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happyandticklish · 6 months ago

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Sore Loser

Notes: Commission for @ultimatelee19 Thank you so much for commissioning! It’s been a while since I’ve spent any time in the Legend of Korra fandom, so it was fun to get to revisit it for this piece. I hope you enjoy ^^

Summary: After several losses in the Pro-Bending Arena, Bolin is anxious to prove his worth amongst their group. Meanwhile, Korra shows him the hard way that sometimes it’s okay to lose.

“You know you’re gonna lose, right?”

The field was clear save the two of them. They had snuck out hours before Mako had even had a chance to wake up for their usual training, and the hint of pink in the sky was the only indicator that it was morning at all. There was something nice about being out this early, the only creatures awake as the rest of the world slumbered. It was a peaceful feeling. Korra, however, was never very good at accustoming herself to times of peace.

Perhaps this is why she had been so easily persuaded by Bolin to come and spar before their next competition in the Pro-Bending Arena, even if she felt a bit uneasy about it. He hadn’t said anything, but she could tell he was nervous about their upcoming competition. Their last few fights hadn’t gone very well for them, but he especially had been off his game. Nothing to worry about, really, but it could be if he got in his head about it. Most likely, this was just an excuse to get a win under his belt in order to ease his nerves. Not that he would ever admit it—hence the attitude.

Korra raised an eyebrow at him, adjusting her stance. “Is that so? Well then, I look forward to my swift defeat, since you’re so cocky. It’s a risky move, going up against the Avatar alone.”

Bolin scoffed, but his fists clenched by his sides. “Please. ‘The Avatar’. You’re also reckless and undisciplined.”

“Undisciplined? As opposed to you?”

“Obviously.” A grin made its way to his features and she relaxed a little at the easy banter. “I’ve worked myself to the bone for years on training.”

“So have I.”

“In general, maybe,” he conceded. “A typical jack of all trades, whereas I am a master of earthbending. Which is why for tonight, I challenge you, oh great Avatar—a battle, earthbending style! If you use any other elements, you’re disqualified.”

Korra considered the proposition for a moment. An easy handicap, even still. She knew it might be better for Bolin’s ego if she lost, but Korra had never historically been a great loser. If he wanted a challenge, he was going to get one.

She smirked, trying not to enjoy how her words made the cocky expression on Bolin’s face waver. “Alright. You’re on. Just try not to be too disappointed when you lose.”

“I could say the same to you.” The ground under them rumbled, and Korra yelped as she just barely jumped back in time to avoid a cluster of rocks that had nearly toppled her from underneath. “Careful.”

Korra laughed, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “Oh, you’re in for it now.”

With that, the battle was on. For a while, Korra tried to play the long game and keep her attacks careful and coordinated, opting more for defense than anything else. Bolin, on the other hand, lashed out with a determination that was only serving to make him sloppy. His lunges were too quick, his strikes too sudden, and his words were tinged with frustration as he attempted to keep up the same arrogant banter as before. Heneeded to just relax if he was going to get a hit in, let alone win.

Bolin ducked forward suddenly with a fist that was evaded as she grabbed onto his arm. He struggled against her fruitlessly for a moment and her eyes widened with an idea as a smirk slowly took over her features.

Bingo.

“You know, maybe it’s time to get a bit more up close and personal,” she said, gripping his arm and using his own weight to flip him down to the ground. He grunted as his back hit the earth and she threw a leg over him in his distraction, one of his arms still captured in hers. “Take a more offensive stance, perhaps?”

“What are you talking about—gah! K-Korra!”

Bolin’s words were cut off by a strangled yelp as Korra’s fingers skittered over his stomach, poking and prodding occasionally to great effect. Bolin’s face, already red from exhaustion, pinkened as his features scrunched up in defiance. Tickling. Perhaps cheating in an official fight, but for now it came with the side benefit of always working to relax Bolin. After all, if she could knock him out of his weird mood and win the fight all in one, where was the harm there?

Bolin was squirming underneath her, giggling up a storm as she managed to slip a hand under his shirt to get at bare skin. “N-Naha knock it off! This is cheheheating!”

“I fail to remember you ever specifically banning tickling as an option.” Korra vibrated her hands into his ribs and Bolin shrieked, lurching out of her grip suddenly and scrambling to get away. She clucked her tongue, dusting off her hands as she stood up. “Bad move, my friend. I’m afraid you’re still wide open.”

She ran after him, throwing herself at his back in an unskilled but effective attack. The momentum carried them both forward, and they tumbled to the ground in a clumsy roll. Before Bolin could gather his bearings, she pulled her fist up, forming a rock foundation around him that effectively covered and pinned him to the ground. The rock formed makeshift stocks for his feet, and his hands were encased in stone raised far above his head. Bolin struggled fruitlessly against the bonds, but with his hands trapped, there was no way out. Korra strolled over, stretching her arms above her head before taking a seat by his feet.

“You have been awfully strung out all week now. I think it’s a high time that you take a moment to sit back and actually relax. And—” she held his toes back, scribbling her fingers over his bare arch. “If you’re not gonna do that on your own, then I’ll take it on myself to help you out.”

Bolin threw his head back in wild laughter, his other foot dancing around wildly in the stead of his trapped one. “W-Wait Korrahaha! I’m fine, j-just—shit, n-not tihihickling!”

“Yes tickling,” she said, digging her fingers under his toes to a torrent of frantic giggles. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing to yourself all week.”

“What—not the other fohohohoot!!”

“You lose a couple of fights and get all in your head about it,” Korra continued, ignoring his protests. Her fingers spidered over his arches, pausing occasionally to scritch under his toes in a manner that she knew from experience made him go crazy. “That’s not the Bolin I know. No, the Bolin I know would use those losses as encouragement to do better—to train, not whatever pity party this is.”

The corners of Bolin’s mouth made an attempt to turn down in indignation, but the tickling was quickly sapping all of the venom and frustration out of him. He shrieked when she moved up to his thighs suddenly. His clothing got in the way a tad, but she was able to pinch up and down the area in a manner that seemed just as effective, if not more so, than if his skin had been bare. “And challenging me to dumb fights at some crazy hour of the morning before a competition is not ‘training’. You need rest. You need diligence. You need to stop beating yourself up about this.”

Bolin shook his head back and forth, his legs jerking against the stone. Out of curiosity, she tried scribbling her fingers over his inner thighs and the sound he let out at that seemed to indicate that the strategy was worth continuing. “It tihihickles though!”

“Mm, and I know how much you hate tickling.” Korra raised a brow and Bolin’s cheeks flushed red. It wasn’t something that he advertised, per se, but it wasn’t hard for anyone who witnessed these moments to tell that he was enjoying himself. “Listen, man, we’ve all had bad days. You think I got where I am by winning every fight I’m in or always nailing new skills first try? You think Mako did? You practice. You study. And you don’t let one defeat get in your head.”

He shrieked when she moved her hands up under his arms suddenly, tugging desperately at his hands. “Okahahay okahahay I get it! Just p-please gihive me a breheheak!”

Korra considered it for a moment, continuing to trace idle circles under his arms as she did, much to Bolin’s chagrin. “Okay, I’ll consider it. Considering…”

Bolin whimpered underneath her, his face scrunched up in an intense expression of concentration. As his skin was still protected by his clothing, the tickling wasn’t as intense as it could be. She glanced down, however, to notice that his shirt had ridden up in the tussle, revealing a sliver of his stomach—historically, his worst spot. Perhaps it was time to really show Bolin exactly what happens to teammates who underestimate themselves.

She placed her hands on his stomach, sliding them slowly under his shirt as she did. She bit back a grin when Bolin visibly jumped. “Here’s the deal. We have about a half hour till Mako wakes up and starts to wonder where we are. Either you admit that you’re a good fighter and that it’s okay to make mistakes, or I tickle your stomach until he finds us—your choice.”

With that, she descended into a frenzy of scribbling and poking fingers all over his stomach that left Bolin a wheezing mess under her. He arched his body back against his bonds, but there was no escaping rock. He probably could have used his bending to get out, but bending required a certain focus that tickling left no room for.

In the end, Bolin held out for another five or ten minutes until Korra discovered that his naval was a hotspot of nerves that broke down his pride in a matter of seconds. And while Bolin complained and muttered indignantly while he caught his breath when she finally set him loose, the happy flush to his cheeks revealed the truth of how much he had needed to be able to let go.

Next time, Korra just hoped he asked instead of making her endure the horror of being awake at four in the morning.

#tickle fic #legend of korra #commission #korra #bolin #tlok #atla #avatar the last airbender #commissions

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clumsiestgiantess · 4 months ago

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The Walls Won’t Be There Forever, part 2 (Similarly to the first part, this story deals with the pet trope and has some themes of dehumanization — however condemning of them as the story itself may be. So if things of that nature trigger you, please DO NOT read!) If they don’t, and you’re prepared for angst, then welcome to part 2! It’s been a while, but I hope you still enjoy!

It’s been five months since I escaped. To my thankful surprise, the terrifying little human hadn’t sounded the alarm the moment she couldn’t find me. My guess is that she didn’t want to get in trouble for losing me. Ironically, her older sister also lost her ‘pet’ too, just a few days ago. I was thrilled to have someone else to talk to, and heartened that I could be there to help them transition out of pethood. I wish I had someone who could've helped me with that. Through tedious trial and error, I figured out what areas of the house to avoid. It took me months to build up a decent living space for myself, far from any wall traps.

However, when I traveled up to the older sister’s room to welcome the newcomer, they were nowhere to be found. I searched the whole day, quietly calling out to them. I knew they would be scared, but I didn’t think they’d be so scared they’d avoid their own kind. Later, I checked the traps to see if they’d fallen into one. Still nothing. What if they ran all the way outside, searching for another house entirely? I’d thought of doing that myself, but it was too cold outside to get very far. If they had gone outside, they were a lost cause.

Another, more sinister option sprung into my mind days after searching for the missing person. The older sister human had seemed almost averse to having a pet. What if she got rid of them and claimed she lost them? This notion got me thinking. It had seemed as though they’d disappeared rather than escaped.

I felt awful for my fellow ‘pet’. Humans release creatures back into nature, even if they might not belong there. I couldn’t help but imagine someone like myself, who’s never been so much as a few steps outside a house, suddenly cast into the vast wilderness that even humans couldn’t tame. That was probably the worst case scenario. Even being straight up murdered would be better than slowly freezing to death outside, or eaten alive by some giant creature. There’s a good reason we live in human houses. It was disheartening finding no one to welcome, but I’m used to bad news by now.

