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mulletpermsicantlookaway · 4 months ago

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The Jockification of Jeremy, Part 4: Chase Starts Changing

(For Parts 1-3 and the earlier stories on which this was based, see the earlier posts)

Chase and I ate lunch together again that day. He attacked his lunch with gusto, and he had seconds again. I’d never seen him eat so much, but when I commented on it, he said that he was always hungry after being sick. To me, he was already starting to look a little bigger, and taller, but I said nothing about that.

His voice wasn’t hoarse or squeaky any longer, but he was still clearing his throat a lot because he thought he sounded as if he had a cold. In reality, he didn’t sound sick at all. His voice was simply lower, but he hadn’t realized it yet. I thought it was cute and very sexy. He kept saying things like, “I still sound sick” and “I sound weird” in a husky baritone that did not go at all with his small frame. I was sure his voice would get lower and sexier still; he was nowhere near being a bro yet. The thought of the changes he was going to go through filled me with an almost unbearable anticipation. I was impatient for him to complete his transformation, and yet I wanted to savor every step along the way.

We didn’t see each other that evening. I had wrestling practice, but the next day was Friday, and I had a basketball game in the evening. Chase was going to come to the game to see me play, and then he was going to spend the night at my house.

After I’d showered and changed, I walked him home with me. Up in my room, I unzipped my duffel bag and took out my dirty clothes. “Here’s a little present for you, babe,” I said, holding out my jockstrap.

“Honestly, Jeremy. That is so nasty! Do you really expect me to wear that?”

“I just thought you might want some fresh essence of Jeremy. It’s the one I wore during the game. How’s the other one I gave you doing?”

“Oh yeah, I have that. I washed it. You’re right; they really do shrink up. I can wear it just fine now. It’s weird; even though it’s clean, I just keep imagining I can smell that jock smell. It just seems to stick with me all the time, even when I’m not wearing it. I even imagine I smell it right after I get out of the shower.”

I didn’t tell him that it really hadn’t shrunk at all; his package was noticeably starting to fill it out. “Why don’t we get our homework for the weekend done now, before it’s late, and then we can relax and have some fun.”

Chase agreed eagerly. He knew exactly what I wanted to do for fun.

After we’d finished, we played some video games, and we went to bed late. It was a weekend, after all. I got Chase to wear my game jock to bed. “It’s funny how it’s all warm and tingly when I get it from you. But are you sure you don’t want to throw this in the hamper? It’s a little, well, gamey. Kind of makes me feel a bit light-headed.”

“You’re just not used to jock smell the way I am, bro.”

“Sure, Jeremy,” he said. “It’s your room,” he yawned. “If you can put up with it, so can I.” He was getting sleepy. Soon we were both out.

The next morning, I woke up before he did and took a good look at him in the early morning light. He was starting to show signs of some muscle tone. His legs were noticeably hairier, his package much larger, especially his balls. His armpits were a jungle, and soft hairs were starting to grow up to his belly button and around his nipples. His Adam’s apple was bigger and sharper than ever, and his face was looking scruffy enough to benefit from a shave. I’d better talk to Coach Sanders again on Monday, I thought. If Chase was starting to change this rapidly, he might be ready to talk to the coach before the week was out.

After he was up and out of the shower, he said in deep, smooth, sexy rumble, “Dude, have you, like, got any mouthwash or anything like that? I don’t know what’s up with my voice, but maybe gargling will help.”

Gargling didn’t help, but I just kept telling him that he sounded fine to me, which he did. I loved his sexy new voice, but Chase kept thinking he sounded weird. He went home after lunch. As it happened, I had a wrestling meet in the afternoon, and, while we texted several times, I didn’t see him again until Monday.

On Monday when I met Chase for lunch, I was almost shocked at how quickly he was changing. His pants were noticeably tight and short on him, and his shirt was tight as well. A few of the bros were looking at us funny, some of them with knowing looks. James and Steve were obviously trying not to look, but Derek and Tyler were just as obviously staring. With all that, Chase seemed not to notice his ill-fitting clothes. He seemed mostly like himself, but he acted a little spacey, as if he was having trouble concentrating. I decided I’d better talk to Coach Sanders right away. I managed to catch him between classes. He agreed that he should try to talk to Chase either tomorrow or the next day. He also assured me he would make his own observations before the end of the school day.

I didn’t hear from Chase at all that night, which was a little worrying. But the next morning, he texted me right before school: “Can u walk me to skul? Feel strange.”

I rushed to his house as fast as I could. When I got there, he looked a bit taller than the day before, but what I really noticed was his face. He was less cute but way hotter, and my cock responded by springing to attention. But he looked sweaty and pale, and when he saw me, he said, “Oh, Jeremy, babe, I’m so glad to see you! Something’s, like, really wrong with me. I feel so weird!”

He sounded pitiful and sexy and lost at the same time, and I was heartbroken. I hadn’t wanted him to suffer like this, and I needed to make it right. I wanted desperately to hold him close, cuddle, and take his fears away, but if I really wanted to help him, I needed to get him to Coach Sanders as fast as I could.

“Oh, babe, I am so sorry you’re feeling like this! I can help you,” I said, “but do you think you can walk to school with me? I can get you help as soon as we get there.”

“Um,” he considered. “Yeah, fresh air. Fresh air should help. I can make it. I think. My shoes are tight. They’re so fucking tight. Why are my shoes tight?”

Encouraging him every few steps, I managed to get him to school without an incident, but the farther we walked, the less Chase seemed to know where he was or what he was doing. It was good he was still a pretty small dude, because toward the end I had to half lift and half drag him along. Fortunately, as we got to the edge of the campus, I saw my bro Derek standing with his girlfriend Becky, talking to Tyler and Brittney. Zach Davis was standing there, too.

“Yo, Derek, Tyler, Zach!” I said, “Hey, Becky, Brittney,” I nodded at the girls. “Bros, could you do me a solid? Could you help me get my bud to Coach Sanders’s office? He’s a little out of it right now. I’m sure Coach can help.”

Derek and Tyler exchanged a meaningful look, and Zach stared at Chase, considering, as if he’d never really seen him before. Derek took charge. “No worries, bro,” he said. “We’ll take care of him. Tyler, why don’t you see Brittney and Becky to class, and I’ll catch you later. Zach, could you run and find Coach Sanders and let him know we’d like to see him in his office right away.”

Whatever he may have been thinking, Zach took off immediately with long, loping strides like the running back he was. In a flash, he’d disappeared inside the building. Tyler had quickly put his bulky frame between the girls and Chase, and he seemed anxious to get Brittney and Becky away from the scene as soon as possible. As they moved toward the main entrance, Becky seemed to be trying to get a look at what was going on, although I’m not sure how much success she had trying to peek around a large, immovable object like Tyler.

Derek was an even larger immovable object. He put a huge, calloused hand firmly on Chase’s shoulder, stared him right in the face and said loudly, “Dude, little bro, let’s go for a little walk, eh? Not much farther.” Chase gave no indication that he heard, but he did as he was told. “Don’t worry, bro,” Derek said in a quiet aside to me, “I can pick him up and carry him if I have to.”

“You’re fucking awesome, Derek,” I said. “Thanks so much. I got him all the way here by myself, but I’m not as big as you are, and I’m almost worn out.”

“No worries, bro. He’s still a little dude. Not as little as he was last week, though. Maybe in a couple more months even I might have some trouble picking him up, you think?”

Stumbling between the two of us, we shuffled and half-carried him to the coach’s office. Coach Sanders was waiting for us.

“Chase, son,” he said pleasantly. “I’m so glad you came to see me. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I think you’d better sit down on the couch until you feel a little better.” Chase looked at him blankly. He hadn’t said a word since we’d started for school, and he still gave no sign of knowing where he was or what was going on. Coach Sanders had us bring Chase through the locker room to the room with the old couch and the TV set. Then he brought Chase a small bottle of something that looked like a sports drink. “Son, I think you’re a bit dehydrated. Drink some of this.” Chase still said nothing, gazing at him with unfocused eyes, but when the coach put the bottle to his lips, he drank several swallows. After that, he seemed calmer. He looked more relaxed and less pale and sweaty. “I think you’d better sit here a bit longer until you’ve fully recovered. Don’t worry about your classes; I’ll take care of that.” The coach continued, “Let me set up the TV for you. I have a video that I think you’ll enjoy.” He turned on the TV and queued up the video. Chase sat silent in the middle of the couch, eyes locked on the screen, his eyes now half closed.

“Derek, Jeremy,” the coach said more briskly, “Those clothes of his are too tight; he’s going to need room to breathe. Derek, could you grab a pair of shorts and a tank top from the spare practice uniforms, and Jeremy, get his pants and shirt off.”

