser. He couldn’t imagine her with anything other than long, white hair. He also couldn’t help but wonder what she was planning to do with it.

Meanwhile, as Olric suggested, December requested to Vera that she take the reins, only asking that she wouldn’t cut her hair more than an inch or so. She often just trimmed it herself, and was pretty particular about it.

Now, Vera was just as interested in Mistria’s gossip as anyone else. She was only human, and she could never simply brush off her clients’ tales about the town’s happenings. That said, she’d heard all the talk about December and March, she’d seen them glued to each other’s sides some weeks, and she’d watched as the grouchy blacksmith finally found someone to soften him up a bit — even if only slightly.

While she didn’t want to disappoint a clearly nervous customer with a full mane of bright red to match her “boyfriend’s,” no matter how badly she was itching to go nuts on such a perfectly blank canvas, she did think a nod to him could be fun. So, after a quick trim, Vera got to work on creating a small ombré that shifted her hair from its natural ivory down into a light blonde, which then faded into a coppery red-orange, and finished off with a dark brown. The dye was only on the bottom handful of inches of her mane, and then the lower inch or so of her bangs.

December wasn’t allowed to look until it was completed, and when she finally did, she thought it was a little strange, but very cute nonetheless. It was subtle enough to not make her feel overdone, and unique enough to give her some extra flair. She noted to herself, too, how downright impressive Vera’s precision with the dye on her fringe was.

“How’d you come up with this?” she asked, fiddling with a few strands.

“You’ve been hanging out with your new beau so much,” the hairdresser smiled, “so I made you into a little forge-toasted marshmallow!” She punctuated her words with a wink.

…Oh.

That answer turned December’s cheeks crimson while she barked a nervous laugh into her palm. March, Olric and Celine — who had been watching the full process save for a short break to grab drinks and snacks from the next stall over — were embarrassed, delighted, and positively tickled respectively.

Dell had been walking past as the explanation went on, returning from a bathroom break at the General Store. She slowed down to be nosy, as one tended to in this small town. Upon hearing the news, she gasped and giggled and ran to alert the rest of the Dragonguard — and by proxy of her volume, several others nearby — who all responded in a similar fashion.

Juniper’s hearty laugh could be heard from the chair December sat in. Elsie was already taking notes for a future romance novel she’d write. Jo and Hemlock — who’d been secretly rooting for the farmer and the blacksmith to get together for months — shared a laugh at such a public display of affection.

Just like that, the pair had become the talk of the town once again.

December’s laughs died into something more airy as she inspected and played with her ends. Vera kept her hair straight, but curled the bottom inch or so into some spiky swoops and styled it half-up into a messy bun to showcase the dye. It was soft, fun to look at, and the bottom portion was perfect for fiddling with at a time like this, which was exactly what December did.

“So? How are we feeling?”

“I—” she paused, smiling and letting out one last flustered breath, “I love it, actually.”

Vera’s smile at her answer could have lit up the whole town square. Nearby, Olric and Celine both nudged March from either side, and March…

Well.

At first, he felt sheepish, a little guilty that December was put under more social pressure — in a subtle way — to be “his.”

But, as much as this did put more of a target on her head for teasing, she liked it. Loved it, even.

Why did that make him proud? Why was he suddenly so hung up on her being showcased as “his,” all over some silly hair dye? Why was the whole idea of “burning” the local “snow angel” so rewarding to him?

He wondered, too, why did it really arouse him?

“—looks great!”

March was ripped from his thoughts by Olric loudly complimenting the woman in question. Despite still being rosy, December had a hard time containing her smile. She wasn’t sure if it was more nervousness about the concept, or happiness about the change in her appearance fueling it at this point, but the distinction made no difference to March, who basked in her curved lips and bright eyes and currently-present dimples and “toasted” hair like it was the last few things he’d ever have the pleasure to see.

“Y-yeah!” he agreed.

December and Celine were taken aback by his enthusiasm for a moment, but the farmer was glad nonetheless. She had no idea how he’d take this. At least it seemed like he was a fan.

“Well,” Olric started, “I should get a trim before someone else swoops in there. I’ll see you guys around!”

He gave the three villagers a fist bump each before parting. Just as that interaction closed, Celine was summoned by Dell, thus breaking off from the remaining pair with a wave.

“Sorry” was the first word out of December’s mouth once they were alone.

March furrowed his brows. “What?”

“I didn’t ask Vera to do this,” she clarified, once again playing with the newly colored ends of her hair, “I let her choose.”

March was quiet. From an outside perspective, he appeared pensive. December was unsure of what to make of it.

“I…” March could hardly contain himself at this point, and shook his head, “Fuck. I love it.” He practically growled his words. The farmer’s eyes widened, her stomach fluttering. “Come here,” he ordered, taking her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“My house.”

“Oh.” While they passed by the fountain, she asked, “Why?”

March mumbled under his breath, “Can’t do this shit anymore.”

Whoa. What?

December paled.

Wordless while she wondered what he meant by that, she feared that he was going to cut things off with her over some hair dye that he’d literally just complimented. That this was it, that her heart was about to be shattered by March before she could even call him her boyfriend, man, partner, whatever. That she’d have to go back to Vera and ask her to help her chop the dyed portions of her hair off, in turn saving her from thinking about the blacksmith every time she saw her own reflection.

In reality, he just really wanted to fuck her.

They still hadn’t had sex. They could have. They’d wanted to several times. They were very vocal about that fact, which led to some flirty, funny shenanigans in its own right. At this point, they were holding back purely out of spite for the people — mainly Juniper, of course — who insisted they’d already crossed that road. It was all for the bit.

So the farmer’s worries were quelled a short moment later, right as they stepped into the smithy. March practically slammed the door behind them, pinning December to it with his lips while he scooped her up by her thighs.