After avoiding the upstairs and its residents for another few weeks, I was forced to sneak into the older sister’s room. For some reason, the humans moved the sewing box from its usual spot in the closet to beneath her desk. This was just more bad news. I like to go on supply runs in empty, dark places where humans have no chance to catch me. I never actually stole from humans before all this, so the only times I ever feel at ease enough to go out are when the room is desolate.

My father did all that dangerous stuff when I was younger. I stayed in the walls, cooking and cleaning and practicing medicine. Having to hide from humans is a new concept for me; I’ve always been hidden from them, which made it all the more shocking to have one so close. Especially my awful ‘owner’.

At first she treated me carelessly, like a doll. In the first few days alone I’d been more bruised than I ever had in my life. I couldn’t even ask her for the proper things I needed to heal them. I couldn’t even speak in Aubrey’s presence, which is awful because I was in her room. She was always there.

Fortunately, she handled me with a fraction more care after she’d nearly taken off my arm. It was so much more terrifying than even being caught. I always tried not to struggle against her, but she just kept trying to stuff me into a toy car that obviously wouldn’t fit me. Her grip was so rough I really thought I would be crushed — snapped apart and broken up to fit inside a tiny claustrophobic space. I’d panicked — I’d struggled — my flailing arm was snapped out of the socket caught on a piece of cheap plastic, slicing it wide open.

I remember screaming only briefly before I was silenced by a cloth held painfully tight against my face, and orders to be quiet. My screams came to a choked halt, but I don’t think I stopped crying the entire day. I never liked my human captor; after that day I decided to hate her.

Thankfully, after Aubrey realized she couldn’t get me out, she at least told her sister. Her sister… I was so sure she’d actually kill me getting me out. Her fingers were so much stronger than her younger sister’s — I could feel the bone-crushing tension in them as she cut me out of that awful thing. She tortured me with rudimentary ways to heal my wounds in the least amount possible, leaving a long scar across my arm that I still have to this day. I can’t even think about her cruelty now, but back then I was actually thankful for something like that. Her sister would’ve left me stranded.

There was a single good thing that came out of that ordeal, however. Aubrey had been so upset by the thought that I could actually die if I was mishandled — something I could’ve told her day one — that she refused to handle me for very long afterwards. That didn’t stop her from accidentally harming me again and again during the times she did handle me, though. One day, she accidentally left the top off my cage after bringing me some food, and I made a quick escape.

It was almost too much for me to handle. I lay in a dust-covered corner of the walls just past my threshold to freedom — the wall outlet — curled up into a tight protective ball for hours. My nerves and brain were so overwhelmed by fear that I couldn’t even cry. I just lay there and shook, staring at the interior of a wall as tears quietly leaked out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

Almost a full day later, I finally got up and stumbled through the labyrinth of wall corridors and traps to find some food and water. Thankfully, the traps I’d encountered weren’t any of the deadly varieties. If I’d stumbled across those I might not have lived long enough to figure out how to avoid them.

Eventually, through a lot of outings in the dead of night, I slowly built up a little place for myself deep within the human family’s walls. I wanted to get far far away from the torturous monsters who had bought and hurt me, but it was too risky to take that kind of trip with the humans on alert after my escape. The hidden code didn’t have anything about what to do after escaping a human. It was assumed that if a human caught you there was no need for escape — you were dead.

I postponed my journey out of the house for a fair amount of time since I was uncertain about any sort of procedure for escape. However, the longer I waited, the better I’d built my house until eventually I decided to stay. None of the humans even seemed to notice my disappearance; even Aubrey acted like nothing was wrong — stuffing little pillows beneath my bed to make it look like I was sleeping, and covering my old cage with a light blanket so no one could look in too closely for too long to tell I wasn’t there.

Now, five months later here I am — stealing supplies like a pro. Or.. at least better than how I’d started out.

When I stepped up to the electrical cover of Aubrey’s older sister’s room, her voice spoke happily — revertibrating across the space. I scanned the room, but I couldn’t see any other humans. I guess she’s on the phone, I realized, slowly lifting the cover off the wall. Humans are awful, for the most part, but their inventions are beyond belief. Apparently, the other human she’s talking to could be on the other side of the world. It was mind-blowing to think about. How do they even get their voices to travel that far?

Once I was certain that she was distracted, I slid down to the floor and ran for the nearest hiding place. The human was sitting at her desk, and the box I needed was just beneath it. I waited for her to speak before I dashed beneath the desk from behind, coming to a halt beside the box. It was open, lid strewn to the side, and the quiet voice that I assumed was another human on the phone spoke at full volume now. Something shifted around, pushing items to the sides. I froze, too scared and confused to move.

A person my own size hauled themselves over the top of the box. She began talking to the human, but stopped abruptly when she noticed me. There were a few seconds of stunned silence where neither of us moved, before the human pulled back in her chair, confused why the conversation halted.

The thundering sound of the human moving her chair back brought me out of my trance. I raced to the outlet as fast as I could. My mind reeled. Who and what was that!? Were there normal-sized humans as well as giant ones?

Before I could get back up and into the walls, the strange smaller human ran after me. I yelped in terror — running as fast as I could to the opening in the wall. “Wait! Come back!” Picking up the pace, I threw myself into the cut in the insulation without even replacing the outlet cover. Hopefully, I could lose the strange mini human in the maze of wood and ventilation. I expertly navigated the labyrinth of wooden supports, the strange human chasing me all the while, calling out for me to stop.

Suddenly, a snap rang out and her calls ceased with a pained cry. I cautiously slowed to a halt, tiptoeing back the way I’d ran to listen. Labored breaths echoed from further back down the wall. No, I scolded myself internally, you are not going back for that strange small human. However, another desperate groan of agony rang out, and I found myself slinking towards the sound.

By the time I found her, the little human lay unconscious beside an awful trap. Most likely, she'd passed out from the pain. Her leg was twisted all wrong, bent out of place by the metal jaws that hung on either side of the wall. The trap she was caught in looked brutal. It consisted of two poised bands of metal, hanging on either side of an older pathway inside the wall. They were held open by a thin wire that stretched between them. I knew how to catch tripwires before triggering them, so I swiftly evaded it and kept running. This strange human couldn't have seen it coming.

Though she'd been chasing me only moments ago, I knew I couldn't leave her like that. I never intended for her to get snared by a trap; I just wanted to confuse her so I could get away. Using my small walking staff I usually used to avoid traps, I pried open the clamp’s metal jaws and moved the strange human's leg out from inside it. I sucked in a shocked breath of air as I brought my light over her. It was worse than I thought. Her leg was bloody and mangled. I gagged at the sight.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, though I knew she couldn't hear me, "I didn't mean for this to happen." Carefully, I bent down and hoisted her up, draping her unconscious form halfway over my shoulders. In a slow shamble, I headed back home. My thoughts raced during the silent journey. Was this person my own height really a smaller human? Logically, it made more sense that she was one of my own kind, specifically the person that the other human kept as a pet — but that made just as little sense. The two were talking happily, as though they'd been friends for a long time. If this person really is the 'pet' that the human had kept, I doubt that they'd be so close.

Eventually, I made it back to my home. I collapsed into a chair the moment I got my new guest into bed. It isn't really a bed, per se. Technically, it's a knitted mitten that one of the humans used to own, just like my chair is technically an upside-down plastic coffee pod, but what does it matter? That’s what I’m using it as, so that’s what it is.

After catching my breath, I got to work setting my strange guest's leg. I'd barely moved the limb when she suddenly sprang to life. I jumped back as she grabbed my arm, yelping in pain. She assessed the room at lightning speed, trying to process what happened and where she was.

Her behavior was baffling. Incredibly fast reflexes like those only came with proper thievery training. She isn't a smaller human after all. Finally, her wide-eyed gaze rested on me, and she hesitantly released my arm.

"You.. You're the- Ahhg!" she cut herself off with another cry of pain. Now that she actually took notice of her injury, her mouth opened in silent horror. "It's alright," I told her out of the blue. Slowly, her stricken gaze turned back to me. "I can fix this. It'll take some time, but I can help. If you're lucky, all you'll have is a limp afterwards."

Her perplexed stare became pained again and I rushed off to get some pain reliever. When I returned, my strange guest gave me a baffled expression. "That's.. human medicine. Won't that just.. I don't know, kill me?" I shook my head, taking the small tablet and crushing it into a sizable piece. "It won't kill you, so long as you take the right dosage." Her blank stare suggested that she had no idea what I meant. I doubt she'd been taught much about healing if she was one of the thieving types.

Handing over the small piece of medicine and a cup of water, I ordered her to swallow it, then went to get something to act as a splint. "Are you.. one of us?" I asked hesitantly, still disbelieving that she’d actually been conversing with a human. Pain no longer distorted her face, all that was left was a look of pure confusion. "Obviously, I mean… What else would I be, a tiny human?" Her sarcasm died off as she realized that's exactly what I'd thought. "You were talking with that human,” I replied, “We're not even supposed to let them know we're smart, never mind having a conversation with them!"

This got her quiet. She watched in silence as I pulled up a chair to the edge of the bed and reached for her leg. "Wh- What are you doing?" The tiniest spark of fear lit her eyes. I was the one who inadvertently lured her into that trap, after all. "I'm going to have to reset your leg," I explained, "I'm not going to lie, it'll hurt a lot." I grabbed a clean piece of cloth and handed it to her. "You might want to bite down on this to keep from yelling. I don't want the humans to hear."

There was a long moment of silence as the other Hidden-being stared me down. "Who are you?" she asked, "How long have you been living here for? Why haven't I seen you around?" All good questions, but I didn't have the time. The quicker I set her leg, the better. "Later," I told her, "Let me do this first. Just bite down on that cloth and please don't attack me. It'll seem like I'm purposefully hurting you, but I swear I'm just fixing your leg." "Alright," she said quietly, "I'm ready."

Both the sounds of the bones in her leg and her muffled cries of pain made me squeamish, but I had to press on. I felt awful for doing this to her. I could’ve warned her the trap was there, but I didn’t; I hoped it would slow her down by blocking the hallway. If she’d been running any slower, she would have been completely crushed by the metal clamps. To think that humans wanted us gone so badly, they were willing to create such terrible contraptions in order to kill us. There was a time when I believed the walls were the safehaven of a human household. Nowhere is safe anymore.

A long hour passed as I did my work. I bound the Hidden’s leg with a split, and dressed the blood-crusted gashes. She’d slipped out of consciousness sometime during the ordeal, so the room became eerily quiet when I finished, save for the labored breaths of my guest. I fixed us a meal while waiting nervously for her to wake.

Alone with my thoughts, I found myself again wondering about her origins. Was she really the other ‘pet’? Had she really done the impossible and befriended a human? If I’d spoken to Aubrey, and let her see that I was a sentient creature… Firstly, I’d be breaking a core rule of my kind. Secondly, I’d be so terrified by the human’s presence that I probably couldn’t have said much anyway.