Chase limply allowed me to take off his too-tight shoes, undo his pants and pull them off. Under his pants, he was wearing nothing but a very well-filled jockstrap, undoubtedly one of mine. Derek and I slid a pair of basketball shorts on over the jock. Removing his shirt was easier, and then we put the spare tank top on him. Coach Sanders put a headset on his ears and adjusted the audio, then he dimmed the lights.

“Is he going to be all right, Coach?” I asked in a whisper. “I’m really worried about him. He seems so out of it.”

“He’ll be fine, big guy, don’t worry! Derek, you can head to class now, but check in with me a little later, please. And thanks for your help, as always! Jeremy, plan to drop by right after school, and then you can take Chase with you to practice. He probably won’t remember much of what happened today.”

When Derek was gone, the coach added, “I’ll tell you a secret, Jeremy; Derek reacted just like Chase, and you can see how strong Derek is. Chase just started to change physically a bit faster than his mind could handle.”

It was easy for Coach Sanders to tell me not to worry, but he seemed completely calm and in control, so I tried to put my fears to rest. Again, though, I wondered what he was trying to tell me. Derek hadn’t always been a jock? That was hard to believe. Seriously, the guy was the dictionary definition of a stereotypical jock. If Derek hadn’t always been a jock, when had he changed, and what had he been like before? I mean, he was a super nice guy and an amazing football player, but even for a jock he seemed a little dense. What if Chase turned out dumb? I’d do anything for him, of course, including helping him with his homework, but how much help could I be? As Coach Sanders had pointed out weeks ago, I wasn’t the smartest guy in school. At best, I’d been a B- student before. My grades hadn’t really dropped any since my change, but school just seemed harder with all the practices and games on my schedule. I was keeping up, and I didn’t, you know, feel slow or anything, but classwork just seemed not to come easily anymore. Part of the problem, I had to admit, was that my only motivation for going to school was playing sports and hanging out with my bros. Maybe Chase was right; maybe I really was just a dumb jock now.

Whether I really was dumber or not, my classwork for that day was not going to help any of my grades; I might as well have skipped all my classes. All I could think about was Chase. The worst was my modern European history class. I had completely zoned out during the teacher’s lecture. Suddenly he flung a question at me, but I didn’t know it until some nerd, Ben something-or-other, I think, actually had to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Hey, wake up, you dumb jock, he’s asking you a question!”

It was humiliating. Of course, I had no idea what the question was, and I’m sure I sounded every bit as stupid as I felt. The whole class laughed. At least it woke me up and got me out of my funk for a bit, but I was so mad I could hardly see straight. I spent the rest of the class imagining what I was going to do to hurt that little shit Ben later, but by the time class ended, I decided he wasn’t worth the trouble. Ben wasn’t important; Chase was. Once we were out in the hall again, I glared at Ben and threw a fake punch that made him flinch, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

I could hear one of his little nerd friends, Devin, I think, saying something like, “Geez, Ben, don’t rattle the jocks’ cages. You’re just asking for it. Seriously,” he continued in a kind of stage whisper, “you don’t want to be next on their list.” Ben asked what the fuck he was talking about, and Devin said in the same whisper, “Not here, Ben, just drop it. I’ll tell you later.” And then to me he said in a more normal voice, “Ben’s really sorry, uh, Jeremy. He didn’t mean it. No need to get him in trouble.” And he hustled Ben down the hallway.

I yelled after them, “Next time it’ll be your face, nerd!”

By lunchtime, I was feeling about as low as I could remember ever feeling. There was no sign of Chase, but I didn’t expect him, of course. I sat with some of the other bros, but I just stared at my food and didn’t say much. I kept imagining people were talking about me and Chase behind my back, even though I thought only Derek and maybe Zach really knew what was going on. I didn’t see either one of them anywhere in the lunchroom. But right when lunch was ending, Derek suddenly appeared. He came up to me and said, “Look, bro, stop worrying about Chase. Coach is taking care of him. He’ll be fine. You’ll see him at practice. Trust me, bro. And Becky told me about what happened to you in your history class. Don’t worry; I talked to Coach about that, too. Your bros’ll always have your back.”

I knew Derek was trying to help, and I really appreciated it, but it was hard to be okay with Chase suffering because of me. I felt worse and worse as the afternoon dragged on. Zach reappeared later in the afternoon. He came up to me in the hall between periods and said, “Bro, cheer up, okay? Seriously, your boyfriend’s really cute, and he’ll only be getting cuter. Stop moping, dude!”

I finally reminded myself that the important thing was whether Chase was happy. I hoped he would be, but I wouldn’t find out until after school. I tried to psych myself up for how hot Chase would be once he was fully a jock, and how great it was going to be to share the same interests again the way we did before. But when the last bell rang, my heart sank. Making my way slowly down to the locker room, I wasn’t looking forward to practice at all this time. I felt as if I were going to the gallows for my own execution.

To be continued

#jockification #nerd to jock #jock transformation #jock tf #mental change

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mayajadewrites · 11 months ago

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Never Say Never - Suguru Geto x Reader

Chapter Three: Study

Chapter Summary: Suguru and reader go to the café to study for finals, and we get a bit of Geto's POV in this chapter! Smut coming soon hehe

ao3

"Sugu, you want to study with me tonight? Our favorite café?" I looked at Suguru across the hallway. Finals are coming up and you're nowhere near ready.

"You don't have a date tonight?" His eyes never left his phone screen.

"A date with my textbooks." I roll my eyes. "It's a yes or no question."

"I have nothing better to do." Suguru slid his phone in his pocket, turning his back to me.

Since Gojo's birthday, Suguru has been quieter than usual. He's retreated to his room, which is arguably his safe haven, and is doing God knows what.

Debatably, I miss my best friend. I've been spending some of my time with Toji, getting to know him and avoiding the two of us in bed together. I'm not the type to sleep with just anyone, I need mental, emotional, and physical connection.

I slip on my favorite oversized sweater with jeans and combat boots. I find my tote bag and put it over my shoulder, waiting for Suguru at his door.

He opened his bedroom door and look startled when I was waiting for him.

"Sugu, stop being weird." I cross my arms over my chest. "I've barely seen you. We've barely seen you."

"I'm fine." His backpack hit his back before he brushed past me. I felt his arm touch my skin, leaving goosebumps.

The café is pretty quiet, just the way Suguru and I like it. He orders my coffee for me and brings it to our table. I pull out my laptop and open up my assignments, sighing at the screen.

Suguru sat in front of me, bringing his laptop out of his backpack. I glanced at him before he could notice, observing his chocolate eyes.

Why am I staring at Suguru?

His face looks like he was crafted by Greek Gods, so much work must've went into creating him.

I've always found Suguru handsome. I would never admit it out loud, but it's true. He's tall, has the most beautiful long black hair, and his face is one that I could stare at forever.

He could sense me staring at him and my heart almost stops.

"Do you like what you see?" Suguru smiles for the first time in forever. His long black hair cascades past his shoulders with a little bun holding some pieces. His front pieces frame his face, moving with his words.

I blush, going back to my typing. I've never seen Suguru like this. I've never looked at him in a way that made my core pulse with need.

When he looks down at his laptop screen, I look at Suguru again. He's wearing a black t-shirt that barely covers his biceps. My eyes follow the veins on his arms to his large hands, his fingers typing quickly.

I wish those fingers were in me.

Am I just horny because Toji and I haven't slept together yet?

A message pops up on my screen, interrupting my thoughts.

Sugu: Stop eye-fucking me before I take you in the bathroom right now.

I freeze, trying my best not to let Suguru know that he's not only right, but I wish I could jump his bones right this very second.

Me: Over my dead body.

Sugu: That can be arranged.

I can't help but feel some sort of attraction to Suguru at this moment. Maybe I've always felt this way and didn't do anything about it, but I'm not gonna be the one to admit my feelings first. They might be fleeting feelings anyways.

Geto

God, is she gorgeous.

I've had a crush on her since we were in high school, but being best friends kind of ruins any idea of a relationship. Losing her would be like losing half of me, which at the time I didn't think was a good gamble.

But when I saw her with Toji, a man who looks like he has a roster of women at his beck and call, those feelings resurfaced and I felt them in my mouth.

To be fair, I've brought plenty of women home. Mostly one night stands, and I know she heard me with them. I never thought about her feelings towards that because my romantic feelings were idle. I assumed she was fucking men outside of the house, so my worries subsided.

Now is different. Now, I want to kiss her every time I see her.

Now I want to feel myself inside of her.

Now I want to build something with her.

It might be too late, but oh well.

She took a sip of her coffee, leaving foam on her lips. "You have something right here," I took my finger and wiped it off her lips, then sucking on my own finger. "Cinnamon."