She was too stunned to question it, gladly squeezing March’s hips between her legs to better support herself and wrapping an arm around his neck, her other hand resting against his cheek.

March had his own question instead. “How are you feeling?”

Assuming that he wasn’t just trying to exchange pleasantries at a time like this, December answered with her health for the day in mind. She sighed against his lips, “Not great.” He stole another kiss before she asked, “Why?”

March answered her inquiry with another, pressing his forehead to hers, “How does that stuff work when it comes to sex?”

December’s eyes widened. “Hypothetically, or..?”

“No.” His answer was instant, his eyes now boring into hers. “No, I want to know for right now.”

The farmer’s body was burning up. Her eyes trailed down to his lips again while she opened her mouth, trying to form words that wouldn’t come out. Her excitement temporarily rendered her speechless, but quickly turned into anxiousness.

Ever since one of the first times December had taken care of herself after her accident, she’d been afraid for this time to come; to have to admit to someone that she would be, in plenty of people’s eyes, almost useless beyond this point in intimacy. Sure, she could walk and run and lift and pull and do whatever else she needed to from day to day, but those things could get hard, and sex would be no different. If anything, she knew it would be worse, given how foreign and strenuous the movements were.

How often did she really need to straddle or sit on something, while repeatedly squatting and/or bouncing?

The answer was never. Literally never.

And December knew how cruel people could be. How harshly women were judged overall — even in a society so sensitive towards gender equality, like Aldaria’s — never failed to transfer to their abilities in bed. If anything, the latter was several times worse, given how entitled so many people could feel with intimacy. The absolute last thing she needed was a harsh opinion to dampen her already low self-esteem when it came to this; and while she felt she was probably safe with March, she couldn’t know for sure how he would react until this very moment.

“U-um,” she hesitated, “I can’t really do much.”

Luckily, the redhead had no quarrels to make. He would still want to be with her even if sex wasn’t an option at all. March’s grip tightened on December’s thighs, and he leaned in as if to kiss her again, but faked her out.

Instead, he murmured, “So you’ll be my pillow princess then?”

She felt her soul leave her body as she breathed, shaky and quietly, “Holy shit.”

He smirked, proud of the effect he had on her. “Come on, December, focus,” March softly demanded when she didn’t answer his question.

Whatever was left of her corporal form was gone forever, she feared. She nodded almost desperately, her heart threatening to thump out of her chest. In turn, March had never felt cockier in his life, other than maybe whenever he received and bragged about his copious blacksmithing awards.

He prodded, “You’d want that?” After another nod, he searched for more explicit consent, “Say it.”

She was quiet for a moment before she complied.“I want it,” with her eyes plastered on March’s mouth, yearning for him to kiss her again.

He was having none of that. “Hey,” he leaned down slightly to catch her eyes. “Look at me while you say it.” His tone coated December in goosebumps. When she brought her gaze up to meet his, he doubled down, “Tell me you want it.”

This didn’t even feel real to her. “I want it.”

“Perfect.” He finally kissed her before lifting her away from the door, their lips barely parting as he carried her to his room.

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blues824 · 2 years ago

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Request: Hello again! Sorry to bug you but I seen The Remarried empreon your list I just couldn’t resist and wondered if I could request Navier, Heinrey, and Kosair x Layla! Reader (Genshin.) The reader is someone that is dedicated to their studies but sacrifices their precious sleep because of this. They also have a sleep deprived look to them but are still able to retain their beauty they also sleepwalk a lot but unconsciously do work and think they have been blessed by the stars when they wake up. (Bonus if you could include Sovieshu‘s reaction to Navier falling for the reader and slowly focusing all her attention on them instead of the fact that Sovieshu now has a concubine and maybe Rashta’s and Krista’s too for Heinrey.)

Glad to know you like it too! This is different from what I usually do, because most of these are romantic. Gender-neutral reader.

Preface: You are a scholar who specializes in Theoretical Astrology. You’re the Eastern Empire’s/Western Kingdom’s official astrologist, and along with capturing the character’s interest you also captured their heart.

Navier

She has been wondering why you had not visited her yet when one of her handmaidens had informed her that you had been caught in your studies. You were trying to gather information on one of the nobles that Navier grew suspicious of and it took a lot of time trying to get into his mind through the stars.

The handmaiden went on to say that you hadn’t truly slept in about 3 days. Your somnambulism had caused a few servants quite a fright because they thought you were the walking dead. Oh, you poor thing. You didn’t know when to quit, did you?

She, as silently as she could, made her way to your tower. You had been given your own space so that you wouldn’t be disturbed while you were studying, and when she made it there she saw you walking around. She went up to you and looked you in the eye just to see them closed.

Navier knew that this was a bit unorthodox of her, but she held you by the shoulders and gently led you back to your chambers. She looked around and saw how much of a mess it was. No wonder you were having such a hard time: you couldn’t find anything.

However, all of a sudden, you sprung back out of your bed. You looked around and started to clean up the huge mess. The Empress was shocked at how energetic you suddenly seemed. You seemed to be referring to yourself as ‘Daytime’ for some reason… she was just so confused (just as you were when you woke up to find your room clean and the work done).

By the way, Sovieshu is totally jealous of you because you managed to steal his wife’s attention and distract her from him having a mistress. Rashta seems upset because the attention is off of her and all on you.

Heinrey

He had asked you if it was a wise decision to visit the Eastern Empire when he was invited for Navier’s New Year’s Party. Unfortunately, that resulted in not seeing you for a while. Unfortunately, our lovely prince here got a bit touch-starved.

He asked around and found out that you had stayed up for 3 consecutive days. That certainly would not fly (get it?) past him. He rushed to your tower to see you for himself. Surely the servant that gave him the information was mistaken… right?