A groan rose from the other room and I rushed to the bed. The other Hidden-being was awake. She sat up slowly, taking in a pained breath of air. “I probably shouldn’t get up, should I?” she asked me, resting her back on the wall behind her. Hesitantly, I placed a plate of food beside her on the bed. “Are you well enough to eat?” She nodded and took a few small bites. “Who are you?” she asked again, “Where are we?” I sat in the chair I put beside the bed earlier. “I’m June,” I answered, “This is my home; I built it just above the kitchen. Don’t worry, you’re safe here.” My comforts were met with a rather pensive look. “I’m Wren,” she introduced herself. An awkward pause hung in the air. It was late, and I turned away, trying to hide my yawn.

“Do you know about the other person here, the other.. pet?” she asked quietly, “Aubrey, the smaller human, is keeping one of us locked up! Have you seen them? Are they alright?”

I took a sharp breath. “I was Aubrey’s pet,” I responded, “Are you her sister’s?” Wren shook her head harshly, “I’ll never be a pet. No one, not even a human, can tell me what to do.” I was going to ask if the human she’d been speaking to told her what to do, but I didn’t get the chance. “What about you?” she continued, “I thought her sister still had her pet. How are you here?” “I escaped,” I said simply. “And the human didn’t tell anyone?” “No, I think she was trying to stay out of trouble.”

Wren seemed to understand that. “Oh yeah, my human got in a lot of trouble when she ‘lost’ me,” she said, making air quotes for the word lost. “Her parents had her do so many chores, she didn’t have an ounce of free time to see me that whole week.” I glanced at her skeptically. “Your human?” I repeated. “Well, it’s-“ she thought for a moment, “We’re friends; it’s complicated.”

“No.. it shouldn’t be. Humans and us Hidden can’t be friends,” I spat suddenly, “That’s insane! Look at what that human trap did to you! How could you trust that human enough to be friends with her?” Wren tried to explain, but I stood up and went to the doorway. “I’m tired. It’s late. I can’t process this right now.” It was horribly rude of me, but I’m not in the mood to argue tonight.

I ended up sleeping on the floor with a blanket. Wren had taken the only bed, and she certainly needed it more than I did. In the morning, I had to help her over to the bathroom so she could get around without putting weight on her leg. When at last she settled down, I went to get some more medicine, but she spoke.

“I haven’t heard that name in a long time…” I paused in the doorway. “Hidden. I stopped calling myself that the day I was captured. We aren’t exactly ‘hidden beings’ anymore.” Sighing, I turned to her and leaned on the doorframe, “That’s what we are, Wren.” She shrugged, “Humans call us ‘Borrowers’. I think I like that name.” I grumble and grudgingly go get the medicine. When I return, Wren stays silent for a bit.

“Hey, about last night…” I glanced up at her tiredly. “Just hear me out, please? Liz, the human I was talking to, she’s not like other humans.” “How?” I challenged, “Why?” “It.. was an accident, her finding out about us being smart and whatnot. I screwed up and spoke in front of her. She had every opportunity to call me out on it — to tell the other humans and ruin our secret. But she didn’t. Liz found out I was just like any other person.. and treated me like one. I don’t know why or how she’s like that, but she is.”

I doubted it; it went against everything I’d been taught about humans. “So, when she ‘lost’ you…” “Liz pretended to lose me so she could free me. And-” Wren paused, giving me a look that was almost sorry. “And I have to tell her I’m alright.”

“What?” I asked, confused. “You can barely stand on your own! How are you getting all the way to her room?” “I don’t know, how did you get me here?” I sighed, “I can’t take you all the way back, it’ll mess up your leg.” “Then you need to go for me.” I blanched at the mere thought of being in front of another human. “No,” I replied forcefully, “I am NOT going anywhere near that human, or any other human. I don’t care what you say, I don’t trust them, and you shouldn’t either!”

“Well, I do!” Wren shot back, “And you don’t have to talk to her at all. Let me write her a note. You can leave it out somewhere she’ll see it. Please.” Her voice grew softer, “I don’t want her to worry about me. What if she heard me get caught in the trap? I could be dead for all she knows!” My eyes closed tightly, and I sank into a chair. It felt like my body was shutting down on itself as my head fell into my hands. “If I do this.. you owe me.” Wren nodded eagerly, “I can have Liz get whatever you want. I’ll deliver it for you when I’m better.”

The deal was beyond tempting. If Wren and that human are really friends, I have no doubt that she could get just about anything I could dream of. I reasoned that it couldn’t hurt if I simply delivered a letter. Get in, leave it on the floor by the electrical socket, get out. It would be easier than a supply run.

Wren could tell that I’d given in. She reached out expectantly, waiting for a piece of paper and something to write with. With a long sigh, I got up and gathered a scrap of paper and a piece of pencil lead I’d taken. Handing them over, I sat waiting nervously for her to write the letter. It seemed like forever and no time at all before she’d finished. “Put it somewhere she’ll find it,” Wren instructed. “I will.” Soon, I began the trek to Liz’s room. Everything went smoothly until I got to the electrical cover. I stood in front of it, staring blankly at the slits of light beaming in from the other side.

This was it. Get in, leave the letter, get out. Simple. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the cover aside and peered out. The room was silent and empty, which put my racing heart at ease. I slid down to the floor and snuck out to the edge of the room. Digging into my bag, I pulled out the letter. Footsteps echoed outside the door, and I froze in fear. Thankfully, it sounded like Aubrey’s footsteps, meaning that she was on her way to her own room, not this one. I’d just set the letter down when a new set of footsteps rang out. At that same moment, the door to the room swung open.

It was Liz. I dashed to the electrical socket, but she was bigger, and I was so scared that I fumbled with the climbing rope. In no time at all, I was met with a wall of flesh. I scrambled backwards, terrified. I could do nothing but watch in horror as hands larger than myself squeezed in around me. “No! Wait!” I cried out. However, my pleas weren’t even acknowledged. Liz held me in one gigantic fist, dragging me through the air towards her desk. I screamed, thrashing in her grip. Suddenly, I was let go. I fell roughly onto the surface of the desk in front of her.

Immediately, I scrambled behind a stack of books that were piled on her desk. My attempt to hide must’ve been laughable to the human. She simply pulled the books away from me.

“What did you do with Wren?” Her voice echoed in waves through my head while my vision swam. “N- Nothing,” I whimpered, pressing myself to the wall behind me. Liz leaned over the desk, inching menacingly closer. “I don’t know what the punishment is for befriending a human, but I heard her in the walls, crying in pain. So I’ll ask you again. What did you do with her?”

I could barely focus. Not only had she heard Wren get hurt, she thought I’d hurt her, as punishment for breaking a crucial survivalist rule. “I didn’t do anything to her, I swear! She chased after me, you saw that, right?” Liz’s narrowed eyes widened slightly. “I did.” “S- She ran through a trap while she chased me. Please, you have to believe me! Look at the letter!”

Liz sat back; her face rapidly lost color. A wave of silence drifted over the room. “She.. got caught in a trap? Is she alright?” Liz asked, suddenly sobered by my news. It took me a moment to realize that the human looked awfully worried about Wren — interest in me completely lost. I opened my mouth to speak, but tears welled in my eyes. Despite my best efforts to calm myself, I began crying. A few moments ago, I saw my life flash before my eyes. Wren was very wrong. Liz is terrifying. I sank to the ground, curling up with my back pressed into the wall behind me.

“Hey, I- I’m sorry,” a voice spoke softly from above. I was so shocked by the shift in Liz’s tone, that I managed to look up at her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re my sister’s…” She paused, unwilling to call me what I’d been. “I escaped,” I confessed meekly. “I remember you,” her voice dropped to an almost whisper. “I… helped you out of that toy car. God, I wanted to take you away to safety the moment I saw you.” I blinked. Then.. why didn’t you?

It suddenly occurred to me that she could return me to Aubrey — to my little personal hell. “Please don’t bring me back!” I yelped. Liz smiled sadly, “Of course I won’t. You shouldn’t have had to endure that to begin with. I’m sorry I scared you, but you’re safe here.” I hesitantly wiped the tears from my face, “Safe?" I repeated, confused. "You just grabbed me.” Liz glanced guiltily at the spot on the floor where I’d been standing. “What’s that?” she asked, nodding to the letter on the floor. “A letter. Wren wrote it for you.”

Liz went over and picked it up. I watched as she carefully read the note, which suddenly looked tiny in her hands. When she turned back to me, her expression had shifted entirely. “Thank you,” Liz said earnestly, coming back to sit at her desk. “Thank you for taking care of Wren. I’m honestly glad she’s with you, and not only because you know how to help her.” Liz backed off slightly, allowing me more of a distance between us so I wasn’t pressed against the wall. “Wren’s been.. homesick, I think. She needs another Borrower in her life. I can’t imagine living without any other humans around; it can’t be much different for you.”

I stood on the desk in thought for a while. There was that name again, ‘Borrower’. We don’t even borrow, we steal. Is that some kind of demeaning term humans like to use? Why was Wren ok with it? Why is Wren ok with any of this!?

Liz offered me a small meal to calm me down some. I tried a bit of the food to satisfy her, though I could barely stomach it. “Is it true?” I asked, needing to know the answer, “Did you really free Wren?” Liz sighed, “It’s one thing to own some creature that looks like a person, but when I realized what Wren and the rest of you are, I.. I couldn't leave her trapped in there. I didn't even want a Borrower because I thought it was unsettling how similar you are to us."

"I remember," I agreed quietly, "Aubrey was upset that you got to have a.. pet too." Liz nodded, "But you escaped! That's impressive! I was beginning to wonder what happened to you because my sister never mentions you much anymore. Now I know why. How did you manage that, anyways?" Thinking back, I suddenly became defensive. Humans are awful. Liz was awful to me.

I don't know why she’s deciding to be so nice right now, but she could easily switch back to the horrifying personality that snatched me off the floor and accused me of hurting someone. Liz is the sister of my previous captor. I don't particularly feel like sticking around to make small talk.

"I have to go," I said decisively, a bit more harshly than I intended. "I'll heal your friend, but then.. I have to move now. It's my people’s code." "Wh- What?" Liz stammered, "You aren't leaving soon, are you? It's freezing outside!" "I have blankets," I replied curtly. I stormed over to the edge of the desk, reaching for my bag and my climbing rope. "You don't have to leave! I'll keep your secret like I'm keeping Wren's, I promise!" Liz told me, still trying to convince me to stay. Why does she want me here so badly? Maybe it's a trap — using Wren as bait to lure other Hidden-beings out of hiding.