My dick was already hard thinking about what her pussy tastes like and eating her till she's screaming.

"Suguru." She sat up, fixing her hair. "What are you doing?"

"Helping my friend not look stupid." I smirked, going back to my typing.

She sighed, going back to her studying. Her tan skin glowed against the light in the café, and her hair framed her face beautifully as it made its way down past her chest. I watched her chest move up and down as she breathed, slowly and relaxed. I could watch her all day.

The bell to the café rang, signaling someone walking in.

Of fucking course.

You

"Hello gorgeous." Toji sliced your thoughts, pulling a chair up to your table. "I was on my way to my friends house when I thought I'd stop by for a coffee."

"Hi, Toji." I smiled as he kissed me on the cheek. Suguru's face was like stone. "This is Suguru Geto, my best friend and roommate."

"Nice to meet you. Toji Fushiguro." Toji reached his hand out, half smiling.

Suguru didn't say a word, but took his hand roughly, shaking it.

I watched the two as they interacted without saying anything verbal to each other.

An unspoken argument.

"Want me to stop by tonight?" Toji finally spoke, turning to me. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too. Not tonight, I'm not feeling my best." I waved my hand. "I'll text you." I reassured him with a smile.

"Okay, I gotta get going. Have a good day beautiful, and it was nice meeting you Suguru."

Suguru nodded, still not speaking.

Toji got his coffee and left after what seemed like ages.

I kicked Suguru's leg under the table, receiving a glare in return. "What the hell was that?"

"Did you want me to hug him?"

"No, I wanted you to at least be nice."

"Why?"

"I'm nice to all the women you bring home." I cross my arms over my chest. "I even pretend I can't hear you fucking their brains out."

"Touché." Suguru nods. He leans forward at the table, insinuating I should do the same. "That should be you." He whispers.

Chills are sent down my spine as he says that, my arousal dampening my panties.

This man is teasing me and having fun with it.

"I'd rather fuck a man with a dick bigger than 4 inches." I whisper.

"Oh baby, add about 5 inches to that." He winked, and I think my pussy heard that before me, because I was soaking.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

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randaccidents · 8 months ago

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I've got an idea, but, I don't remember if it was mentioned (ah yeah, me and my memory of a pebble)

Alright so.

Heart with crutches.

That's all

That the whole idea

OK I HAVE BEEN. LOOKING INTO THIS TOPIC FOR AWHILE SORTA. Because my Tridential Whole!Soul ALSO has muscle weakness so I was looking up whether crutches or walking canes would be better (neither so I just made him the most stubborn stupid man alive)

But yes yes I have been quietly considering that in the background of doing the main portions of this AU. Since Heart ends up with 4 weak limbs that randomly knock out on him occasionally, and lets be honest he would want to wander the house instead of being stuck in his room all day. Let him have his hobbies!

Anyways my long ass thought process that came out of this below. Fair warning it is DEFINITELY going to be inaccurate because this is like.... an hour of research? And I am Not a mobility aid user At All.

I'm going to assume that Heart is fully weight-bearing, meaning he can place full weight on his legs (even if theyre weak)

Off topic, I did debate a walking cane but. All Four Limbs. Yeah that's not gonna work out. I also debated a wheelchair and then realized that they would have to remodel the whole dang house AND that Heart is definitely pretty vocal about having access to Things. (and also that he's nowhere near ready to accept what he's lost yet. that he's not going to be the same Heart)

On one hand, crutches (hospital standard issue variant, very often seen in media). Very nice, very cool, but imo unwieldy and not meant for lifetime use, especially in their messy ass house. Apparently they hurt the elbows if used wrong or for extended periods of time? Plus the fact that it would limit Heart a lot since he would have to not drop them aaaaaand he has a little problem called weak arms as well. And idk something about those crutches made my brain go "you've seen a better version of crutches before". No offence to crutch users its just that my brain KNOWS there's something that fits better.

And then I FINALLY remembered what the fuck I was thinking about when it came to crutches.

ELBOW CRUTCHES/FOREARM CRUTCHES

This kind! (dont axe me its on a Creative Commons license I am LEGAL)

The vibes fit better. He's still blatantly a crutch user but its more flexible? There's bars for him to catch himself on or lean his weight entirely on the occasion when all four of his limbs decide to clock out on him. (reads medical guide) And apparently elbow crutches are among the most versatile mobility aid? I did Not know that. Also the entire "weight thrown off because he no longer has to lean forward to balance out the weight of his wings" thing.

Although as a little bit of a downside, Heart doesn't accept he needs crutches initially. He's fine guys he swears. He can walk on his own, he doesn't need some stupid sticks to walk just because his legs are shaky today (immediately falls over trying to walk and almost cracks his head on the counter).

Heart takes awhile to accept that he lost something in his decision and he does, in fact, require mobility aids now. (That realization is its own bout of mourning and grief) But he will learn and adapt and accept his new normal in time. Maybe one day he will see them as just as much a part of himself as his wings once were.

(On a more lighthearted note Heart absolutely is still a gremlin that pokes Perseverance and Penitence with his new in-built poking sticks. Whacks them on the head from the sofa. Smacks the remote off the table when he sees Perseverance reaching for it because The Stick is Longer. Little things that make the crutches a stand-in for his wings. Perseverance is incredibly vexed by the fact that he cant just. Take the crutches away because that's just mean to Heart. But also please stop hitting his head and saying "bonk".)

So yes. Heart with crutches :3. Very good idea thank you.

#reply #Heartless AU #Heartless story #rand.hc #points I have been quietly thinking about this and you spur me to actually write this shit down #but yes yes Heart with crutches #because he is now permanently disabled isnt he #and he has to accept that and stop avoiding it

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imhereformysciencefriends · 2 years ago

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Uncle Techno & Michael

@peerpressureweek DAY 7 WE DID IT

Techno was used to Ranboo coming into his house without knocking. It just wasn’t a sustainable practice, seeing as only a small handful of people lived out this far, and Ranboo needed frequent access to Techno’s basement for glass. Techno was pretty much used to it by now, his ear and sometimes his dogs twitching in Ranboo’s direction before laying back down, but that was usually while the sun was up. The birdS would typically be singing. Ranboo did not often careen through Techno’s door mid-blizzard, wind howling and bundle clutched close to his chest.

“Ranboo?” Techno asked as he staggered backwards, using his shoulder blades to slam the door shut. This put distance between himself and Techno’s other guest, “Tubbo?”

“Hiiii, Technoblade! Sorry to barge in like this?” Tubbo tried. The two were still awkward around each other, despite their stint as The Revengers, living right next to each other, and Ranboo’s revival.

“Yeah, no, welcome. Make yourselves at home. In my home. Which is, notably, not your own?”

“Furnace went out,” Ranboo muttered by way of explanation, setting his bundle down in front of Techno’s fireplace, nudging Steve over with a foot. “I would be fine, but Tubbo and Michael are warm blooded.”

“True,” Technoblade intoned, watching Ranboo half-unswaddle Michael so he could get a little more direct firelight. “And you picked my house?” Wait, no, that sounded wrong, “Not that I’m complainin’! Not that I am complainin’, you know I’m always happy to have you—all three of you—but, you know, Phil is also right here and Connor’s closer to you.”

Tubbo snorted. “Connor is going to freeze to death. I don’t know how he hasn’t yet.”

Techno once again declined to bring up the fact that Connor was already a ghost. “That’s fair. That’s fair. He doesn’t get a lot of uhhhh, yeah, yeah, probably not his house then.”

Ranboo shrugged. “I just knew we needed to go somewhere warm and this was the first place I thought of.”

He was a little different, since coming back. Less shy, maybe, or it could be that he was just more inclined to say the things he was feeling without worrying about other people’s reactions. In this situation, the fact that Ranboo thinkin’ of Techno first totally and definitely didn’t warm his heart at all. Did not warm his heart at! All!

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome to stay until the storm blows over. I was just about to head to bed.”

“Right. Should we, uh,” Tubbo looked around the room. Techno’s couch was nice, but hardly big enough to fit two people and a toddler.

“You can join me in the bed. It should be big enough for all of us.” Techno had built it the same day he’d rescued Phil from house arrest, the man’s impressive wingspan requiring a larger bed than most and the fact that the two of them needed to share (at least until Phil’s own house was built) meaning that Techno’s previous bed had been nowhere near large enough. Even after Phil had moved out into a home of his own, Techno had been too lazy to switch the bed back, so now he had a small kingdom’s worth of mattressed land ready for use. Plus, Ranboo was skinny and Michael was a baby, how much room could the three of them possibly take up?