When he made it to the building, he saw how you were on the verge of falling asleep. He was about to lead you to your bed when you immediately sprung up and started rushing around the room. Heinrey watched as you just zoomed back and forth.

Eventually, you settled back down, but you weren’t done working. No, you gathered your papers, put them in order, and went to your balcony to look through your telescope. You were speaking a thousand miles a minute.

Heinrey held you by your shoulders and asked what was going on. You spouted on about “Daytime Y/N” and how they needed help. He was so freaking concerned. Does he need to call the royal physician to inspect you?

Lady Krista acts like she is friendly towards you, but she’s only doing it because she wants Heinrey to look at her in a positive light. She doesn’t truly care about whatever happens to you, as long as you don’t get too close to the Prince.

Kosair

He decided to surprise you. You both have been great friends (oh, how he wished you were more than just that) for a long time, but since he’s been traveling he hasn’t been able to see you at all. It was supposed to be a happy moment.

However, when he got Navier’s letter that you hadn’t slept in a while, he was concerned. Didn’t you know that wasn’t healthy, love? He wrote back saying that he would be there earlier than expected, and he set out immediately towards his younger sister’s palace.

He made it to your tower and saw that you were just walking around aimlessly. He ran up the stairs and intercepted you before you had a chance to fall down. He turned you around and pushed you back into your room.

Before he was able to push you into bed, you dodged his hands and ran around your room to tidy it up a bit. Then you grabbed a few papers that Kosair guessed you were working on before rushing out to the balcony with your telescope.

He went out with you, and you gasped upon looking at the stars. They never failed to amaze you, be it Daytime Y/N or Night-time Y/N. Kosair had to admit that this was why he fell head over heels for you. You never failed to make him just as excited about the great balls of gas in the night.

You handed him the telescope before jotting down some notes. You were muttering something about how this would help “Daytime Y/N” tremendously. Mans was so freaking concerned and confused, and you were too just a few hours later.

#remarried empress x reader #remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #the remarried empress #empress navier #navier trovi #navier x reader #navier #heinrey x reader #heinrey #kosair x reader #kosair trovi #kosair

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blackjackkent · 5 days ago

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OK, well, this all seems pretty definitive, so Rakha's not wasting any time. Straight back to camp to tell Aylin that we've found someone for her to punch.

(This all continues to contribute to Rakha's rather perplexed view of Aylin, tbh. She's already realized that Aylin is capable of the same level of mad violence that she herself is capable of, but that Aylin nevertheless still falls under the broad banner of 'good' compared to Bhaal and the beast's 'evil.' This is confusing. And it clarifies nothing that now her whole party (including Wyll) is eagerly queuing up to watch the aasimar reduce Lorroakan to a fine paste.)

"Mother's Milk! Your visage speaks of ill tidings. Speak, ally mine. What troubles you?"

TBH I think these days Rakha's visage always kind of speaks of ill tidings, but that's neither here nor there.

I've tended to assume that, despite the generally friendly nature of most of her dialogue, Aylin is still pretty skeptical of Rakha (and particularly of letting her anywhere near Isobel), especially now that the Bhaalspawn business is out in the open.

Rakha, for her part, still feels a deeply compelling urge to rip both of them into small pieces, so she takes care to stand a good twelve feet away during this conversation.

We have two different dialogue options here, and one of them I don't recall seeing before:

"I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's."

This actually strikes me as a conversation that might have happened at some earlier point, back in Rivington or maybe even on the road out of the SCL. This is very much a Rakha sort of question - very blunt and out of nowhere despite the potentially sensitive nature of the subject, just placing the question out there and leaving it up to her conversation partner whether they're willing to answer or not.

Unsurprisingly, Aylin is not into it:

"Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells."

Fair enough.

"A wizard called Lorroakan is looking for you."

"Is he indeed?" Aylin asks, raising an eyebrow. Isobel has wandered up and is also listening with interest to this new development. "Pray tell - what does he seek from Dame Aylin?"

(A/N: Upon closer inspection, this dialogue appears to be bugged. It checks for the presence of a variable called LOW_Lorroakan_State_PartyKnowsHisPlans which is supposed to indicate that the player knows about Lorroakan's soul cage and immortality goals, but I've done a search through all the parsed dialogue files and this variable never gets set anywhere; it's only ever checked for. And Rakha here is missing the dialogue option that it should enable. Since she does know about Lorroakan's plans, I am going to use my console powers and enable the flag manually, since it makes the conversation more interesting and Rakha has no reason not to be direct about what's going on.)

"He wants to cage you like Ketheric did," Rakha says flatly.

"The beast!" Isobel snaps, which definitely makes Rakha jump.

In contrast to her lover's fury, however, Aylin just laughs softly. "Oh, I hope he tries!" she crows. "Please, Lorroakan, come to me with your magicks and your flaccid charms. Attempt to lay one hairy finger upon Dame Aylin, daughter of Selune most high."

She leans forward, closing the careful distance between herself and Rakha. "I will wring his neck until he's dead," she growls.

Rakha shivers involuntarily. The mental image is delicious, enthralling; it feeds the murder urge in her mind. And again that flicker of confusion - why is this admirable in Aylin, when it is so detestable and terrifying in herself?

"Let's take him down," she whispers hoarsely. "Together."

Aylin's cold smile widens. "Ho!" she says. "His end will be one more strand in the great braid of our friendship."

(A/N: The game definitely doesn't account for the idea of Aylin not being on good terms with the player even with the Dark Urge context, which is a little annoying. For the purposes of Rakha's story, where they are both super wary of each other, this statement definitely comes along with a heavy helping of sardonic irony.)

"I'm coming with you," Isobel says eagerly. "I'd like to get a few licks in myself."

"My darling," Aylin says, turning towards her, "we agreed you'ds cout for the nearest Selunite enclave this very night. Let us divide our efforts, all the sooner to be reunited."