When I got to the floor, I turned my back to her and walked off toward the outlet cover. It was a risky move, but I wanted Liz to know for certain that I made up my mind. She stammered a few half-baked excuses as I slid back into the outlet. I didn't stop marching away until I was deep within the walls. With a shuddering cry, I sank to the ground. I've worked so hard to make a home for myself here — to avoid the freezing temperatures outside — but now I have no choice.

Wiping the mist from my eyes, I plastered on a nonchalant expression and returned to my home and Wren. "Did she find the note?" Wren asked me the moment I stepped into the room. "Yeah, I watched from behind the outlet. She read it and looked relieved. That was about it."

Of course I lied to her. I didn't dare tell her how horrifying her beloved human had been to me. I also hadn’t told her my plan to leave the moment she was out of my home. I wanted to heal her; no matter what she thought of humans, she was still my own kind, and I felt responsible for her. Over the next few days, I did everything in my power to stay as far away from Liz as I could until I could get away from her for good.

Nightmare after nightmare stalked me down nearly every night, and I rarely went out to gather supplies anymore. What did it matter if I had stuff saved? I’d be leaving most of it behind when I left anyway. I cried a lot, too — in a little crevice far away from Wren or any of the humans. I just.. don’t know what to do anymore. At this rate it only feels like I’m delaying another mortifying inevitable capture.

A week or two after I took Wren in, her leg had healed enough that she could walk on it, with the help of a walking stick, that is. When she was well enough to make the journey, I helped her to the electrical socket in Liz's room, but stopped there. "Well, this is as far as I take you. Thanks for keeping me company these past few days, it's been.. nice." Though Wren's human seems suspicious, Wren herself was not all that bad to have around. Her company had been a good change of pace for me. I hated to think that I would soon be alone again.

"Thank you for healing up my leg," Wren replied, "I'll come by to visit you soon, ok?" I nodded silently, knowing that she would be walking into an empty room. "Take care, and try not to fall into any more traps. Go enjoy freedom, I guess." Wren quickly tried to convince me again that I could have 'freedom' too, but I reminded her that I do have freedom. Real freedom. The kind I created myself instead of relying on some human to give it to me. I didn't tell her that last part.

After another round of goodbyes and thank yous, Wren went to wait for Liz and I went back to my home to pack. A sour feeling rested in my throat as I began dividing things up between what I could bring and what I couldn't. Once everything I could possibly take was packed, I slept one last time in my bed here before my journey. I woke when I sensed that night had fallen. It was time for me to go.

It took me a half-hour to get out of the house, but I eventually found a vent that left me standing in the side yard. The moment I slid outside, a freezing wind rushed over the ground, cutting right through my meager coverings and stitched-together blankets. I desperately wanted to go back inside to the home I'd made for myself, but thanks to the awful human, I can't.

One chilly step at a time, I began the long journey across the backyard to the next house over. I nearly set off a trap as I rounded the perimeter of the house, scaring me to my senses. It was rapidly growing dark and I was only about a quarter of the way through my trip. The cold had made things harder than I'd planned, and it was only going to get colder as the night wore on. Please, just let me make it there without getting frostbite. The universe only laughed at my pathetic plea. Minutes afterward, the sky completely darkened. It began to snow.

My heart seized painfully in my chest like the day I'd been caught and the day I'd been sold. It was an instinctive feeling of my body telling me there was a very good chance I'm going to die. Quickly, I fought back tears and continued onward. Even if I had gone back, I couldn't have gotten inside the house. The vent opening was too far above my head. Heavier flakes began to pile up, and I shuddered each time one landed on me — soaking freezing water through my clothing. Soon, there was a light dusting of frozen crystals of water over the entire ground, and my feet were starting to lose feeling.

How long can I last? Is there even a point in trying to trek to the next house when I’m clearly not going to make it? Though I knew for certain that it would be my last night alive, I kept moving forwards, refusing to give up. If I stopped moving, the cold would only take me faster. My persistence was met with deeper and deeper snow as the night wore on. Eventually, it was up to my waist, and I didn't have the energy to continue wading through the bitterly cold substance any longer.

Crying out in anguish and despair, I fell to the ground, numb and completely exhausted. Curling up in a tight ball, I shivered against myself, desperately trying to generate at least a little heat. My eyes grew heavier by the second, and I began drifting in and out of bitter darkness.

After my eyes had been closed for some time, a faint light shone behind them. Is this what happens before you die? The light became brighter and my numb body moved just slightly, reaching for it. "June?" Death was calling to me. I was so sure of it. I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The last of my energy drained, I fell back into the inky black void of unconsciousness.

What felt like instantly, I was lightly jostled awake by the feeling of rising into the air. A sudden warmth engulfed me, and I greeted it eagerly, only for the heat to become burning against my frostbitten skin. I groaned and tried to escape it, but the heat seemed to be all around me at once. Weakly, I shoved at the space. "It's ok, I'll put you down in a second," a voice spoke from high above me, "Let me get somewhere safer first." A few moments later, I was deposited on something cooler, and I gasped, soaking in the ambient warmth as my vision swam.

The entire time, and for some time afterwards, my mind was trapped in a constant fog. I didn't feel like opening my eyes, but when I did, the only things I could make out were vague shapes and colors all swirling together almost nauseatingly. Quickly, I closed them again. Voices spoke to each other, but I could barely comprehend the words. Laying in almost total disorientation, I silently thanked the universe for letting me live, and begged it to have landed me somewhere nice, with people that I could trust. Was that too much to ask after my near-death experience? I hoped not.

After initially being brought inside, I basked in the warmth that came from simply being in that place. But as I began to warm up more, I started to shiver again. I tried to speak, to tell whoever had taken me in that I was getting colder, but all that came from my lips was a weak cry. Thankfully, one of my saviors realized what I wanted and spread a blanket over me. I pulled it in closer and tried to sit up, but my arm quickly gave out beneath me.

“Here, don’t strain yourself. I’ll get you something for you to sit up on.” Still in a fog, I wasn’t sure if I recognized their voice, but their hands were about the same size as my own, so at the very least I’d been found by one of my own kind. Relief let me relax as I was propped up slightly and offered a drink. Soon my head cleared enough for me to open my eyes.

My heart nearly flew from my chest when I took in the sight in front of me. I was back on Liz’s desk, in the exact same place I’d been before.

“No!” I rasped, trying in vain to get up, “I did all this to get away from you! Why are you here?!” Liz backed away looking hurt as Wren came over and tried to calm me down. “She’s not going to hurt you,” she assured me, “I won’t let her.” “Like you can stop her?” I spat. “She could grab both of us and stuff us back in a cage and neither of us could do anything about it! Why, why do you trust her!? How can you trust someone who can do that to you!?” “She wouldn’t.” “She did!” I nearly screamed, “She almost crushed me the moment she spotted me!”

“And that was her mistake!” Wren shot back, “I’ve scolded her and made her promise never to touch you without your permission.” My mouth opened and closed silently for a second. “Do you really think she’ll keep that promise?” “I do.”

I glanced at Liz, standing quietly to the side with a chastised expression. Her gaze wandered anywhere but the desk where Wren and I stood. “Liz told me what happened when I got back; what you conveniently didn’t tell me. She only threatened you because she thought you’d hurt me. She was only trying to protect me.” “Well, that’s good for you,” I huffed sarcastically, glaring at the gigantic girl. “You can have your protective little human all to yourself, then.”

I could tell Wren was trying extremely hard not to continue our yelling match. Her expression remained calm, but there was an angered sharpness to her gaze. “You could have at least waited until it was warmer. You must know better than to leave in the middle of winter,” she said. I scoffed, “Have you forgotten all the rules? I had to leave! She saw me!” I replied, jabbing a finger at Liz. She flinched as I did. “I know you don’t really care anymore, being a pet and all, but those rules have kept us free and safe. The only reason we’re in this situation is because of people like you who choose to break them!”

Loud silence suddenly fell over the room. I was frightened by it. I’d expected Wren to finally snap and reply with something hurtful in return — maybe even sick her terrible human on me — but she just stood there, staring out at nothing.

“I didn’t choose to break the rules,” she finally said in a quiet breath. “I didn’t choose to reveal anything to the humans. When Liz found out the truth, it scared me just as much as it scares you. But she used my moment of weakness to help me rather than hurt me, and I owe every good thing I have now to her.”

Liz suddenly burst into tears. The sound sent me on high alert. A sad human was only one wrong word away from an angry one. Wren whirled around, shocked. “Liz, what-?” “I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, “After all the time I’ve spent with you, my first instinct was to hurt the only other Borrower I know! M- Maybe she’s right! You don’t belong with me. You deserve to have safety without having to fully rely on one person with power over everything!”

Wren turned away from me, rushing to the edge of the desk that was closest to the human. “Liz, no! Y- You can’t be serious! I do belong with you! Our way of life doesn’t work anymore. This is the new way, the better way, to live! I don’t completely rely on you; I still borrow supplies for myself every day, and you don’t even know. With the right humans and borrowers working together, we can change history for the better!”

“Better?” I questioned bitterly, causing both sets of eyes to turn to me. “How can living with monstrous beings like humans make our lives better? They were the best they could be without them. The only reason we would need them at all is to convince other humans not to kill us on sight.”

Wren rubbed her temples tiredly. “You just… You don’t understand,” she told me — voice falling. “Humans have so much more freedom than we ever did, even in our old lives. We rarely got to communicate with others of our kind; stepping outside was like being in another world; and we had to get by on so little that we had to starve ourselves to continue living sometimes. You call that the best life we can live? Really? We aspire to be slightly advanced rats? That’s what you want to be?”

Tears welled in the corners of my eyes, remembering my younger brother, who starved himself to sickness and eventually death trying to let the rest of us have a bit more to eat. Then there was my mother, who was impaled trying to cut into the water pipe so we could have access to the humans’ supply. “No,” I whispered on the verge of tears. “It isn’t what I aspire to be, but what other choice do I have when they control everything?”

Slowly, Wren came over and sat beside me, offering me a gentle hug. I broke down in another fit of tears, and watched out of the corner of my eye as Liz fled the room.

“We do have a choice,” Wren told me after I’d calmed. “All our kind needs is enough good humans to vouch for us. They could end everything we fear, but they don’t know we’re even capable of thinking the same way they do. If we can’t speak for ourselves, they’ll have to.” It pained me inside and out, but I had to ask. “What if we break the rules? What if we show the whole world of humans just how similar we all are to eachother? Then we can vouch for ourselves.” Wren was quiet for a while, thinking, then turned around.

“Liz, what if we-” she stopped, realizing the human was gone. “What..? Where did she go?” I shrugged, “She ran out of the room a while ago.” “Dammit I keep telling her she shouldn’t group herself in with the torturous ones of her kind.. I- I don’t want to leave you here alone, but-” “Go,” I told her in a sudden flare of certainty. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve warmed up.”