“Up!” Michael demanded, facing Techno and not, you know, one of his dads. Techno grumbled something that probably wouldn't have saved his reputation even if they had heard it, and picked up the bundle of babyboy and blankets. Michael made a happy and altogether too high pitched noise, very close to Techno’s ear, mind you, and Techno grumbled again.

“Alright, bedtime for the children in my house.”

“We are both adults.”

“Sure, Ranboo, up you go.”

The big bed did in fact fit them all, Techno with his back to the wall and Michael happily snuggled up in the middle. Techno tried to find a good place for his arms that didn’t wind up draped on top of the small child. He had big arms! What if he crushed the kid!! Michael was so small, Technoblade wasn’t used to small creatures. What if his arm was heavy enough he crushed Michael’s little chest underneath the weight of it and his pupil’s kid died?

Tubbo, fortunately, did not share Techno’s hangups, bundling Michael close to his chest, and Ranboo’s arms twined around Tubbo, staring at Techno from over the young man’s hair.

Techno squinted at him.

Ranboo seemed only more amused.

Techno huffed. “You tell me what to do with my arms then.”

Ranboo laughed, and while he was definitely laughing at Techno, it didn’t feel mean. “He’s a kid, not honeycomb. You can snuggle him,” Ranboo allowed, and Techno snorted again. But, delicately, he rested one big hand on top of Michael’s little hip, and the snoozing child gave a happy little chuff that made Techno’s stomach flip flop about.

“There, see? You didn’t even break him.”

“Sarcasm from my own pupil. From my own pupil! I can’t believe this.”

It got a small, sweet laugh from Tubbo, and Techno did not feel hopeful and soft at that, either. Any accusations or lies leveled against his emotional state would be dealt with via duel to the death. Ranboo nuzzled against his husband’s hair.

Tubbo drifted off next, and Techno was fairly surprised at that, given how highstrung and paranoid the guy was. It was either a testament to just how tired he was, or that Techno had mended the bridge with him a little better than he’d thought.

“Thanks,” Ranboo murmured, quiet and soft into the night, low enough to not wake the others.

Techno made a soft grunt of his own, questioning.

Ranboo’s hand caressed his sleeping child, and then his spouse. “Trust doesn’t come easy to Tubbo.” Yeah. Techno knew that. “I rarely get to see him relax. It means something. So. Thanks.”

Techno really needed to stop underestimating Ranboo’s ability to touch his heart. Really. Just. Mmmmmm, sleep, not lookin’ at feelings head on, sleep time, goin’ to bed.

But even as successfully as Techno was at Not Thinking About It, he was the last awake in the quiet room, Michael snuffling against him.

#dream smp #prpweek #technoblade #ranboo #tubbo #michael the piglin #dsmp #peerpressureduo #peer pressure duo #uncle techno #my writing #mine #haro writes

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sorcharavenlock · 1 year ago

Text

9. Stargazing.

Nea leaves and I tidy up, while Becca gets ready for bed. When I'm done, I can't find Loki anywhere in the house.

I finally spot him by the waterfall near the house. He seems so lonely.

I walk over. "It's pretty here. I never really noticed," I say. "Are you okay?"

"Just a bit of a setback, nothing that will stop me." Loki's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"The stars are beautiful tonight. Would you like to gaze at them with me? I could do with the company."

I nod in surprise. I didn't think he liked me all that much!

(Find someone who looks at you the way I look at Loki here. Seriously!)

I follow him to the little clearing next to the house and lie down next to him. Together we look at the stars for a while.

"You must think me mad," Loki says after a while. "To try and return back to life."

"I don't think you are. I think you weren't ready to let go yet," I say softly.

"There are so many things I have never experienced, so many sights I haven't seen. For so long I was waiting for my life to begin. And just when it was about to, it was cruelly snuffed out." Loki sighs.

"What was it like?" I ask.

"Painful. scary. Lonely. And then there was nothing. At least for a while."

I want to comfort him, but I am not sure how he would react if I did. He is so proud and arrogant. But, I realise, he is also very lonely.

"You said you walked out of Niflheim?"

"Without Hela, the place devolved into pure chaos. There was no one to stop me. So I left.

I ended up in a place between life and the afterlife. A vast nothingness where the passing of time could not be felt.

And slowly, I felt myself fading. I was trapped with nowhere to go."

His eyes meet mine.

"And then I heard your voice calling me. I followed it and arrived here, bound to you. You are what keeps me here, what grounds me here. Without that bond, I shall surely fade to nothing..."

"I'm not going to let you go," I promised. "I won't send you back, I promise."

Loki eyed me for a moment as if trying to read if I meant it, and then he nodded.

"I wish I could hug you." It escapes from my lips before I can stop myself.

"I can't remember the last time I got a hug," Loki muses. "not since... not since Mother held me just before Thor returned from his banishment."

Suddenly, he stands up and holds out his hand.

"If I can interact with material objects if I concentrate enough, I can't see why I can't touch a mortal," he smiled.

The first time my hand goes right through him.

But the second time...

The second time we get it right!

Only for a moment, but I can actually feel his touch, even if it is terribly cold.

"Thank you," Loki whispers. "I haven't had a friend in a long time..."

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sea-owl · 2 years ago

Text

Okay first one shot for the older Penelope Au posted on AO3. I do have it under the read more as well if you don’t want to go to AO3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43407499

Tell me if you heard this one before. A maid enters a brothel searching for a gentleman, well wait, that's not quite right.

A gently bred lady disguised as a maid enters a brothel looking for a gentleman.

"Ben get up!" Penelope hissed kicking her best friend.

Benedict groaned from where he laid. Groggily he squinted up at the red head. "Pen?"

"Yes, it is me you boorish man. Get up or I shall leave you for Anthony to find."

Benedict glared up from his spot on the floor. "You wouldn't dare."

"Would I not?" Penelope challenged; arms crossed.

"I am your dearest friend!" Benedict argued as he sat up.

Penelope smirked. "That is why I found you before Anthony did. Now get dressed. Your mother’s masquerade is tonight, and you are nowhere near ready."

Benedict groaned but proceeded to look for his shirt. "What are you doing this part of town anyway?"

"In part looking for you."

Benedict raised an eyebrow, but neither of them asked nor offered the information of the other reason Penelope was near the brothels. Five minutes later the pair loaded up into the hired hack that was waiting for them. Once safely tucked into the hack Penelope began taking parts of her maid's uniform off such as the ruffled neckline. Then adding a jacket to have the dress appear more one a lady would wear.

"Quite the scandalous scene you're making Ms. Featherington," Benedict smirked. "Undressing in front of a gentleman."

Penelope rolled her eyes and then tossed a small bag of coins at Benedict. "We've known one another since we were both in leading strings Benedict, propriety left screaming years ago. Besides if we are counting scandals your family currently holds the record."

Benedict snickered, until he weighed the pouch in his hand again. "This feels heavier than normal."

Penelope shrugged. "Consider it a bonus for being my longest employee."

Benedict pretended to look touched. "What an honor my dear lady."

They managed to get back to Mayfair without being seen. Now they had to sneak Benedict back into Bridgerton House without Anthony taking notice.

“Benedict Bridgerton where have you been?”

Well shit, Anthony never waited at the door before.

Benedict was distracted.

“Ben are you okay?” Penelope asked.

Benedict blinked out of whatever daze he was in before turning back towards her. “Yes, I am perfectly normal.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you’ve nearly stepped on my toes three times since the dance started.” Penelope quickly moved her foot back from Benedict’s oncoming boot. “Make that four.”

Benedict looked away guility. “I am sorry Pen.”

“What has you so distracted?” Penelope, finally able to look in the direction that had held her best friend’s gaze.

Oh. Well the lady in silver is quite beautiful.

“Ben,” Penelope said, her voice teasing. “Do you happen to fancy her?”

“What Pen . . .I-”

Oh, Benedict was tongue tied, just like a schoolboy with his first crush. It was adorable. Penelope led their dance off the floor. Ending it by shoving Benedict in the direction of the lady in silver. “Go talk to her, or I will tell Anthony where I found you this morning.”

Benedict didn’t need much more encouragement before he took off.

“Did my brother really just leave you here alone for the wolves?”

“Colin?" Penelope did a double take. "My how've you have grown during your travels! What a fine young man you've become."

She starts to reach up to ruffle his hair, just like she used to do when he was still shorter than her and gripped her skirts for her attention. Colin bends down a little, leaning into her touch ever so slightly.

He looks down at her other hand, her left hand. No ring. So, his rake of a brother had still not proposed yet. Why was he keeping Penelope waiting for so long?

"It's good to see you again Pen," Colin greeted her. "I just got back actually.”

"Just in time for the masquerade," Penelope teased. "What a devoted son.”