"I won't let you go alone," Isobel insists. "Who knows what that wizard might have planned?"

"Our closest ally will accompany me, won't you?" Aylin says, shooting a look at Rakha.

(A/N: This is low-key pretty funny at this point. 'Closest ally' my ass. Under the circumstances this reads like Aylin basically saying that Isobel doesn't get to go anywhere near Rakha in a combat bloodlust situation, which frankly Rakha agrees with wholeheartedly. Her animation here is a cheerful smile while Aylin is talking:

which is also very uncharacteristic and reads as tremendously forced ("yep, totally fine, nothing for you to worry about Isobel") in this context. XD )

Aylin waits for Isobel's grudging nod of agreement. Then she straightens up, her wide white wings unfurling, and leaps upwards into the air. "Hie we to this 'Lorroakan' right away," she cries as she moves. "I am as eager to meet him as he is to ensnare me."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #all praise to the script extender XD

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

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Hi I’m really enjoying your work and was wondering if you are taking requests? If so I do have an idea, it’s based on the song Love grows by Edison Lighthouse where the reader is Eddie’s younger sister but is a flower child/hippie instead of a metal head and Steve is falling in love with her even though they are way way different? I totally understand if your swamped with requests or if your not interested, but thank you for your time!!!

As soon as I read this request I knew I needed to enlist the help of @munson-blurbs because she is an expert on all things hippie and vegan because she is one and I love her so dearly. We collaborated on this together, but she ended up doing most of it, which I will forever be thankful and grateful for. So give Bug some love, because she deserves all of it! Also, I really fell in love with older protective brother Eddie

Words: 4.6k

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard also made by @munson-blurbs 💚

It’s a beautiful day, your first summer in Hawkins. Ever since you’d discovered that you had an older half-brother, the two of you had been getting to know each other. It was weird; sharing a bond by having the same dad, but never having met before in your twenty-two years of life. You’d been dreading moving back in with your mom after your college graduation, so when Eddie offered to let you stay with him for the summer, you’d gladly accepted. You’d even scored a sweet nannying gig for one of the families in the apartment building you’re living in as a way to make some cash before you start teaching full-time in the fall.

You’re watching the two kids run around on the playground at the nearby park. You’d incorrectly assumed that the girls would be completely worn out after your long day at the zoo yesterday, but they’re running around like little maniacs.

“Y/N!” Emily, the younger one, calls out to you. “Watch me on the monkey bars!” You grin and give her a thumbs-up while she swings back-and-forth, giggling wildly.

You feel a tug on your DIY cutoffs and look down to see Emily’s eight-year-old sister, Jessie, looking up at you expectantly. “I wanna play what he’s playing,” she reports, pointing to a young man, about your age, shooting hoops at the basketball court. Before you can stop her, she takes off running. Emily flings herself off of the monkey bars and chases after her sister.

“Girls! Wait!” you shout, but they beat you to the court. As you get closer, you see that the guy is shirtless, sweat dripping from his chest, and you feel yourself blush.

“Can we play with you?” Emily asks him, looking up through her big blue eyes.

You take her hand and are about to tell her that she can’t just run away from you like that when the guy crouches down to be on the same level as her.

“You like basketball?” he asks, a friendly smile crinkling the corner of his eyes as he looks at Emily.

“Is that backetball?” she asks, and both you and the handsome stranger smile at her pronunciation of the game.

“It is,” he says. “Do you want to try bouncing it?”

She eyes the ball hungrily, Jessie half hiding behind your leg as she watches the interaction. The man offers Emily the ball in one of his hands, but hers are so little that she needs both just to take it from him. She experimentally drops it and giggles in delight when it comes back up to her. Jessie, feeling slightly braver now that her sister has the ball, takes a few steps closer to inspect the fun.

The guy stands up and takes a step closer to you. Up this close, you can see the individual beads of sweat running down the muscles of his arms and his abdomen as they make their way to the waistband of his black basketball shorts. He’s beautiful, there’s no other word to describe him. You feel your heart start to race as if you had been the one who had been just shooting hoops.

“These cute little munchkins yours?”

It takes a moment for your brain to recognize he’s talking to you. You wipe your suddenly sweaty palms down the sides of your shirt, hoping the movement just looked like you were putting your hands on your hips.

“I’m their nanny,” you explain. “I’m sorry they interrupted your game, they just got away from me.”

The way he smiles at you makes your knees turn to jelly and you wish you had something to hold on to so you could steady yourself.

“It’s not a problem at all,” he tells you. He offers you his hand. “I’m Steve.”

“Y/n,” you answer as you shake his hand. His palm is warm against yours and you can’t help but notice how small your hand looks in his large grip. “Listen, you, um, you don’t have to play with them,” you tell Steve sheepishly.

He pushes his hair out of his eyes and laughs. “Nah, it’s all good! I used to play on the Hawkins High team, back in the day.” He turns to the girls excitedly. “You wanna learn how to make a three-pointer?”

You can’t help but giggle as they erupt into cheers, Steve giving them step-by-step instructions to dunk the ball in the hoop. You’d never been into jocks, but it looked like that was changing.

The girls laugh as they toss the ball back and forth with Steve while you take a seat on the side of the court to watch them. It looks like he’s given up trying to show them how to properly play and is now just being goofy and trying to make them laugh. It’s more endearing than you expect, and your cheeks start to get sore from smiling at them so much. Emily starts to run backwards but her coordination quickly proves to be not fully formed yet as she trips and falls on her behind. Her hands went out to catch her and from the whines you hear, you’re assuming she scraped them up. You stand up to go over to the little girl, but Steve is already there next to her, down on one knee.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Steve tells her. As you get closer you can see the fat tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Steve can too, and he says, “No need to cry. Just a little scratch, right? Here, let me see.”