Wren glanced between me and the doorway. “I’ll be right back.” Then she turned and slid down the side of the desk with expert movements — not even needing a rope or grapple. Now that was the work of someone who was trained how to traverse human spaces.

I still can’t believe it’s come back to me being in a human’s clutches again. Though, I guess if I’m being kept here by anyone, it’s Wren. I want to help her. I want to help myself. However, the prospect of helping myself no longer included running away to hide in a different home — that was clearly a horrific idea that would’ve killed me if it weren’t for the human looking out for me.

All I did was follow my people’s code; it’s supposed to keep me alive, not put me in danger. Yet.. everything that saved me just now was against those rules. Just like everything that saved Wren went against them. Maybe things really do have to change. The thought frightened me just as much as it exited me. Something had to happen, but would it be for better, or for worse?

#welcome to angst town yall!#man these tinies just can’t catch a break…#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing

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hoe4rairai · 8 months ago

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❌️ RAIAN FEVER TODAY ❌️

My Answers ❣️ :

1- If you were in Raian's universe, will you accept him as he is ? The murdere , the Assassin ...

Hard at the beginning, but I will grow a thicker skin if he only assassins bad people. Otherwise, it's a huge pill I might not even be able to swallow. Also, if he likes animals, it might be a bit easier to accept his job.

2- Continue dating him after what he's done to Alan ?

YES ... but it will take me a while to accept what I saw him doing, and i might not be relaxed for a while when he's around me. If I distant myself from him, he will go and never come back because he'll think I don't support him. However, I DOOOo support him, especially with these worms. But the mere fact that he torn a full-grown human ass apart will not settle well with me at the beginning . Speaking about it might be a good idea, but I can't show Raian my discomfort, as to him, it means weakness, and he hates mentally or physically weak people. My my discomfort might have, however, show unintentionally when he touches me or makes a sudden move on me. I can't help it, I am not a kure , my brain functions differently.

3- Will you support his mission to destroy the Worm and accept that he might never come back ?

I support his mission 💯... If He might never come back, I will probably disappear as well. In the alternate universe, Raian will be the air I breathe, so him not around ever again means no point for me to live , so i will go search for him in hell and live with my king for eternity .( too dramatic, I know 🤣 )

4- Will you be able to handle his rough handling and obsession over his power ?

Me personally, i am obsessed over his power and i brag about it whenever i get a chance, but with me, I might have to keep reminding him gently every now and then that I am breakable and I would need little TLC every now and then, specially that time of the month, he however, will do whatever he pleases until i show some physical discomfort, then he snuggles with me like a kitty, I SWEAR HE PURRRSSSSS.

5- If you were transported to Kengan universe, how would you seek his attention ?

Looooool .. I have no Fuckin idea .... he likes strong women physically and mentally. I will surely be a mantal challenge for him. It's not hard to be chased by men if you play the right cards, but with the Kure Devil, I better be quick-witted and challangbleonce once the bait gets hooked he will claim me. AND I WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN. Am just worried about the aftermath ☠️☠️

6- In Kengan univers, how would you want to look like ? Describe yourself ( looks, figure, hair, strength, height, weight , foreign or Japanese , job.. what will your unique feature be ? SET YOUR IMAGINATION FREE

It's not so much different from how I look in reality. I am 162cm and 50kgs . umm, maybe longer hair , like a long breeded dark black hair. I would probably want to look like a human cute but sexy cat 😄😁😁 Meow. Though, I know he would be attracted to a unique beauty with a twisted yet mysterious personality that I can be, but Raian , likes his woman big and strong, so I might not stand a chance if ever ...

8- How you met ?

7- Imagine your first kiss / Sex .. ! It's NOT traditional ...!!!

First Kiss : forced, pushed, and messy but will deepen when I gradually lose my grip.

Sex : he won't be an asshole but he will manhandle me , and I think I will get attached after that. It won't be easy at first to adjust to his black sharp eyes paralyzing my body and soul or the positions he will force my body into that would make me very vulnerable and hopeless and SCARED but I will get attentive when he slows down a bit and relaxes.

I WANT TO READ ALL YOUR WILD IMAGINATION YOU HAVE ABOUT THIS MAN ...

At Fusui's apartment. Visiting, I saw a huge body laying on the couch semi naked face down . I mean, I could surf full board on that broad back ... Fusui gestured not to make a sound, but his presence tickled me so I purposely spoke loud, he Turned and his eyes looking at was enough to sent me into her room in a blink of an eye shutting close and wasn't sure if my mind captured the picture of his angry face correctly or I literally saw a real devil in my bestie's living room ..?!!!!!!

Disclaimer: My blog is a safe place for your imaginative mind. We all are wild for this man, and it's perfectly fine to have a comfort character. Don't be shy to go absolutely wild ... 😜 🎶 😉 🤪

#kenganverse #kengan omega #kengan ashura #kengan ashura imagines #raian kure #kure raian #the devil

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nerdyloverparadise · 6 months ago

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❉❉❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉❉

Synopsis: Gojo stumbles into Shoko's office with a huge gash looking to be patched up.

Authors note: This is my first time writing this kind of piece but i had an idea so i had to do it somehow. Apologies if its not too good! But yeahh, hopefully you enjoy it!

Word Count: 2.1k

Includes: Gojo, Shoko, Geto, Utahime

Contains: angst, smoking, wounds, death (severed), maybe spoiler if you haven't read the recent chapters.

❉❉❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉❉

The Lighter.

It wasn’t Shoko’s first time having to heal Gojo. Sometimes his Reverse Cursed Technique wasn’t enough and extra help was needed. But seeing him again was always a pleasant surprise, so she didn’t mind. Why would she? On this particular day, Gojo sauntered in with a gash that appeared semi-healed across the top of his left pectoral muscle. Its edges were rigid, as if the skin was on the verge of intertwining and regenerating, but lacked the cursed energy to complete the process.

He has a small smirk plastered on his face as he leans against the doorway, one leg bent to rest on the frame and the other kicked out as if he were trying to recline. His dove-like locks pushed to stick upwards due to his lifted blindfold resting around his temples like a headband. “Heyyy Sho.”

It was the same cheeky greeting every time, his tone shooting up when he extended it much longer than needed. However, there was a heaviness to his tone today, more depleted and listless than usual. Even the casual flick of his wrist into a salute-like wave with two fingers seemed languid. Shoko sat on a stool next to a stretcher, its wheels turned in different directions, losing their metal tint, scuffed and blackened from the amount of times it had been utilized. She hadn’t dropped the habit of smoking, a cigarette stayed coddled between her fingers, smoke evading from her mouth every few minutes or so. “Hey, Satoru. Didn’t expect to see you.”

He kicks himself off the door frame, his hands resting in his pockets, fiddling with something as he walks over to Shoko and takes a seat on the less than comfortable surface of the stretcher.

“I would have expected it to be the other guy. What are you doing here?” Shoko asks, removing the cigarette from her mouth as it starts to go out, not producing enough smoke for her to further inhale. She sighs softly and sets the cigarette down in a tray next to her.

“Well, I’m hurt. It’s just a measly scratch and normally I'd patch it up myself… Buttt,” The words fall off Gojo’s tongue like clockwork, his cockiness tightly threaded tightly into each one. He shifts his body, leaning slightly towards Shoko, hands resting on the stretcher's edge.“I decided I'd give you a chance to shine today, Shoko. Consider it a gift from yours truly.”

“Very funny.” Shoko retorts as she rolls her eyes ever so slightly, the corners of her lips turning up almost unnoticeably in amusement. Gojo grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, Shoko instinctively averts her eyes, her head turning slightly away. He groans softly as he stretches his arms upward to remove the shirt fully, his hand coming down on the stretcher with a soft thud, the shirt clenched in his grip. He takes a deep exhale, a smirk grazing his face as he looks back at her, noticing her face turned in the other direction. “You can look, ya know? The gash is on my chest.”

She turns back to face him, his eyes half-lidded and seemingly uncaring about his current state. There was no visible emotion on her face apart from a slight raise of her brow. “How’d that happen? It’s pretty bad, actually,” He replies nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and gazing off to the floor. It was pretty unusual for him to be so badly injured. “You know I can only heal to an extent, Satoru. You might have a scar now.” Questions jostled through her mind. He wouldn’t let himself get injured this way, so how did it actually happen? Who did it? He has enough cursed energy to heal it himself, so why didn’t he? Why are you really here, Satoru?

She reached out with both hands while simultaneously standing from her stool, her lab coat catching the air and flying up along with her hair. One of her hands came to Gojo’s cheek but stopped just short of it, moving slower and slower. A small frown appeared on her face before she was finally able to close the distance, her hand resting on his cheek, fingertips and then the soft palm.

“Remember, I’m your friend, Satoru. You’re safe,” Shoko said somberly, her words warmer than usual.

“Yeah. I just… forget to turn it off sometimes.” His eyes dart to hers momentarily and then back to the ground, his face warming at the contact. She begins to bring her other hand up to his chest, pressing her palm firmly against the wounded area before starting her Reverse Cursed Technique. His gaze remains fixed downward, yet he peeks up through his lashes, finding solace in her presence alone. The heaviness he carried into the room wasn’t going away; it felt cold, as though he was hollow at the moment, hardwired to be his usual self on the outside. As the energy begins to surge through him, a sigh escapes his lips, laden with a sense of exhaustion that permeates his entire being. With a slight hesitation, he reaches out, his fingers wrapping around Shoko's wrist, gently guiding her hand away from his chest.

"Could you… just treat it normally?" he requests, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability beneath the casualty. Shoko hums slightly, looking over at her cigarette as if it’d miraculously light itself again. She didn’t question his request, nor did she say much of anything though she had many thought’s swirling in her mind. She grabs alcohol from a cabinet, along with gauze and medical tape, bringing it back to the tray she’d sat her cigarette in. She sets the materials down gently, but not before moving her cigarette out the way. Meanwhile, Gojo examines the materials himself, his mind drifting back to a time when he could fit into size 4 shoes, when he would bustle around and scrape his knees outdoors like the other kids. He felt a little more human then.

Shoko takes a piece of cotton and douses it in alcohol, the smell stinging their nostrils - sterile yet pungent. As she turns to face Gojo once more, he has a small lighter in his hand, tapping it on his leg to some imaginary beat in his head before looking up at her. “Had a feeling you’d need it, putting up with me,” he mutters with a small chuckle that segues into a slight dry cough. His hand darts halfway to his chest before retreating, avoiding Shoko's notice of his pain. He holds out the lighter, and she palms it back to him. “I will take care of you first. Thank you, though. Genuinely,” she says with a sigh, having sensed something was wrong almost before he reclined on the door when he came in.