"Anything for mother" Colin said, leading Penelope’s arm through his as they began to take a walk around the room. If he sounded a little desperate to have Penelope's attention on him even for just a moment longer, well she didn't need to know that. "How have you been?"

Penelope nodded. "I have been well. Well other than Benedict practically dragging me all over London to save him from Anthony’s wrath” Penelope giggled. "And since I'm officially a spinster-"

Colin stopped walking. "Pen! You've been declared a spinster? But you're only five and twenty!"

Penelope shrugged, like she's resigned to this fact. "I've never had suitors; everyone knows I'd be a spinster in the end. Why delay in declaring it?”

Everyone believes you are waiting on Benedict to finally mature. We all thought the two of you had an understanding.

Colin wanted to punch his brother, especially after seeing Penelope watch his ungrateful self dance with another woman.

“If it doesn’t trouble you Pen, would you honor me with a dance later this evening?” Colin asked her.

“Of course, Colin,” Penelope said, holding out her dance card.

Colin looked down at her card, only one other name was on in, Benedict’s. Good, that means Colin has no competition and can take as many dances as he pleases. Colin quickly signed his name off on three, one of the dances being a waltz.

“I shall you find when the next dance starts,” Colin promised before taking off to find Anthony.

Colin had to find Anthony.

How dare Benedict allow the ton to declare Penelope a spinster! What was he waiting for? He's finished university, is talented enough with his art that he could make a living off it, and he knows there is a piece of property that is practically Benedicts out in the country. Is he that much of a rake that he'll let Penelope suffer?

He doesn't deserve her! She has waited years for him, and this is the thanks she gets?

Luckily Colin managed to find Anthony just as he was finising up a conversation with their mother.

“Anthony!”

"Colin-"

"Come next season I am participating in the marriage mart."

Benedict had his chance, now it's Colin's turn to court Penelope. But first he needs to plan.

Benedict pulled Penelope aside after the ball. “Pen I’m in love! You must write in Whistledown that I wish to find my lady in silver.”

“Benedict, what the fuck?”

#older penelope au #cross posted on ao3 #bridgerton #besties benedict and penelope #this feels chaotic #good #benedict bridgerton #penelope featherington #slight polin #hinted benophie

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kitsune-ichika · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 9: Brother

[December 2, 2006] 2:36 pm

Its been two weeks since Mai had traveled to Saint Petersburg Russia with Sergey. Still no luck within the case. Nothing really added up. It was still early afternoon, around lunch time.

“It's been quite a long day, want to grab some lunch?” asked Sergey.

“Sure, I suppose it would be nice to get my mind off things for a little while.” Mai sighed.

“I understand, the last two weeks have been quite busy and yet still not a single breakthrough”

“Indeed, I am rather surprised that there are still no clues but more people are still dying.”

“Well with time we’ll figure this out I’m certain,”

“I give the case maybe a year if within that time we don’t discover any new information. I think it would be best to give up on the case.”

“But more innocent lives will be taken!”

“I realize that, but there is absolutely nothing we can do about that, whatever happens, happens.”

Sergey looked ready to protest but only gave a heavy sigh. The pair walked down the streets heading for a cafe. They quickly went to order, got their food and drinks, ate their food and back headed out. While leaving Mai noticed Sergey’s wallet tumbling out of his pocket so she quickly rushed over to pick up the open wallet lying face down on the ground.

“Sergey you dropped your wallet-” She began before pausing as she accidentally noticed the photo inside the wallet. The photo was of a family, the mom, dad, and three young boys in the photo. Wait, this must be the photo Sergey stared at back when paying at the restaurant back in Vietnam. Mai thought to herself she looked at the photo.

“Ah good catch, sorry I’m really clumsy sometimes hehe.” Sergey said and noticed Mai staring at the photo.

“Is this your family?” Mai asked, looking at Sergey curiously.

“W-well yes, it was my family at least..” Sergey said a little sadness was visible in his usually excited blue eyes.

“Is everything okay? What happened to your family? Although if your not comfortable with sharing that's also fi-”

“Don’t worry it’s fine really plus most of the events happened quite a while back. My parents were both shot back when I was 18 years old.”

“...I'm sorry for asking..”

“Don’t worry about it really with was a while ago after all,”

“I'm sorry for asking but what about your brothers? Did something happen to them too?”

“Well my older brother Grigoryvich left me and my younger brothers after our parents death. I was left to care for my younger brothers but you can probably imagine how difficult that must’ve been. I had to drop out of school because I found it difficult to care for my younger siblings since I had no money nor a job. Meanwhile I also forced myself to keep a smile for my little brothers after our parents' deaths, luckily my youngest brother Nikita doesn’t really remember that day all too well and I’m grateful for that because my other younger brother, Igor shared the worst of it. He was absolutely traumatized, of course we all were but Igor..he was the one that I tried to keep a smile for the most. But no matter what there was still emptiness within his eyes. After some time Igor and I had gotten into an argument. My brother was about 16 during this time. He left the house and most likely just wanted to go for a drive to clear up his mind a little after the argument. First thing the next morning I received a call.” he paused with a deeply saddened expression on his face.

“Who was the call from?” Mai asked, guessing the answer.

“The police. They called and announced to me that my brother’s dead body had been found in a car crash. I couldn’t believe the news..the loss of my brother was horrible. First my parents, now my little brother? I sure have some bad luck with family. The truth is I didn’t believe the claims of what the police said about my brother’s death. They said that he must’ve been a very reckless driver. The truth is that Igor was nowhere near reckless when driving, as well he's a minor so he wouldn’t have been drunk, I knew something was up. I decided to study to become a detective and find out the truth. I knew my brother’s death was set up, he had many enemies as did I, many of which wanted both of us dead. After officially becoming a detective I took on the case of my brother and found the culprit. It turned out to have been Igor’s closest friend at the time, so he set up for the car to explode after being driven for several minutes. Most likely originally planned for me but I avoided death yet again and my brother received it instead.”

“I'm so sorry Sergey..” Mai whispered.

“Its okay really!! I’m sorry for dimming the mood” Sergey said with a smile.

“I'm so confused, how are you always able to smile even after all this has happened?” Mai asked.

“Well I suppose I just tried to stay strong for my brothers and smile for them so that they would also smile. Even after everything that happened my end goal was that I just always wanted to see my little brother smile.” he explained. Mai stared at him with admiration.

“Your way of coping is so much better and more effective than mine.” she laughed slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I suppose it’s possibly time to tell you about my past a little, so I guess today is the day your question shall be answered on why I don’t show much emotion,” Sergey gave Mai a curious look, full of interest,”Back when I was rather quite young my parents told me we would be going somewhere. I was young, only about five years old, didn't really know what to expect. Once we arrived it was in a dark area, my mom was holding my hand guiding me alongside herself and my father. We walked into a dark alleyway, a man stood there as if waiting. The guy was wearing dark clothes and when my parents pulled me with them the guy asked ‘Is that the girl? Mai was it?’, his voice had a deep tone to it. My parents had answered yes and asked where was their money. He luckily turned out to be an undercover officer but once my parents figured it out they ran away. Sadly they still haven’t been caught, I don’t know whether they are dead or alive but I don’t care. What followed wasn’t much better.” Mai explained, glancing at Sergey who waited patiently for her to continue. “During my time at the orphanage I was like a reject, a loner, someone who no one liked. I got bullied and beaten. No one cared, except maybe only the librarian, Mrs. Lurisa. She had always been the only person by my side during my time at the orphanage. During that time, I took interest in books about Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He was my inspiration, my admiration, the only thing that made me happy before reality returned. After reading about Sherlock Holmes I decided that I wanted to be a detective. And to be perfectly honest I don’t regret my decision, I love my job, solving cases is just my cup of tea haha. You most likely remember the girl Alice, the one we saw at the park when there were shooting stars, well she transferred to my orphanage just about a year before I was meant to leave, I don’t really know much about her or why she ended up there in the first place but I feel she was the only one who actually treated me like a human. She never made fun of me, never bullied or beat me, I admit that despite her kind nature towards me I still ignored her. I suppose I just couldn’t get myself to connect with anyone because I was afraid.”

“What were you afraid of?”

“..I was afraid I would get backstabbed again like I did with the whole situation with my parents..”

“And you mentioned that you have your own way of coping, yes?”

“Oh right, well the truth is that this was also my way of motivating myself but anyways, I used my feelings of vengeance and anger to support and motivate myself despite struggling deeply with my own thoughts and emotions. Struggles of depression and the trauma of betrayal that has still up till now has not healed. I suppose my want for revenge against everyone was the only reason I survived till this point. It was the type of revenge that urged me to want to prove everyone who’d ever doubted me that they were wrong, and honestly I believe I achieved that goal.” Mai smiled at Sergey who looked a little sad but intrigued.