He helps her get back on her feet and she holds both of her hands out for him to see. They’re scraped and scratched, but there’s no sign of blood.

“Aw, you’re fine,” Steve tells her with a smile. You shoot him a thankful look and he answers it with a wink that fuels the butterflies in your stomach.

Emily sniffles and nods her little head, her big eyes mirroring Steve’s own beautiful brown ones. There’s a tug on your cutoffs and you look down to see Jessie bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Wanna go back on the slide,” she tells you. Emily’s head perks up at the mention of the slide.

“Take your sister with you, okay?” you say as you pat Emily on the back. Jessie carefully takes her sister’s scraped hand in her own and the two of them run back towards the playground.

Steve stands up next to you and tucks his basketball under his arm.

“Thank you for being so kind to them,” you say.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he says with a shake of his head. Sweat is making pieces of his soft brown hair fall onto his forehead and it takes a large effort not to keep looking at it. “They’re sweet kids.”

“They are,” you agree. “I’m a lucky nanny. Although we do have to work on the whole ‘not asking strangers for basketball lessons’ thing.”

Steve laughs at your joke, and you can’t help but beam back at him. “Well, we don’t have to be strangers. Maybe I could take you out for dinner tonight? Say, around 6? There’s a really good steakhouse that just opened.”

Your stomach sours at the mention of his suggestion; you don’t want him to think that you’re rejecting him. “I’d love to go out with you,” you start timidly, biting at your lower lip, “but I’m vegan. Don’t eat meat or any kind of animal products, y’know?”

You anticipate him calling you high-maintenance or weird, or a scoff at the very least, but his eyes just soften. “That’s really cool, actually,” he says with a grin. “Like, you’re just out here saving all the animals.”

“Not all of them,” you reply shyly, casting your eyes at his shoes. “But I do my best.” You force yourself to look up at him, feeling yourself melt all over again. “I’d still really like that date, though.”

Steve nods. “I’ll figure out a vegan-friendly spot for us between then and now,” he promises. “Let me pick you up?”

“Sure! I live in Candlewood Towers, over on–”

“Oh, yeah! My friend lives in that building; I know exactly where it is,” he says excitedly. You’re about to ask him who his friend is; maybe you know them, but you’re interrupted by the sounds of Emily and Jessie fighting.

“Gotta go break up that WWE match,” you tell him apologetically. “But I’ll see you tonight at 6?”

“It’s a date!” There’s that perfect smile again. If the safety of two adorable children didn’t rest in your hands, you’d stare at it forever.

You love your job, you really do. But it seems like each hour moves at half speed when the girls act up. Especially if you’re looking forward to a date with an attractive basketball player who is good with kids. It’s like Emily and Jessie sense when they’re starting to get on your nerves and always push it a little farther to see how far you’ll go until you break.

“Jessie Anne!”

She knows she’s in trouble from the use of her middle name, and she tries to hide behind the couch. When you start to count down from five, she scrambles out from her hiding place and comes to stand in front of you, eyes down on her feet and fingers fidgeting.

“Emily started it,” she mumbles.

You hold up your hand, not wanting to hear anymore.

“Ha ha!” Emily calls from down the hallway.

“Emily Marie, so help me God! Do you two ever want to go to the park again? Hmm?”

Before either of them can squeak out a reply, the front door opens, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You can tell from Jessie’s tensing up that she knows punishment will be a lot worse from mom than it is from the nanny.

“Hi, girls,” their mother says as she walks in the door. She catches the guilty look on her daughter’s face and sighs. “You’d better have been on your best behavior.”

The two of them glance up at you shyly, and you don’t have the heart to tell their mom the extent of their argument. “Just a little sibling rivalry, but they’re working it out,” you report, and you watch the girls breathe silent sighs of relief.

Their mom eyes you suspiciously, but she doesn’t have the energy to discipline them further, so she drops the matter and hands you your check for the week. “See you Monday,” she dismisses you, and you wave back at the girls when they stand at the glass door and say their good-byes.

You normally try to be considerate of your shower time, considering Eddie’s the one who pays the water bill, but it’s your first date here in your new town. You lather the shampoo and conditioner into your wild hair, knowing it'll be all but useless once the humidity hits it. At the risk of seeming too overeager, you carefully shave your legs, reasoning that it’s summer and you’d be shaving them anyway. But you know the truth.

Wrapping a scratchy green towel around your body, faded from years of use (and that time your brother spilled bleach on it), you quickly exit the warmth of the steamy bathroom. You have to pad across the living room to get to your bedroom, and the chill of the air conditioning always hits you like a slap.

“Bathroom’s free, Eds–Steve?!” You clutch the towel to your torso. Eddie’s throwing himself in front of you, blocking your barely-covered body. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve cover his face.

“Y/N…I’m not looking, but I gotta ask–why are you showering at Eddie Munson’s apartment?” The confusion is evident in his tone, and you realize the conclusion he’s jumped to.

“Dude, that’s my sister!” Eddie answers for you, ushering you into your room. “How do you even know–oh, shit. Is the cute girl from the park my little sister?!?”

Your cheeks warm at the idea that Steve’s been talking about you and referring to you in such an endearing manner. It’s so sweet that you nearly forget that he just saw you half-naked–but not completely.

“What are you doing here? It’s only 5:00,” you call out from behind your door. He wasn’t supposed to pick you up for another hour.

Steve hesitates to answer, so Eddie sneakily jumps in.

“Loverboy here wanted some advice on impressing the gorgeous hippie girl he met today,” he teases, though you’re unsure whether or not you or Steve is the butt of the joke. Maybe it’s both of you.

“Shut up!” Steve hisses through gritted teeth, and you hear a pillow smack into Eddie.

Your brother is persistent, intent on torturing the poor guy. “Oh, Eddie,” he mocks in a high-pitched voice, “she has the prettiest eyes and the nicest smile; I just wanna take her on the best date ever!”