The alcohol-drenched cotton approaches the wound and dabs it lightly, accompanied by a violent flinch from Gojo - a human response. “Ack- damn! That… mm.. still stings like hell.” His hand instinctively flies to grab Shoko’s, his teeth clenched at the burn shooting through his chest. Their hands squeeze together tightly as she lets out a small chuckle. “Thought you were the strongest, Satoru?”

His eyes darted up to hers for a moment, glaring through his lashes as his lips pulled into a thin, frustrated line. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

She squeezes his hand a little with a sigh, continuing to clean his wound. Her laughter subsided as quickly as it came. The rest of the time was tense, she could tell he appreciated her presence but the comment she made bothered him to an extent despite it being a joke. He tenses and relaxes, squeezing her hand and holding it tighter whenever the alcohol touches his wound. Finally, she breaks the seemingly endless silence. “Why did you want me to clean this the regular way?”

"Nobody gets to touch the Strongest, right? Gotta remind myself I'm still human somehow," his voice trails off a bit, sounding like it’s going to bottom out when he calls himself the strongest. His head is cocked downward, eyes locked on his lap and the black lighter lined with white and topped off with brown mechanical parts, spinning in his hand.

The process is traditional, slow and quiet. He doesn’t say anything after that and neither does Shoko. When it’s done and he’s all stitched up she steps back, hand sliding out of his easily from all the sweat that’s built up. “You’re done. Feel alright?”

He nods and stands up in front of Shoko, smiling at her faintly, his eyes struggling to maintain liveliness. “Yup. Take the lighter. Compensation for me wasting your time….” he trails off and then starts back up again, “It’s nice to see you, Shoko.” His tone is so foreboding. Almost melancholic, the room eerily cold as his eyes bore into hers kindly. She takes the lighter and he leans down to give her a hug. "Thanks, seriously, what would everyone do without you? You're like the glue holding this whole crazy team together… don’t change, Shoko.”

She smiles genuinely and wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling into his shoulder. It felt like everything fell into place. They pull away shortly after and he puts his shirt back on before heading towards the door, she flicks the lighter a few times, cigarette already back in her mouth swiftly. He chuckles, sticking up two fingers with his back turned to her to say goodbye. He opens the door, the blinds rustling against the glass of it. “And Shoko.”

“Yeah?” She says a bit muffled as she takes the cigarette out of her mouth.

“You and Suguru always knew how to make me feel…” Some thoughts in his head seem to derail his sentence before he finishes it.

“Hm?”

“That’s all.”

She shrugs her shoulders and gives a hum as an appreciation as he disappears out of the door, “No problem then.”

A few days later she’d find herself hauling half of Gojo’s body back to her examination room as Utahime followed with the other. He knew he’d end up this way, knew Shoko would break down because her limits were clear. She couldn’t fix this much damage. She couldn't look at his face, eyes big and blue, and worst of all, fading. She didn’t seem sad, her face was neutral as she entered her room with a heavy head and even heavier heart. She set the two halves of his body on the table and placed her hands on the bisect where they should have still been connected. She holds her hands steady, pushing cursed energy out over and over again to no avail as Utahime watches, it was a silent downward spiral, one that made time a figment of her imagination. “Come on now Satoru, please wake up.” She mutters, almost an hour later, voice hoarse from having said nothing as she concentrates long and hard on bringing him back. It wasn’t working. Nothing was working. Soon, Utahime grabs her hands, holding them gently as she looks down at Gojo’s severed body. The touch brought her back slightly, pushed the realization on her that she was starting to exhaust and her ability was fizzling out just like Gojo’s faint pulse.

“Utahime, can you.. Use your cursed technique on me? Please, let’s just try it?

Utahime nods. After hours of attempting and silence, seeing his skin rejuvenate without a trace of life, Utahime released her technique, ending the useless efforts. Shoko’s face was full of color, red and moist from exertion followed by the soft panting that slowly segwayed into pained wheezes.

She abruptly releases her technique too and calmly wisps around to grab a whole pack of cigarettes and heads outside to smoke a few. She pulls out the lighter Gojo had gifted her from her back pocket, scrutinizing the array of colors before lighting the cigarette. As she goes to place the lighter back in her pocket, her fingers graze the bottom and she feels something embroidered into it. With immediate curiosity, she flips the lighter over and inspects it briefly, her eyes widening to see S.S.S carved into the bottom. It was the same old rushed, lackluster handwriting that Gojo had. Each ‘S’ was a little jagged in their own way but it was so uniquely him, so recognizably him. A rush of flashbacks from her teenage years flooded her memory, of her on Geto’s back, Gojo yelling some kind of obscenity while they walked through cherry blossom filled roads. It was always all smiles, all canines and obnoxious, warm laughter. Warmth begins to spill down her face, her eyes blurry and muddled with tears that seemingly wouldn’t stop. “Satoru..” She murmurs, her voice light and broken, choked up by her own tears.

“Satoru!” The crack in her voice was evident now, it was like years worth of pent-up emotions in a guttural, raw cry for help from friends that just weren’t around anymore.

“Why do you guys keep… leaving?”

『••✎••』

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authorred · 2 years ago

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Loki Laufey/Odinson NSFW HC’s cause I’m slacking off in class

This will definitely be NSFW (18+) so minors DNI (do not interact). Unless you do, which in that case I refuse to be held responsible for the content you consume.

Warning(s): NSFW

Superiority complex through the roof

I really want to say switch top

Has lacked true control and power his entire life, so allow him to take the reins every once in a while

However, his cockiness and brattiness can and should be tamed

Very servile when submissive--will pleasure you in whatever way he can, and you want

When he’s dominant, he’s calm and very soft. Rarely gets rough on his own incentive. You’d have to ask for it specifically and/or tell him it’s alright before hand

He’s probably more submissive than dominant, so if you want him to be your good boy, just lean up and purr into his ear how much he’s pleasuring you/how good he’s doing

He will melt and lose his dominant front

KISS HIS NECK NOW

Kiss the back of his hand whilst keeping eye contact. He won’t say it, but that gets him off

Call him ‘My Prince’

His favorite position in general would be underneath you

Ride him whilst he sitting or lying down, he will hold you and assist you if you want or need

Choke this whore

Quickest way to get him horny is to challenge him

Whether he wins or loses doesn’t matter, though if he loses to you that’s bonus points

If he wins his ego will go through the roof

If he loses, on his knees he’ll go

It really depends on your preferred dynamic tbh

He’s a complex person with a bunch of contradicting emotions and feelings

Sometimes he’ll sub and then decide to dom because he’s so used to submitting to others, it’s a habit to try and ‘be better’ than them, or ‘one up’ them in some way

If you want him to sub to you, not only do you have to show him he can trust and respect you, but you have to show him you’re worth it

Might cry one of the first times icl

Body worship, affirmations, praise

EMPHASIS ON THE PRAISE--PRAISE THIS GOD FOR THE LOVE OF DFGNJBHHNBUJGDTRHBUAREBH

If you ask him to fuck you over a desk or a table or on a piece of furniture, chances are he’ll do it

Emerald green lingerie, that’s it

Any lingerie you wear would get him to go awooga, but EMERALD GREEN would get him to bark without a doubt, that man’s a whore for that color

Look him dead in the eye, tell him ‘Kneel’ and he’ll give you that ‘really?’ look of his before obeying

Play with his hair, pull it, grip it, use it to guide him

Will whimper--MAKE him whimper--literally turn this god into a submissive whimpering mess

Slight mommy issues, but will never you call ‘mommy’

Will call you things like ‘My Princess’, ‘My Love’ ‘My Dear’, ‘Darling’, ‘Sweetheart’

Will use your actual name in times of intense of pleasure

Might not be into pegging that much? He might try, but there’s a bigger chance of him disliking it

Slap him (not too hard) when he brats. He’ll become shocked and that’s the perfect time to dom him

Sit on his lap and kiss his neck, he’ll be gone

He probably knows how to play some sort of classical instrument like piano. So, when he’s playing, come up behind him, wrap your arms around his waist, hickey up the side of his neck, and watch him mess up the entire song

Push him against the wall and boldly proclaim he’s yours

Soft touches and tender kisses between rough moments whilst fucking

Eye contact--a lot of it

‘My beautiful prince’ is his favorite compliment/name

He will get on his knees and kiss up your leg and slowly unclothe you if that’s what you desire

Absolute god at using his tongue

Hits that specific spot (regardless of what he’s using: tongue, fingers, dick) and keeps it up until you cum

He gets a bit lost with toys, and seems a bit offended if you bring it up first (he believes he’s all you need)

Will have to reassure him that toys are friends, not foes

After the first few minutes of disgruntlement, he does come to the quick realization of the possibilities

Will pleasure you the way you want with them 4/5 times

Wants to give and receive pretty equally if he’s not in a certain headspace

If you’re between his legs and you kiss his thighs, he’ll blush and tell you to ‘not do that’ only because he’s flustered

#marvel #Marvel Movies #marvel cinematic universe #MARVEL FANDOM #Headcanon #MCU loki #loki #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #fem reader #romance #relationship #loki odison x reader

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trashtalkingracoon · 8 months ago

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ok, so some thoughts about Thrawn: Treason. i'm gonna put all of this under a Read More just in case.

first of all, i must say i absolutely love Eli Vanto and i missed him dearly. having him around again during Treason was just so, so good.

Eli is such a great character. smart, interesting, kind hearted. his thoughts and feelings are just so interesting to me. the frustration after being "good day lieutenant vanto"ed by Thrawn was so funny. i mean, the man gave Eli his diary and then just said GOOD DAY? i'd be mad too.

i also LOVE Ronan. he is so silly with that cape and his antagonistic behaviour towards Thrawn and how he absolutely worships Krennic. i think Ronan is another very interesting character and i appreciate how he is given a second chance by Thrawn. i know Thrawn does that because he sees a purpose for Ronan and i'm glad this purpose is among the Chiss. i feel like there is so much to his character when we break the walls Ronan built to survive the Empire and thrive. he behaves like that because that's what is needed and expected of a Imperial buoroucrat. however, i feel like the way he is "taken" to the Ascendancy is kinda weak.

now, about Thrawn, i really like how he is slowly losing grip of things. he is thrown in the middle of a political showdown he doesn't understand. the grysks are dangerously close. he loses his precious TIE defender fundings. he wins every battle and somehow keeps losing. and yet the wishes to remain in the Empire, because he thinks that the Empire, a fascist regime with a strong military and no political freedom, is the answer to fight off the Grysks. he recognizes the Empire's weaknesses but he needs its military power. but the Grysks get their way by infiltrating slowly in a culture and political structure. military power is not the answer.

anyways. everything about Thrawn fascinates me. he is just this normal dude that keeps pulling shit out of nowhere and somehow he manages to be almost always right. he pulls the craziest plans and is just like "lol trust me". i love him.

now i will read the Ascendancy trilogy which i havent read yet so i might come back with more weird ass long Thrawn posts. also i just wanna say that filoni is a bitch that should read the canon books because they are very good material. "long live the empire" my ass.