“Revenge..its a funny thing isn’t it? We all at one point have the want for revenge but with revenge what do we achieve? Let’s take my brother for example, killed at the hands of his own friend, but did putting him in jail really make me feel happier? Well no, revenge can be sweet but it can also be bitter. Having put the man behind bars may have felt pleasant but the bitter truth remained, my brother was gone, never to be returned back to life, just like my parents. Revenge is so interesting. It’s two sided, yin and yang, it can be sweet but with a bitter truth still left.” Sergey explained, his hands in his pockets as the two walked.

“I suppose I never really looked at it from that perspective. I’ve only ever really viewed revenge as a way of motivation, a way to feel happier, I guess I never tried looking at it in a different light where there is a good and bad to the revenge.” Mai looked at her feet in thought.

“I understand,” Sergey smiled.

“You're quite wise in this sense, haha” Mai said, returning Sergey’s smile.

“Thank you, thank you!” Sergey said dramatically as he slightly bowed like an actor who's completed a performance.

“Amusing, you sure like compliments don’t you?” Mai gave a teasing smirk.

“Well what can I say it is pleasant haha,” Sergey shrugged.

“Well we should probably head back and continue searching for clues or we’ll never complete this case.” Mai said. Sergey nodded agreement as they walked back to the station where Sergey worked.

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saspitite · 1 year ago

Text

Point Nemo

hi tumblr people, i am back with another short story. this time it's focused on my eldritch universe "cosmic intertwines" and was inspired by this location on earth called point nemo, which is said to be the area that's furthest from any human civilization. basically a really lonely ocean. and that's what this is about! a girl suddenly wakes up in the middle of point nemo and... yeah things happen

tw: heavy existential themes and mentions of stillbirth

What would you do if you were stranded? Lost in the nothingness of an empty sea? Trapped in the epicenter of unending silence?

They say the human mind breaks after just months of complete solitude.

It has been two minutes since I woke up in the middle of nowhere. I’m surrounded completely by the sea, with not a speck of land in sight. What happened? How did I get here? Where is my family?

I hope there’s a search party out there looking for me. I don’t know how long I can survive out here.

I’m scared.

It has been three hours since I woke up in the sea. I don’t know what to do. I don’t see anybody around me. No matter how hard I try to find land, I never seem to get anywhere. I won’t lose hope yet.

My name is Mei. I am seventeen years old. I lived in a house by a lake with my grandparents and two cats. I am an only child. I almost had a sibling, but they died shortly after birth.

Life is strange like that. Who gets to decide what lives and what doesn’t? I’ve always been skeptical of the idea of god, but it’s hard to deny that there’s some sort of unseeable force pulling the strings. Even if it’s unfathomable.

It’s been one day. I’m still hoping that someone will find me, because they have to, they have to know I’m gone. I’m just so, so tired. I can’t keep swimming.

I really hope my friends aren’t worried. Actually, that’s stupid. It’s been a day with no word from me or my family, of course they’re worried. I hope so. We were gonna start our finals this week. How am I gonna do that now? I’ll probably need to rest for a while after I get saved.

Three days. I can’t hold up any longer… I might drown soon. I really, truly do hope there’s someone out there trying to find me. They could just be taking a bit to get here. I’m not sure what else to do… I’m not ready to die… I lived such an empty life…

It’s been a week and I still haven’t been found. I feel so tired. I stopped swimming a while ago, but it turns out that I still float just above the surface of the water, anyway. How? I gave up. I should be sinking.

It could be the salinity of the water, but I doubt it. I don’t know. I used to see little islands in the distance, but now they’re gone. I only see water. Have I moved?

My skin feels shriveled. I can’t imagine what this is doing to my health.

It’s been a month, I’m sure.

I only have one memory of my mother. It was when she had my sibling, who was stillborn. We were going to have a funeral for them, but we couldn’t because my mom ate the baby.

I never saw her after that. I was told that she was taken to a mental hospital so she could “recover”. That’s a pretty funny thing to hear, especially since I had recently found a report detailing that they dissected her brain out of curiosity for why she did the things she did.

I still feel bad for her, though. She must’ve had a horrible life. But I can’t say that for sure, since I was barely even around for it.

I still think she could be a good person. I just don’t know why she did that. I really don’t.

The water has become clear. I think I can see everything now. The ocean knows I’m here.

I don’t remember how long it’s been. It must’ve been several months by now. How am I alive?

Or… is time moving slower?

I really don’t know what time is, now that I think about it. It’s strange how we can easily tell the time, yet we don’t know where it came from, why it exists, and how it only moves forward.

Time wants to kill us all, too. Why is that?

I’m not alone. There’s little sea animals near my body. I’m not sure about what they are, though. Some have long tendrils and coily bodies that move around like snakes. I feel like I can hear them moving, even though they’re several miles away from me. There’s hundreds of them. Thousands. Deep, thousands of miles deep into the ocean, touching the sky, in my bloodstream. My skin feels like it’s crawling. Maybe that’s just the water.

I’m suspended in some place that isn’t the sea or the sky. It’s like I’m in both at the same time. Where’s the sun? Where’s the daylight? Where’s the horizon? Have I become the horizon? Whatever I’m seeing above me isn’t the fucking sky. Whatever’s below me wants to devour my body.

I don’t know where I got these ideas in my head. It’s fine. Someone will come find me. It’s only been a couple years.

My body is beginning to decay. I’ve become hyper-aware of myself, my genetic composition, every single organ in my body, every cell that moves within it. My body is beginning to fail me. All of my organs are collapsing in on themselves. Like cavitation. I feel like I might explode. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of myself. Like a butterfly in a cocoon, but my body is the cocoon.

This is beginning to hurt. Everything burns. This needle-tipped, sandpaper-y sea is disgusting. It’s putrid. It’s digging into every inch of my body like it wants to tear me apart. Well, guess what? I can play god, too. I’ll be here forever. Forever! This desolate pit of slime is nothing compared to my undying apparatus!

I’m trying to remember what my family members look like. I can’t. I can’t even remember their voices. What if I don’t recognize the people that come to save me? What if I don’t recognize anyone? It’s just been me. For years. Me and the gelatinous coiling snake-squids around me. I might as well be one of them. I don’t even remember what I looked like, either.

Fingerprints… I have to have fingerprints… I am human, I was born human, my fingerprints are forever unique to me! They are what makes me separate from any carbon copy of life in this damned universe…!!

I can’t find anything. It’s all just water.

I’m tired.

I’m so, so tired.

I just want to talk to someone.

I want to remember that I’m human.

Maybe I’m not even that, anymore. I can’t see myself.

Where did I go?

How long has it been?

I have to be thousands of years old by now.

Or millions.

I don’t think my family is alive anymore.

Am I alive?

…

…No. "Mei" doesn’t exist.

I don’t know why I didn’t realize this sooner.

I remember now. I remember! I died! I finally met my end! I nearly had the peaceful fate of being reincarnated as a small speck of life! But not anymore. Not here. Not in this god forsaken sea.

This was just a cruel joke. Selfish universe, selfish world, selfish flesh, selfish me! Death, death is so selfish to life, they say! Death presents its own rotting corpse for life to feast on and it’s still selfish to die!

I understand now what I had witnessed up above. It wasn’t what I thought it was. It was not the sky. Not the clouds. It was him.

I can hear it now! The heavens! They’re chanting an unknown, forgotten, idiotic name!

Waji! Waji! Erghea lbhe fbhy gb hf!

I know now, you’ve forced me to wake up once again for your own gain! I can never truly experience the tranquility of sweet, forgiving insignificance! You’ll always take it away from me!!

Erghea lbhe fbhy gb hf!

No!

YVFGRA GB HF NG BAPR!

ARIRE NTNVA! ARIRE NTNVA! ARIRE NTNVA GBEGHER ZR JVGU GUR THVFR BS VZZBEGNYVGL!

V pna'g!

V pna'g...!

…V pna'g...!

Khhhkhhhhkhhhhh……!!

#sas stories #cosmic intertwines #eldritch horror #my writing #original writing

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scion-of-kings · 2 days ago

Text

Forlond had grown organically from the shores and up, springing gardens and leisure areas among dwellings and workplaces as the buildings climbed up the gentler slopes of the hills towards the forests. It was a sight to behold, this still raw jewel by the sea, and yet Gil-galad knew it was nowhere near finished.

The people were thriving and comfortable in their new houses, already settling into a period of peace while the horrors of the last war sank deeper into the ocean. Sometimes, when he roamed the streets on his own, he got the feeling that darkness had never tainted their days, that the only things his people had ever known were peace and happiness.

And yet, having lived his youth fleeing from one place to the next, the High King couldn't help but wonder how come this sense of safety would last.