“I do not sound like that,” Steve mumbles his retort.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Stevie,” Eddie says, “you should’ve heard what she said about the hot guy playing basketball who–”

“Eddie, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I will tell every woman in Hawkins that you have a micropenis!” you threaten. “And the guys, too, just to cover all bases!”

Thankfully, that quiets him. You slide on a pair of denim cut-offs and a light pink babydoll top. You run a comb through your towel-dried hair and spray some hairspray in a feeble attempt to tame it. After a few swipes of mascara, a touch of lipstick, and a couple of spritzes of your favorite flowery perfume, you consider yourself ready to go. You look in the mirror and take a deep breath, your heart still beating wildly at the shock of seeing Steve standing in your living room when you were fresh out of the shower. There’s still a slight flush to your face, but it looks cute. Like a natural blush.

As soon as you open your bedroom door you hear the two of them bickering, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry I don’t keep you updated on what my relatives look like, Steve.” The sarcasm dripping from his voice is thick enough to cut with a knife. “But what about you, Stevie? Do you have any cousins or long-lost relatives that are hot as shit and you’re holding out on me?”

“Jesus Christ, Munson, it was just a question!”

“Are we ready?” you ask as you step into the room. Both guys shut up and turn their heads to look at you. You shoot Steve a pleading look as you grab your bag and head towards the front door.

“Be home by eleven,” Eddie says.

“I’m an adult,” you remind him.

“Um, don’t leave your drink unattended.”

“Dude,” Steve says, raising his eyebrows at his friend.

“Well, then…use protection!”

“Eddie!” Your face turns as red as a tomato, and you hurry out of the apartment before Eddie somehow makes it worse.

“Listen, I missed over twenty years of brothering,” you hear him call after you. “I’ve got some making up to do!”

Steve closes the door behind the two of you and you shake your head, hiding your face in your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you say when you finally lift your head.

“Hey,” Steve says with a chuckle. “Maybe I should be saying that. I think I’ve known Munson longer than you have.”

“Technically, I’m ‘Munson’ as well, you know,” you say as the pair of you walk down the flight of stairs at the end of your hall.

“That’s so weird,” Steve says with a laugh. “Not like I think you’re weird! I just meant that, you know, there being another Munson around.”

“Steve, I knew what you meant.” You assure him with a smile and gentle hand on his arm. He takes instant note of how soft the skin of your hand is against him, and you find yourself wilting when you have to let go to get in the car. “Honestly, having a sibling is still kinda strange to me. I only found out about Eddie last year.” You shake your head, as if clearing the thoughts from your brain like an Etch-a-Sketch. “Enough about my brother. Tell me about you.”

Steve talks about how he started off as a cashier at the local Family Video, eventually working himself up the ranks until he was managing the branch. “I like being in the store, making sure everything’s running smoothly,” he explains. “Corporate’s not really my scene.”

You nod in agreement. “I bet your employees love you.”

He laughs. “Right now, my employees are the kids I used to babysit, back in the day,” he says, although back in the day was only about six years ago. “They’re home from college for the break, so I hooked them all up with summer gigs.” He clears his throat, briefly diverting his gaze from the road to your face. “What about you? How’d you get into the nannying scene?”

You giggle at his phrasing. “Just something I’m doing till I start my full-time teaching job in September,” you tell him, proudly adding, “I’ll be Hawkins Elementary’s newest first grade teacher.”

Steve’s face lights up at your achievement. “Well, if you’re anything like you are with the girls, your students will adore you.”

Blushing at his compliment, you quickly change the subject before he can notice your rosy cheeks. “So, where exactly are you taking me?” you ask.

“Oh, shit, right!” He bites his lower lip. “Honestly, I had no idea where to find a good vegan restaurant around here, so I decided on a picnic. I hope that’s all right?”

You take note of the picnic basket resting on the backseat floor. “You went to all that effort for a first date?”

“Gotta make a good impression, right?” He pulls into a spot near the picnic area of the park and kills the engine. He hops out of his seat, jogging to the other side of the car to open your door for you.

“So chivalrous,” you tease him lightly, and his cheeks tinge pink. When he takes your hand to help you out of your seat, he doesn’t let go; instead, he laces his fingers with yours. You open the back door so he can grab the picnic basket.

“There’s a blanket in the trunk we can sit on,” Steve says. You reach in and pull out a light yellow blanket, and you can’t help but smile.

“Yellow’s my favorite color,” you tell him happily, tucking it under your arm. “You’re already off to a great start.” The two of you walk hand-in-hand to a grassy area, setting up your picnic in the sun.

Steve unpacks the basket as you splay out on the blanket. “Is PB&J okay?” he questions nervously, breathing a small sigh of relief when you tell him you could never turn down peanut butter.

“Cool,” he continues, taking out some trail mix, clementines, and juice boxes of lemonade. “Oh, and the grand finale!” He dramatically presents a box of vegan chocolate chip cookies. “I found them at the health food store; dunno how good they taste, though.”

“There’s only one way to find out!” You open the box, fish out a cookie, and break it in half. “To new beginnings,” you offer, nudging his half with your own in a quasi-toast.

“These are pretty good,” you tell him while munching on the treat. “One day, I’ll have to bake some for you. Eddie says they’re the best cookies he’s ever had, and you know that man doesn’t mess around with food.”

Steve gives a hearty laugh, having been on the receiving end of Eddie’s food-induced wrath more than once. “I would really, really like that,” he says. You feel yourself blush, and you place your hand atop his, squeezing it gently.