#thrawn #ramblings

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boogiewoogieweeb · 6 months ago

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naturally, em, all of your wips sound amazing BUT to choose just one i would LOVE to hear more about “markarth's eleven”!!

hello, helen my darling! 💖 thank you very much for the ask. this one's a bit sentimental, since it's been sitting in my wips/drafts folder since 2018, and every now and then i'll return to it and write a few lines, despite knowing full well the chances of me publishing it are very slim. it's going to get a bit long, so i've put the full synopsis and excerpt under the cut. that being said, i hope you enjoy it!

it's a hobbit trilogy/elder scrolls crossover that features kíli as a member of the thieves' guild. he's tasked by the current doyen of the thieves' guild, gríma wormtongue, to sabotage peace talks between the orcs of orsinium led by azog, and the jarl of markarth, thorin oakenshield, by planting a precious heirloom of the oakenshield clan (iykyk) on azog's person and then anonymously tipping thorin off that azog "stole" it during the summit.

unbeknownst to kíli, however, he's actually the long-lost son of dís, thorin's sister. once in markarth, he meets up with bilbo, a disgruntled former member of the thieves' guild and good friend of kíli's, to enact the plan, but is detained by guard captain fíli after being caught lifting a purse full of coin from one of the representatives, gandalf.

from there, the story dives deeper into the reasons for kíli's separation, the intrigue of why the thieves' guild (or more precisely, gríma) wants the peace talks sabotaged in the first place, and how kíli is going to get himself out of this mess without losing his (or anyone else's) life in the process.

i can tell you that it ends with kíli reuniting with his family, a war between orsinium and skyrim narrowly averted, an interesting twist featuring the legendary gray fox, and some background bagginshield.

and now, for that excerpt i promised:

“A shill job?”

Kili lowered his bow from where he'd been sighting one of the target dummies and frowned at the Doyen beside him. But for the two of them, the practice range was otherwise deserted; most of the other members of the Imperial City's Thieves Guild out on missions; and the remainder long since turned into their various beds, bunks, and cots.

“Orders straight from the top,” Grima said with a nod and an oily smile, before holding out a small packet. Kili knew from long experience that it contained his instructions, all necessary information on the target, enough coin to cover any expenses that might crop up, and most importantly, whatever plant was required to successfully complete the job. “It seems the Gray Fox has high expectations for you, Kili.”

Kili looked from the packet to Grima and back again, narrowing his eyes at the other man's unctuous tone. “I'm a fence, Wormtongue,” he said, ignoring the packet in favour of hefting his bow again, loosely knocking an arrow. “Everyone knows I run goods and protection. I don't go in for incrimination and blackmail.”

“Not even for a substantial reward?” In the torchlight, Grima's features seemed to twist and elongate, and his sallow skin looked almost waxy.

Kili snorted, straightened his posture and drew back his bow arm until he could feel the soft feathers of the fletching brush his cheek. “It'd have to be a pretty spectacular payout then,” he answered snidely, before loosing the arrow in one smooth motion.

It hit the target dead centre with a dull thunk, shaft quivering in the bullseye painted over the dummy's heart.

“Does eight thousand septims sound substantial enough?”

Kili faltered in the act of knocking another arrow, arms going slack as he turned to face Grima, eyes wide.

“Eight thousand septims? For a shill job?” Kili couldn't keep his disbelief from colouring his tone. “Who are we blackmailing then, the Emperor himself?”

“Nothing so easy as that,” Grima replied with a shrewd smirk, and held the packet out towards Kili again. As soon as Kili's fingers closed around it however, Grima gripped him by the shoulder with a bony hand and leaned in close enough that all Kili could smell was stale breath and the stench of lank, unwashed hair.

“Ah, but this is a highly confidential job,” Grima tutted conspiratorially with a mock grimace. “Discretion is essential, you understand, and therefore I can only let you take this if you're serious about it. A payout this size, why, think of all the trouble it could cause if word got out. I'd have every larcenist from here to bloody Akavir baying for it.” He finally let go of Kili, seeming to immediately sink into the shadows of the training room as he did. “So what will it be, Kili?”

Kili thought it over for a moment. That Grima was up to something, of that there was no question. On the other hand though, he'd have to be a stone-blind fool to walk away from eight thousand septims. With that kind of coin, he would finally be able to leave the Imperial City behind for good. Perhaps even retire to the countryside somewhere. A life free of worry, without guards always two steps behind him and the threat of the headsman’s axe hanging in everpresent menace above his neck.

“Well?”

“Give it here,” Kili muttered, swiping the packet. Grima's smile when he did was practically a leer.

---

Later, in the comfort of his own bunk, Kili pored over the information included in his packet, and carefully took note of each and every detail. In the morning, he'd burn all traces of it save for the plant and the coin, as was custom so as not to implicate the Guild in any way. Now though, he studied the mission brief until he could be sure he had it all committed to memory.

The words stood out starkly against the paper:

Target: Azog gro-Guldur, chieftain of Dol Guldur stronghold in the Druadach Mountains. Target will arrive in the city of Markarth in the province of Skyrim during the third week of Frostfall to attend negotiations for a truce between the leaders of the Western Reach bordering High Rock, Orsinium, and Skyrim. Will most likely be traveling with a small escort, moderate- to heavily armed. Intelligence suggests that the target will be put up on the top floor of an inn called the Raven's Roost, in Markarth's market district, to “prevent tensions with visiting Breton delegates”. Evidence to be planted on the target's person prior to the commencement of the welcoming feast, which is to occur on the 28th of Frostfall. City guard must be tipped off anonymously. Suggested time frame – mid-afternoon latest. No extraction possible.

Kili let out a low whistle. Suddenly, the size of the payout made a lot more sense.

Practically all of Tamriel had heard tell of the infamous Azog gro-Guldur.

The Bretons and Nords along the borders of the Western Reach knew him as Azog the Defiler, for his unchecked pillaging of their lands and the slaughter of any who opposed him. To the common folk of Orsinium, he was hailed as a god-king, rumoured to have been sired by Malacath himself; to its elite he was a barbarous madman who threatened to shatter the fragile equilibrium of a city-state constantly poised on the brink of collapse.

Even in Cyrodiil, rumour and conjecture lay thick about him, whispered tales of the orc-king who sought to eradicate Man and Mer alike for past slights against orc-kind.

Kili swallowed around the lump that had risen, unbidden, in his throat.

This was no mere shill job. This was the shill job of his time, possibly of the entire Age. Whoever wanted the orc out of the picture was ready to risk everything they had (and by extension, everything the Guild had as well) in order to succeed.

“No pressure then,” Kili muttered to himself.

#my asks #tag game

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semper-legens · 6 months ago

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55. Books of Blood vol 4-6, by Clive Barker

Owned?: No, library Page count: 450 My summary: A collection of horrific tales and supernatural sights from one of horror's darkest masters. A sinister legend haunts a council estate. A man volunteering as a guinea pig for science experiments starts tearing people apart. A magician's mysterious death prompts strange figures to appear on his doorstep. And a woman recovering from cancer is stalked by death… My rating: 3/5 My commentary:

So, funny story. A while back, a friend and I watched Candyman, the 1992 horror film, and its more recent…sequel? Remake? It's a little between the two, honestly. In looking up the film, we discovered that it was an adaptation of a Clive Barker short story - one set in our native Liverpool, to be precise. I was interested in the changes that the adaptation might have made, since apparently in the original the story is not an allegory for racism and instead has a different focus. She very kindly did some digging and found a pdf of the book that the story was contained within online. But, me being me, I decided to take a quick trip to the basement on the off-chance that we had a copy. And lo and behold, I found it! So here's Clive Barker's Books of Blood - featuring the original Candyman, and a whole lot more.

But because that's the reason I picked it up, let's talk Candyman! The original version of this story is set on a fictional estate in Liverpool, as opposed to the real Chicago projects. The protagonist is researching graffiti, not urban legends, and the Candyman is white and has very minimal backstory. He's an urban legend, same as in the movie, but no origin story is given, he just…is, and needs to prolong his existence through the power of belief. Mary-Anne, the woman from the estate that Helen befriends, actually loses her son, and it's implied that she and the other people on the estate sacrificed him as an offering to the Candyman. Those are the major changes that the story went through to become the film - in all other aspects, it's very similar, and follows roughly the same beats. The big thematic difference is that the story is much more obviously about class than race specifically. Helen going to the run-down, graffiti-covered estate is contrasted immediately with her high-class social circle and their lavish parties, as well as their apparent disregard for the people of the estate. I did take some issue with this, however, as both sides are portrayed pretty stereotypically, with the estate characters in particular being shady, insular, and cultishly connected to the Candyman to the point of child murder. It was a good story…but I think I liked the film more.

The rest of the stories in the collection were a mixed bag, I'm afraid. The best of them straddled the line between the horrific and the ridiculous well; the worst wound up just too silly or too macabre to hold my interest. And within that, there were many outdated views that were just unpleasant to read. One story dealt with the mass-murder of indigenous people in the Amazon - sure, the murderers were meant to be seen as wrong and got their comeuppance, but the framing of the story left a lot to be desired. A couple of them used the idea of men dressing as women as something grotesque and absurd. That's not to say that there was nothing worthwhile in the remaining stories - the one about the man subject to an experimental aphrodisiac who was driven mad by it was weirdly gripping, and the woman stalked by Death who possibly appears as a man before her was spooky and spine-chilling in all the right ways. It's just that there were a lot of things I wasn't so pleased with, and a few of the stories just couldn't keep my interest more than a page or two, I didn't care about what was going on. I'm glad I read it, but I probably wouldn't care to read more.

Next up - my heart is a chainsaw.

#Books of Blood #Clive Barker #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #3

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katesqeckoa · 1 year ago

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➳ (giorgio/val)

Send ➳ and I’ll generate a number between 1- 15 to see what kind of kiss my muse will give yours!

2. a rough kiss against the wall.