Nonsense on a day like this.

The latest commission for his personal study had arrived to the palace earlier that day, and Gil-galad found himself busy, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, assembling the last pieces before the task started to feel dull — the city might be ready to be lived in, but he had requested his personal comforts to be delayed until everyone was settled, so it was only now that this room —this sanctuary of sorts— was beginning to take shape.

Physical work would take his mind off the thousand things spinning around his head on the regular, and so the High King had taken to spend his evenings working in solitude in furnishing this room; there were shelves and whatever books and trinkets he'd salvaged from a previous life, his precious harp and a chaise that had still to be tamed to his body's comfort.

When Elrond arrived, lost in thought as he was, Gil-galad couldn't help but frown in confusion.

“What of me—” he started, setting his tools down and wiping his hands in a cloth. It was not the first time the peredhel hit him with a question seemingly out of the blue, one he would struggle to answer at first. “Where is this coming from, Elrond?”

He gestured at the young peredhel to come in.

“I am sure our dear Círdan has regaled you with tales of my rebellious youth,” Gil-galad said, not without mirth, as he perched on the edge of his desk. Then he took on a pensive look, fingers drumming over the wood. “I do not know the exact story I would like you to cherish, but I know I would rather have those close to me remember me by as an individual, not... not the King, I guess.” His voice lowered a tad at that admittance, and his gaze left the rolled-up carpet by his feet to meet Elrond's. “What would you choose to remember, hadn't you ask me?”

Starter for @scion-of-kings

Elrond found himself taken by a thought. It was small, but then it grew and took precedence over most others. Until, for the past few days, it took all his attention. It pushed him onward, going around Forlindon talking and listening, asking questions and listening, listening and remembering...

It had morphed into a greed, and he understood in one aspect why.

Fear, one he buried.

For a new age this might be, buoyed by such hope, and Lindon was a kingdom—a kingdom, yet it whispered about possibilities inevitable. So he stood at the threshold of where he knew Gil-galad was—garden? study? office?—chewing at his thoughts some more.

It decided for him how to start.

"Pardon me, what of you would you like me to remember for the rest of my life?" A blink. That sounded incoherent and rushed, words tumbling after each other. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean…what story of you or your childhood, or anything that you hold dear, would you like me to remember?"

#whichofsummer #Elrond is so precious #v: foundations of lindon (between the mountains and the sea)#and where he dwelleth none can say (queue)

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elysiadjarin · 3 years ago

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Day 2: Breeding Kink

Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink

Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober

Moonlight Through Colored Leaves

When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.

You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.

The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.

You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.

“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”

“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”

“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”

You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.

You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.

She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”

You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.

“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”

You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.

“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.

“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.

She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.

“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”

Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.

You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.

She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.

“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.

“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.

You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”

He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.

He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”

You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”

He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”

You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.

The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.

You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.

Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.

You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.

Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?

You fell asleep thinking about it.

You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.

Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.

Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.

Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”

You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”

He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.

Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”

Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”

You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.

By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.

As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.

“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.

He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.

You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.

“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.

You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”

Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”

“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.

You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.

“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.

“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”

You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”

You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.

You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.

“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”

Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.

You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.

His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”

His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”

You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”

He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”

Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”

“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”

When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.

You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?

The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.

They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.

Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.

“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.

“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”

Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”

“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.

You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.

It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.

“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”

You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”

Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.

He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”

You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.

He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”

You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”

He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”

He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”

You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”

He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”

You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”

You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.

An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”

You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.

He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”

You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”

He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.

Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.

It was only a matter of time.

Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.

The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.

And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?

You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.

Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”

She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.

In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.

It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.

The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”

Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.

“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”

You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.

“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”

The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”

Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.

Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.

The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.

Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.

With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.

The world spun into crimson.

Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.

Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”

Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”

“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”

It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—

“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”

Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.

Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”

Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.

But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.

With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.

He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.

Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-“ His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.

“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”

You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—

“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”

Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?

“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.

He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”

Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.

“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“

You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.

You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.

But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.

The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.

Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.

The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.

You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.

Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.

“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—

He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”

And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“

You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.

Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.

With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.

“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.

His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.

“May I?” He tapped your shirt.

You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.

You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.

“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”

You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.

You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.

“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”

You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.

His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”

You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.

“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”

With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.

Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.

Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.

“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”

Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.

He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.

“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”

He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.

A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”

The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.

And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.

Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”

A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.

“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.

You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.

His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.

“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”

You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.

#elysiadjarinkinktober #elysiadjarin #x reader #my writing #mywriting #nsft #exophilia #terato #monsterfucker #xyou #smut #kinktober

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years ago

Note

For Daddy Issues can you make a Drabble where Ransom finds out reader is pregnant with baby #2.

I know this wasn't sent for my follower celebration, but I figured it was the perfect opportunity to write it!

Thanks for requesting this, btw! I love writing drabbles for my series 🥰

"Very good, Cedric!" My wife's voice reached my ears as soon as I walked into our house, tired after another gruelling day away from her at the office.

I liked the nature of my job, and I knew that even if I spent the entire day at home, I wouldn't be able to spend it with her since she had her own obligations... but it didn't stop me from missing her and our son terribly by the end of each workday.

"And what else did you learn today ?" Making my way towards the living room, I found them sitting on the plush rug, Cedric on her lap as they stared at an open book in front of them. At the sound of my arrival, however, my little boy's head whipped around to see me over his mother's shoulder, something she mirrored once he started to eagerly reach for me until she let him go so he could run (as best as he could) towards me.

"Daddy!" He yelled as I leaned down to pick him up, and as soon as I hugged him, he rested his head on my shoulder, making me turn to look at my wife with a pout.

Goddamn, this kid is cute.

"I'm happy to see you too, buddy," I assured him, rubbing his back as his mother slowly approached us.

"You two will be the death of my ovaries," she complained, shaking her head, but rose up to her tiptoes to press a kiss to my lips. "Welcome home, honey."

Those words were routine by now - so was the kiss, so was my son's excitement every time he saw me walk through the door - but I was nowhere near used to it, yet. It still filled my heart with joy, and it made me so happy I could cry.

"You got home early," I commented, noticing how by the time I arrived, it was clear that she'd been with Cedric for a while. "I thought you had classes all day."

She just shook her head, taking our son from my arms before carefully depositing him back on his feet, where he wasted no time before diving where almost all of his toys were sprawled around. He quickly became entertained by a toy train and left me to talk to his mother in peace.

"Only during the morning," she explained. "I had a doctor's appointment this afternoon." At this piece of information that I did not expect to hear, my eyebrows shot up before dipping, a frown taking over my face at my worry.

"Are you sick?" I asked, reaching for her, who just chuckled. She looked relaxed, excited even - which made this all the more confusing to me.

"Not at all," she was quick to inform me. "But I did need a specialist's confirmation before I could share the news with you." Shaking my head, I made sure she knew I wasn't following her story at all. What news did she need to share with me? That she needed to confirm with a doctor before...

She started laughing the second I realized what she meant, probably at the expression on my face - a mixture of surprise, excitement and nerves, undoubtedly.

"You're pregnant," I was the one to state, and at her nod, I fell down on my knees in front of her, not being able to keep myself up any longer. "We're gonna have another baby," I whispered, reaching around her body to hug her and press my face against the place where Cedric's sibling was growing.

"Yeah..." It was apparently all that she could say, but I felt her fingers running through my strands, caressing me until I relaxed and closed my eyes to enjoy this bliss. "You think you're ready, daddy?"

"Probably not," I answered, chuckling to myself as I remembered all of the late nights we'd spent until Cedric actually managed to sleep through the night. "But I am beyond happy."

Come join my follower celebration!

#my drabbles #daddy issues ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #fluff #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale drabble #ransom drysdale imagine

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esamastation · 3 years ago

Text

Breath of the Wild snippet

Link is bored. It's a little startling how easy it's to see – how easy he's to read these days. Where before, hundred years ago, he'd been as unreadable as a brick wall, a look of serious determination as though permanently etched to his face, now he's an open book, covers flung wide. The serious frown still makes an appearance, of course, it's his default expression, Link's face simply rests in a way that makes him seem as though he's almost scowling, but now, should an emotion cross his mind… he does nothing to hide it.

Like now, as his attention strays and his eyes wander and every so often he smothers a sigh or a yawn or a longing look directed at the door. It's in part painfully and in part endearingly clear how little attention he's paying to their meeting, and how much he wishes he could be elsewhere.

Zelda smothers a smile and then realises she's allowed herself to be distracted, and quickly turns her attention back to the meeting taking place in Impa's house.

"... a little difficult to test," Purah is saying. She's sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor, her seat cushion abandoned and papers flung about her – most of them about her anti-aging rune. "I can't even promise the test subject will survive the process, never mind that it will work even fifty percent of the time... so finding people to volunteer has been an issue."