You and Steve polish off the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and split the trail mix, swapping childhood stories. There’s something so comforting about his presence, and you find yourself opening up about being raised by a single mom–and the term raised is generous, considering she was busy jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend instead of taking care of you. Steve tells you about his upbringing: how he always felt his parents had a kid because it was “just something married people do,” like they were ticking off a box on a checklist. They spent all their time working, and when they weren’t, they were berating him for not working hard enough. “Even now,” he tells you, gazing into your eyes, “I manage Family Video, but my dad’s still on my ass about doing that corporate shit.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “You have to do what you like, Steve,” you say softly. “It’s your life, and you can’t spend it being miserable.”

He hesitates before leaning over, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Has anyone told you that you’re, like, the sweetest person ever?” You can’t manage a response; every cell in your body is humming at the fact that this incredibly charming, funny, handsome man likes you.

“Have you been to any of Eddie’s concerts yet?” Steve asks after a few moments, nibbling on another cookie.

“Yeah, a few,” you answer, wrinkling your nose in a way Steve finds absolutely adorable. “They’re very, uh, loud.”

“Mhm,” he agrees. “Not really your scene?”

“Not at all,” you laugh, “but I like supporting him, y’know?”

He takes a sip of lemonade and nods. “So, who’s your favorite music artist?”

You gasp in mock offense. “That’s like asking someone to choose their favorite child!” you tease. “Obviously, The Beatles are incredible, but I also love Jefferson Airplane, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan…”

“Damn, you really are a hippie chick!” Steve says with a grin. “Bet you would’ve gone to Woodstock if you were, y’know, born.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have been there,” you agree, sighing forlornly at the idea. “For now, I’ll just have to settle for the movie.”

“I’ll make sure Family Video has it in stock,” he promises, beaming at you.

Steve drives you back to the apartment; you both keep stealing glances and giggling at each other throughout the ride. He pulls up to your building and walks you to your door.

“Thank you for the amazing picnic, Steve.” You’re suddenly shy, unable to meet his eyes. “Maybe we can do this again sometime?”

“I mean, you said you were gonna bake me cookies, so I’m definitely holding you to it.” He tilts your chin up with his forefinger, bringing his plush lips to yours. It’s sweet and soft; you find yourself pressing on your tiptoes and putting your hand on his bicep, deepening the kiss.

“That’s enough!” a voice booms from the third floor. You look up to see Eddie scowling down at you both from the open window, arms crossed over his chest.

“Wanna mess with him?” you whisper to Steve, who nods enthusiastically. You turn to see your brother and give him a shit-eating grin. “Hey, big bro,” you start, “can Steve and I have the apartment for a little while? His car wasn’t roomy enough to try the positions I normally like.” Steve’s cheeks puff out as he tries to stifle a laugh, and Eddie’s face turns bright red.

“Wha–what?” Eddie sputters, and you and Steve can’t contain yourselves any longer, cackling loudly.

“I’m kidding!” you reassure him, adding cheekily, “the car had plenty of room.”

“Steve Harrington, if you touched my sister, I swear!”

Two months later, in early September, there’s a small crowd of people in your apartment for Steve’s birthday celebration. Eddie’s there; he’s gotten more comfortable with your relationship with Steve, save for the times he’s spotted you kissing and made exaggerated retching noises. Nancy and Robin are drinking spiked punch, catching up and chatting about work. Dustin, who came home from college just for the party, is chewing Steve and Eddie’s ears off about his campus’s DnD club. He’s already reassured your brother–twice–that the Dungeon Master is nowhere as cool as he is. Max is helping you put candles in the birthday cake, telling you about a protest she attended at Hawkins Community College.

“I never knew how fucked up the wage gap is,” she’s saying, waving her hands passionately. “I mean, forget about between men and women; have you seen the stats on how much less Black women make compared to white? And it’s even happening at HCC!”

“You should let me know when the next protest is.” You press the last candle into the cake and turn to her. “I’d love to go with you!”

Max nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, that would be awesome!” She grins, cocking her head. “I can’t believe Steve ended up with someone who actually cares about something other than this season’s nail polish color.”

“Can someone bring out the cake before Henderson tells us another story about his amazing new DM?” Eddie laments, rolling his eyes.

“I told you,” huffs Dustin, clearly irritated by Eddie’s whining, “you’re still the best DM I’ve ever known.” Maybe the third time’s the charm?

“We’re coming,” you call out from the kitchen, grabbing a lighter from the top drawer and flicking on the flame. Everyone bursts out into an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday,” with Steve using his fingers to mimic a conductor. Eddie rolls his eyes at the cheesy behavior and slings his arm over Nancy’s shoulders. You place the cake in front of Steve and kiss his cheek.

“Happy birthday, Stevie,” you whisper in his ear while the rest of the group sings. He loops his hand around against your cheek, smushing your face to his.

Robin cuts the cake, and Steve devours his slice. “Babe, is this really vegan?” he asks incredulously. “It’s so good!”

There’s a splotch of chocolate frosting on his nose, and you lick it off with a giggle. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” I love you, he wants to say, but the first time he tells you will not be in front of his crazy friends. “I’m gonna grab another piece.” He cuts himself a huge hunk, spearing it with his fork and offering you the first bite, which you gladly accept.

You’re cleaning up later, wiping down the table and washing dishes. There’s no leftover cake to be put away; to your delight, it had been finished by the end of the party. Steve snakes his hands around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder as you scrub a plate.

“Did I thank you for the best birthday ever?” he asks with a smile, peppering kisses on your cheek.

“Only a hundred times,” you tease him, “but I don’t mind hearing it for the hundred and first.”

“I mean, what else could I ask for?” he continues, “delicious cake, my best friends, the girl I love…” Oh. He didn’t think that this would be how he told you, but he couldn’t take it back now.

You shut off the water and dry your hands. “The girl you love? Is that…”

“It’s you,” Steve says reassuringly. “I love you, Y/N. Like, I’m in love with you. I can’t even explain how happy you make me.”