Valerie knew it had been a long day the moment Giorgio walked through the front door and barely made eye contact with her. She had seen it before and knew that asking him anything wouldn’t mean he would talk about it. He was frustrated and a man that big could hold plenty of frustration very well. She had seen it in the past and would continue to see it during their future together, but seeing it now didn’t sit well with her just as watching him excuse himself to brush by and walk up to their bedroom didn’t sit well. All he left behind was a brush of a kiss against her cheek before her gaze followed in the direction he walked. There was the thought to leave him be, but that hardly seemed likely and she was sure he knew that wouldn’t happen either. Only a few minutes passed before she pushed open the door to their bedroom and shut it behind her. Her eyes landed on Giorgio, noticing that he didn’t even look up from the seat he had taken on their luxurious bed. He knew it was only a matter of time before she followed and didn’t need to look up to feel her there. "Rough day?" The question didn’t need to be asked, but it slipped out anyway as she neared him. The only response she got was a thoughtful hum while watching him crack his neck to one side. There wasn’t any blood on his hands or clothes this evening, so that seemed like a good thing. Valerie reached out a hand to wrap it around his tie, giving a gentle tug that forced him to look up at her before she pulled a little more as she took a step back and it caused him to step up from the bed. She had known from the beginning there would be days when things went bad or even went terribly wrong in his life. It would be rough and dangerous and it wouldn’t ever stop her from loving him, nor would it stop her from remaining by his side. "Val.." His voice was low as he still followed with her hand remaining gripped around his tie. No matter what happened or who he was and had always been as a man, he would follow her with ease. "Let it out, baby," she spoke when her back reached the nearby wall and she still pulled him flush against her. One strap of her silk top was brushed down her shoulder, giving him access to the side of her neck if he needed it. Legs were spread enough for him to place one of his between hers if he wanted. While anyone might consider him a dangerous man because he was, Giorgio never took more than what she willingly offered and he always gave back ten times what she deserved. "Amore mio," he spoke the words against the side of her neck and it had her letting out a soft gasp. However, she knew he had no intention of staying there. His lips were so quickly on her own that she didn’t have a moment to think about it. The kiss was passionate and rough, making her lose any thoughts she might have had moments ago. Giorgio quickly lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist before slamming his front into her own, causing her to gasp again when her back pressed against the wall. One hand had been pressed to the back of her head the entire time, tangling in her hair and also doing it in a way that protected her head from hitting the wall. While he could be as rough as he needed, he also always protected her at all costs. "I need you." The words had been rough against her lips before she felt his own trail down her neck. Her hand tangled in his hair, keeping him close to give him what he needed. "You have me, baby." A hand wrapped around his chin, lifting his head back up to make eye contact for a brief moment. "Whatever you need," she whispered before pulling him back in to roughly kiss him again, allowing him the chance to take all of her if he wanted.

#tuseranita #moonflowcr #answered.#( giorgio & valerie. )#( v. devil's paradise. )#nsfw.

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memento-morieris-carpe-noctem · 2 years ago

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I was very inspired by this video and decided to write a fanfic

Pursuit

It all started with a chicken. In hindsight William should have known the poultry being outside his house was too convenient, especially tonight of all nights. However meat was expensive, especially for a toy maker during a lean year for the local farmers. Considering what had happened the last time William had tried to cut costs by chopping down his own wood he figured it was time something good happened to him. There had been a pang of guilt as he approached silently on bare feet, this chicken belonged to someone. Yet the ache in his bones with the coming night reminded William that for the sake of everyone in the town he needed fresh meat now.

Catching the bird had been easy though it must have clawed his hand given the searing pain as he restrained the feet. Tucking its body under his arm and grabbing its head William whispered an apology before swiftly snapping its neck. A sigh of relief as the chicken immediately stilled, William had his ‘prey’ for the night without riling himself up. Hold adjusted to the neck so William could inspect his hand only to stiffen.

There wasn’t a single cut but a blistering burn. Eyes snapped to the chicken’s feet to see a silver band around one of the ankles. Blood ran cold as bushes ruffled behind him.

William’s desperate hope that it was his mentor after months apart was dashed as the reason for the separation spoke, “Fine evening for some hunting isn’t it Mr.Carver?”

Clasping his wounded hand to his chest and holding the chicken over it William struggled to find his voice, “S-sir Gaston I thought you left for your manor weeks ago after Mr. Vulpes’ death and that of every wolf for miles.”

Humming as boots grew closer, “I did but a trapper sent word he’d found a stag taken by wolves that couldn’t be any older than the last full moon. I had eyes on the beast from dusk to dawn, he hadn't had a chance to hunt. So that means I missed one just like you were missing sheltering at the town hall that night.”

Taking a steadying breath William turned around hoping his mustache would aid his calm facade, “ With all due respect Sir Gaston but as I told you then I had eaten something that didn’t agree with me and would have been misery for all in-” Words died on his tongue seeing the rifle causally pointed at him by the more well built nobleman.

A gesture with the barrel to the chicken, “Too much raw meat perhaps? Tell me, why do you hide your hand but not your theft?”

Thin frame trembling William swallowed thickly, “ I can pay for it, double if need be for your trouble.” He began side-stepping whilst bargaining, “Just come to my store in the morning and I’ll even add some gifts for your children, my finest work from the display case even!”

Sir Gaston shook his head with a chuckle, “If only you knew the offers I’ve refused you see how funny the market value for a chicken and toys for your life truly is.”

Rifle was adjusted to load it, “Now this town didn’t mourn Mr. Vulpes, he was a horrible man in the short time he was here from what I’ve heard. However you,as the cheerful little toymaker…well I’ll do you and the town the mercy of you just disappearing one night so you might be mourned as a man than wished good riddance as a beast. Now do be a good sport and-” Barrel was clicked to be in line with the stock,” Run.”

And run William did, internally cursing himself for just standing there as the weapon of his demise was loaded. His grip on the chicken was like iron, he couldn’t hunt while being hunted after all. He just needed to lose Sir Gaston so he could eat, change and leave all he’d worked for behind to begin again. A painful notion but survival often was, especially running through the woods blindly as the moon had yet to breach the trees.

Already sore limbs protested William’s mad dash but between his ragged breaths he could hear Sir Gaston stalking after him. Despite the chill wind skin William broke into a sweat, the exertion coupling horribly with the growing fever. A scent came to his heightening noise, that of his mentor and William prayed the old wolf would stay away.

After stumbling on yet another root William caught himself on a tree. Bracing himself on one arm William gripped the bark with his free hand to ease the weight off his screaming feet. Skin gleamed with sweat which stained his shirt while breath came out as rapid panting that only made his lungs burn. He just needed a moment, only a moment, to get his bearings so he could decide what to do next because he couldn’t keep running like this.

Fingers sunk into the tree and slid down to leave furrows in the wood as William removed his hand to look at it. Nails had become claws and in his mouth canines tingled as they sharpened. William’s edging features reminded him flight wasn’t the reaction to fear, fight was as well. The thought of hurting anyone terrified him but not as much as the bullet narrowly missing his side to graze the tree to send splinters flying with a wisp of smoke. Leaping to the side in shock William then bolted.

Pointed ears sought to gauge the distance between Sir Gaston and himself. Perhaps if William could regain the lead he’d wasted he could climb a tree, the canopy now thick from early spring William found himself stumbling more and having to catch himself as dash became more of a reckless scurry.

Hearing only his own footfalls William began desperately looking for a tree. He didn’t notice the forest floor abruptly growing thicker. A moment of confusion from stepping on a metal disk only to release a primal screamof pure agony that sent sleeping birds flying at the snap of a bear trap.

Chest slammed to the ground as William’s right leg was yanked out from under him, sending the chicken flying. Frame trembled and a tug of the leg had William choke down a sob as the already taunt trap dug further into flesh. Getting to his elbows William looked around frantically for the chicken for if he was to die he wouldn’t die proving Sir Gaston right. Zeroing in on the carcass William reached for it, wincing as he stretched with all his might.

A rustle and unfortunately familiar boots side stepped into William’s view. Arm fell to the ground as gaze trailed up Sir Gaston to that merciless face backlit by the moon like some avenging angel.. Friendly mutton chops were far from it as they tilted with a sneer as William let out a pathetic whine

Gun was adjusted as Sir Gaston took aim despite the additional step forward so the end of the barrel nearly met William’s forehead, “I assume you’ve said your prayers during the chase so this is goodbye beast.”

William’s heart thumped against his ribs while it broke, lub dub replaced with why, why, why!? As Sir Gaston put his finger on the trigger William clenched his eyes shut and braced himself for the shot despite the futility. It never came, instead something dropped before him followed by a thud.

Opening his eyes William went wide eyed at the rifle laying on the dirt before him. He immediately grabbed it before his attention snapped to the sounds of fierce struggle filling the air with snarling and cursing. Sir Gaston was pinned under a wolf, barely keeping snapping jaws from his throat. Said wolf being William’s mentor, it had taught his feral side how to hunt, what to hunt and how to avoid dangers, especially humans. It was surreal to see such a cautious wolf mauling someone.

Quickly putting aside his bewilderment William used the barrel of the gun to wrench the bear trap open. He barely got his leg out before metal slipped and the trap took the rifle causing him to fall onto his back with a startled cry. The wound began bleeding anew and somehow the pain was more agonizing. Bringing his leg close with a hiss William curled over it as if he held it tight enough the wound would go away.. Eyes clenched shut as another wound opened, that of the mind.

All William could smell was blood, dripping down his leg, on the ground, coating the trap and then something tasty nearby. He struggled to keep his humanity as eyes opened to show the amber eyes of a wolf which went to Sir Gaston. He was too weak to struggle against the wolf who met William’s gaze expectantly as it was too late to stop the transformation. A cacophony of joints cracking, bones snapping and flesh squelching filled the air. Feet and forearms pulled like taffy for a dual gait. Slumping shoulders tore open the back of William’s shirt while his barreling chest popped the buttons on the front. Suspenders snapped as William’s spine grew longer and frame was packed with lean muscle. A tail peaked over his pants while ears moved up his head, growing longer and more pointed by the moment. All the while ginger hair expanded to cover William with a reddish pelt

Clawed hand pawed at William’s head as his human mind faded while jaws opened to grow longer into a maw filled with sharp teeth. They snapped together loud enough to make the terrified Sir Gaston flinch. William tried to stand up on two legs but yelped at the slightest weight upon his leg. Instead William padded over to a petrified Sir Gaston on three limbs as the humanity in those changed eyes faded into something primal and starving. In the morning William would know shame and disgust but for now all he knew was a threat to himself and his mentor could become a treat. Sir Gaston finally found it in himself to move to shield his face with an arm. It was futile but in an odd twist of fate that huge maw was still more merciful than the hunter had been that night.

Content warning: dead animal, blood, graphic injury

Final animatic for class!

I wanted to challenge myself with something more action based and an original ‘script’ (basically, not based off a pre existing story— like my previous two).

Also slapped on some music so it isnt just awkward silence

Songs:

The Ruse (Lorne Balfe, Tyranny of King Washington ost)

Escape Artist (Lorne Balfe, Tyranny of King Washington ost)

#fanfic #werewolf #video #writing #my writing

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