"What, no old folks interested in regaining their misspent youth?" Robbie asks with a slight snort, adjusting his goggles. "I'd happily test it, if my work wasn't too important to risk!"

Purah gives him a look. "Well, duh. Most folk are the same," she says and shakes her head. "And besides, the population and age statistics don't exactly trend towards the elderly these days. The average life expectancy of both Hylians and Sheikah both trend about forty years younger than it used to be pre-Calamity. And the only way for people to reliably grow old these days –"

"Is to have a family or other support network, helping them," Impa muses, rubbing at her chin. "Which means they have things too dear to lose, for an uncertain chance."

"Just so," Purah says and folds her little arms, adorable in her seriousness. "I did post queries around Hateno village, of course, but I only had a couple of takers, and they all turned tail when I explained the risks. And we can't improve the chances without further testing. And we can't do further testing without candidates. And we're not likely to get more candidates with the chances being what they are - it's a vicious circle."

By the door, Link looks ready to nod off.

Zelda hums, looking at the papers Purah had brought, conflicted. It's incredible work, just as a concept, and Purah hadn't just left it at theory – and the results certainly speak for themselves! Purah is now, what, hundred and twenty, hundred and thirty years old? And she looks as though she is a girl of six, with all that time ahead of her and not behind. If the technology could be made reliable, it would no doubt change the future in ways Zelda can scarcely imagine… for the better, she hopes, for all the people of Hyrule.

But right now, she has more selfish reasons to make enquiries into the rune.

Zelda looks at Impa, sitting on top of a pile of pillows, her weathered, aged face thoughtful. Their eyes meet and Zelda steels her resolve. "Might there be any potential candidates in Kakariko village, Impa?" she asks.

"Hmm. I doubt it. Young Zain, maybe?" Impa muses. "Well, he's not so young. He's in his seventies, he has bad knees and no surviving relatives to support or be supported by. Bit of a sour grape, that one, though. Sceptic. Hard to convince."

"I'm sure if the Lost Princess and the Hero who stopped Ganon ask for it, anyone would be happy to give it a go!" Robbie says, slapping his folded knees. "Especially if they learn what it's all for!"

Zelda smiles, wincing, and looks down. Using her standing for such a thing… sure she'd done things of that nature before, pleading people to join their cause, ages ago… but never with the risks so high, and potential results so uncertain. She'd never liked asking people to risk their lives, for her or otherwise. Even with a cause so important...

"It would be a somewhat awkward thing to ask, though," she muses and looks down. "It is an awkward thing to ask. I'm… I'm sorry to have to ask it of you."

After all this time, all these years, all the service they'd already put in, to ask for so much more of them… but she had to. No one woman could rebuild a kingdom by herself. She needed help, she needed allies – she needed Impa and Robbie and Purah. With such a foundation, Hyrule might yet rise, better than ever, but for that to ever happen… Impa and Robbie needed to go through what Purah already had, and extend their already prodigiously long lives even further. They all deserved their quiet retirement, after all the effort they'd put in, but for Hyrule, Zelda would make this cruel request.

"Ha!" Robbie says, striking a pose. "Like I wouldn't do this without being asked! As soon as Purah can improve the odds – no, as soon as we can improve the odds –"

"What's that, you old coot, what do you mean by we?" Purah depends, bouncing to her feet. "If you think I will let you ever into my lab, mister, you're sorely mistaken –!"

"If we work together, combine the efforts of Akkala and Hateno tech labs, we're sure to succeed! With Cherry's incredible computing power and your Stone –"

"Your creepy ancient furnace is getting nowhere near my Guidance Stone!"

Link startles awake at the noise they're making and Zelda smothers a giggle while Impa sighs.

"I will ask Paya to check in on Zain, maybe he will be interested," Impa says and shakes her head. "But it's still a small test study, with only two subjects. I'm sorry, Zelda – as much as I wish to do this, I am with Robbie on this. The chances are too low and I have too much to lose, right now. Paya is nowhere near ready to take over for me here. There needs to be more candidate's, first, and I don't know where we can get them. But," she hums and looks away. "There might be someone who does."

Link yawns and then freezes, finding all of them staring at him. Then, clearly baffled, he points at himself quizzically, and Zelda offers him a smile.

Impa chuckles. "You've been all over Hyrule now, Link – you've traveled farther than probably anyone has in a hundred years. Better than anyone, you know the state of her people. Do you think there is anyone out there who might be interested in Purah's study – in regaining their youth, even at a risk?"

Link scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully and then takes out the Sheikah Slate, opening the map with an easy, well practiced wipe of his fingers over the screen. Zelda leans in, once more amazed – and a little jealous – of how far he'd gotten with it, how full of markers the map is. Hundred years ago, she'd estimated that there might be as many as a dozen sites of ancient Sheikah technology all over Hyrule. Link had discovered over a hundred. They now glow on his map, like glittering blue gems, the Towers and Shrines he'd seen and mastered.

Link zooms in on the map and then puts down three other markers. One in Zora's domain, one in Gerudo Town and last in Lurelin Village. Turning the slate around, he shows the map to everyone.

"Of course," Zelda breathes in realisation. "The Guardians never reached so far, so their populations were never so scattered or scarred. In Zora's domain, in Gerudo Town and in Lurelin, people can grow old peacefully, without fear of attack."

Link makes a face and a wobbling gesture with his hand and then shrugs. Zelda smiles, sadly. "Aside from monsters and other disasters and misfortunes, of course," she agrees. "But without fear of attacks by Guardians, they were allowed to prosper."

"Not the Rito, though?" Robbie asks, his goggles whirting and shifting like the eyes of a gecko as he looks between the map, Link and Zelda. "Or the Gorons?"

Link shrugs, rubbing at his neck.

"Gorons age like rocks, Daruk always said," Zelda muses. "And I suppose with Rito it can be difficult to tell their ages. If we send out invitations to the study, we should include them as well – assuming that the treatment by the rune isn't Sheikah exclusive…?"

Purah rocks back and forth on her feet thoughtfully, almost as though she's about to dance. "I… don't know? I calibrated the first version based on my own physiology, so it might be best to stick to Sheikah and Hylians for a start – but I can't see why it couldn't be adjusted. Gerudo are closer in structure to us than Rito and Gorons, or Zora for that matter. Might be best we start there, when we begin making modifications to include everyone."

"So, begin with Lurelin," Robbie says and nods. "How do we do that?"

"We'll make some posters and Link can zip in and out of Lurelin Village to post them," Purah says and strikes a pose. "It's just a snap for the Sheikah Slate."

Impa hums in agreement. "Best we make advertisements for Kakariko and Hateno as well, and perhaps some of the stables," she muses. "You never know who might take us up on it, and getting this technology to work at hundred percent will be a benefit to everyone."

"You're right," Zelda agrees, nodding. "Purah and Robbie, I suppose you two know best what should go on the poster. Can you make it?"

"It'll work much better, with your name under it," Robbie points out.

"We'll write a draft and you can copy it and put your royal touch and seal to it," Purah says and does an excited little dance. "This is so exciting! We'll get so many applicants and my little Guidance Stone will get to do it's thing!"

Zelda offers her a smile, all the while wondering, not for the first time… how much of a royal she even is, at this point. With the castle in ruins and the Kingdom in shambles, with no one to rule it for a hundred years… all that Zelda is now... is a story. The Princess that went to fight Calamity Ganon as the Kingdom fell asunder all around her. Not many even believe it. That might change with this meeting and the following cooperation, especially when they'd begin reaching out further, but right now…

Princess of nothing indeed.

"So much was lost," Zelda murmurs, carefully resting her hands in her lap to keep herself from wringing them. She shouldn't concentrate on the losses. Not when there's so much to do. "It will be good to build something for a change. To improve things."

"Indeed," Impa says, nodding her head, her heavy hat tilting. "But if Calamity Ganon taught us anything, it is that we should take all due caution."

"Yes. And speaking of which," Zelda says and lifts her eyes to Robbie. "Your research in Akkala – I would very much like to hear more about it. Link showed me the armour and weaponry you made, they're very impressive – how did you manage it?"

Robbie all but launches himself into the story of Akkala Ancient Tech Lab, the research he'd done there, the progress he'd made, enthusiastically recounting the creation of his Ancient Furnace, Cherry. Zelda leans in, allowing herself to be drawn in, and by the door Link settles down with a sigh and begins nodding off again.

Hmm hmm. Took me 3 years, but I finally finished botw.

I might continue this one and it might end up a Stargate crossover. Who knows.

#fanfiction #botw #loz #breath of the wild #legend of zelda breath of the wild #spoilers

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