You put your arms on his shoulders, laying your fingers on the nape of his neck. “I love you, too, Stevie,” you murmur, kissing him softly. “I’m so lucky that you’re mine.”

He deepens the kiss, moving his arms to the small of your back. You’re about to suggest moving this to the bedroom when Steve breaks the kiss suddenly and a wadded-up napkin hits the floor.

“Ow, what the hell?” he mutters, spinning around to see a disgruntled Eddie.

“No feeling up my sister in my house!”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #request

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bbimharuuu · 2 years ago

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hi, i read the recent one about the reader dreaming and i ended up getting it in my head what it would be like if one of the htd family members came with the reader when he disappeared

Short answer, chaos would ensue 😭

But it depends on WHO actually came back with the reader.

Helaena would be confused and scared at first, but when she noticed it was actually your world; oh she'll be very happy. Hugging you and jumping around to certain things she finds interesting. She'll eventually ask you about the bugs on your world so you decided to gift her something. You told her to stay inside, not wanting her to be overwhelmed by the outside world. You decided to buy her an ant farm, since it's cheap and easy to take care off. She'll be fascinated as you tell her what to do to take care of it. Maybe you'll even give her some needles and yarn for her to crochet the next time she'll come along with you.

Baela and Rhaena would probably be fascinated with everything in your room. Asking about the small trinkets here and there, maybe asking whoever it is on your wall (pictures, posters). They'll be harmless yet intrigued by everything so you show them your house or apartment for a little bit and show them your clothes. Maybe even giving a few to them if you don't use it anymore. Maybe a jacket or a scarf, whatever you gave them they'll be holding onto it like a treasure.

Rhaenys will be shocked when she sees that she came back to your world. You'll be glad that it's her so you proposed for her to have some tea while you think about a plan. She'll agree, looking around the state of your home is in. Maybe ask a few questions about things that are not familiar in her eyes. She'll talk to you about things back in her world and she'll probably ask you to explain certain things in your world, wanting to see the difference. You'll probably gave her a few hair accessories that were gifted to you that you never liked, explaining to her what it is before putting it on her hair. She'll probably wear it on special occasions or all the time if she wants to show off to others.

Jace and Luke would be hesitant at what they're seeing, thinking it was just a dream. When you showed up they'll be relieved and happy, finally entering your world and seeing how you live. You'll be embarrassed at how messy it was, but Jace and Luke would brush it off and say that it's fine. Luke would tease you and Jace would think it's cute. You'll notice how Luke paused at the sight of your old toys, asking you what it is. You explained that it's old toys, something you played when you're younger. But they'll be interested when Jace saw a toy dragon hidden in the box. Soon they'll be rummaging through the box, awing at the complexity at some of the toys. You offered them to take one if they're interested. Jace would say no, telling you it's for kids; but you know he wanted one. Luke would agree instantly and grabbing a miniature dragon while he grabbed a stuffed one for Joffrey. You decided to slip a small Charizard toy to his hand, holding your laughter as he inspected the toy with confused stares.

Viserys, Otto and Corlys would be the ones who are very confused at first, wanting to know why they came back with you. When you don't have any answers, they'll slowly accept the fact that they're here with you so it's not that bad. Viserys will interested on the small Eiffel Tower you had as a decoration, so you gave that to him as you explained the history and significance. Otto would be interested on the wrist watch you rarely wear, so you just gave it when Otto said it has an interesting design. Corlys would be interested on how large your world is, so you gave him a map of the world you had for an assignment. He'll be interested and intrigued as he ask questions about certain countries.

Rhaenyra and Daemon would be happy to be in your world, not caring how or when they'll come back to Kings Landing. They'll savour the time with you if they never got the chance again. Rhaenyra would compliment at how lovely your home is while Daemon would scoff and say that you're not worthy with a space small like this. She'll notice small bottles along your vanity, asking you if it's the perfume you're using. You decided to give each of them perfumes, and the one you usually use after some begging from Rhaenyra. They'll be happy that you chose a scent that they'll liked, probably only using it for special occasions. They'll probably store your perfume away to keep it save.

Alicent will be shocked to say the least that she tagged along with you, but she kept her composure as she didn't want to look outright panicked. She'll believe that it's a blessing for her to be chosen to come back with you. She'll tut at the messy state in your room and ask for permission to clean it up a little (which you agree because free help). She'll ask here and there about certain things but she'll be interested in your jewelry box. You gave her a pair of earrings and a bracelet that has hints of green in it. It would honestly make Alicent very happy and she'll definitely wear it all the time back in her world.

Aegon would be confused but it changed into excitement when he noticed he's actually in your world. He'll constantly ask you questions that you can't keep up to answering him. His mind will be blown when he looks through the magazines you have, already shocked that your world is far more suited for him because of...certain things. You'll probably be weirded out by him staring at certain pages of the magazine with models in it so you gave it to him. You don't really read them all that much, you just placed it there as decorations. Definitely will take some of your underwear, secretly opening your drawers and picking the ones he liked the most before hiding them. He has to have some item that holds big significance of you because he's a lil perv 👀

Aemond would be disoriented and tense as he looks around, only to find you here with him. He'll probably not believe that he's in your world, but after seeing so many strange trinkets and items then he'll believe. He would be quiet as he analyzed every thing that you have in your home, quietly asking what the purpose of certain items. 100% will be interested on your book collection, wanting to know what you read when you're not with them. Most of it are fiction but you gave him some of the classics like Pride and Prejudice or The Tale of Two Cities. Or maybe he'll be interested on books with history of your world so you gave him the more tamer ones (you don't want to give him books containing horrible wars because you're afraid he'll act out on it). Both of you will read quietly together, maybe with tea or hot chocolate. Overall very warm and calm atmosphere.

#hotd #house of the dragon #yandere concept #you ask you shall receive

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