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chaos-in-deepspace · 6 months ago

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L&DS: "Watch This!" | Crack

So I dunno about you, but I'm one of those idiots who seldom drink water and sometimes forgets to eat for like two days. So when I stand up too fast it's like a moment of "Oh look the lights went out." So anyway that's the entire idea for this. Everyone experiences this, right? This is a normal human thing to experience when you stand up? Just standing up and almost (or actually) peacing out? Anyway, I never said my writing ideas were good but I they're there.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Fainting, Crack Fic, Reader can't take care of themselves, Zayne is stressed as your doctor, Rafayel might have a heart attack, Xavier just assumes you died, Rafayel does as well but he's dramatic on a good day

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Xavier

"Xavier, I promise you I am totally fine. I just got a little dizzy because of the heat." You tried assuring the blonde man as he looked around his apartment. He had already gotten a cold compress and thrown a glass of water in your hands for you to sip on. This was all because you guys had gone on a small jog together to prepare for the latest event in town and you had gotten a bit woozy. He had insisted on carrying you back to the apartments and here you where.

"Your face went as white as a sheet." He pointed out and you scoffed. Impossible. You don't even think it's possible to turn that color with how hot you had felt. If he said you looked like a cherry tomato or something from how red your face had gotten from the exertion it would've been more believable.

"Xavier, would an unwell person be able to do this?" You asked as you went to stand. As you jolted into a standing position you then remembered a key detail. The water he had given you was the first thing you had to drink today...and you don't think you had breakfast either.

The thought flashed through your mind as you felt the blood pounding in your ears and your vision darkening. Your only thought was 'Oh sugar, we're going down, down.' before you collapsed in on yourself.

Next thing you knew you were lying on the ground, a soft lap underneath you as Xavier fanned you off. You groaned as you came to, staring at Xavier's face. The man looked like he had just witnessed your death as he stared at you with wide eyes.

"Oh good morning." You managed to murmur out. Xavier's eyes narrowed as he glared down at you.

"You said you were fine then immediately fainted. I was about to call an ambulance." He scolded you, his tone harsh as he shifted your head on his lap. You noticed his free hand was holding a cell phone.

"Oh don't do that please. I'm okay."

"That's what you said last time."

"How about this...you get me something yummy to eat and I drink some water and if I'm still fainting after that then we can consider maybe going to see a doctor."

"Do you swear?"

"No..."

"We're going to the hospital." You then felt your world shift again as you were tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You beat his back, begging him to let you down. Alas, once Xavier had his mind made, there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Zayne

"Have you already eaten today?" It was a simple enough question as you sat at the end of your check up with your favorite doctor. Your legs swinging over the edge as you put in some thought to that question. Zayne sat there, waiting patiently as he looked up and quirked an eyebrow in question.

"That is a brilliant question that I don't have an answer to." You might've eaten something today...or perhaps that was yesterday? The days sometimes blurred together in the most confusing ways.

"Have you drank any water?" Oh that was an easy question. No. The answer was no.

"You know the first ingredient in an energy drink is water."

"No..." Zayne said, pinching his eyebrows together in frustration. How you managed to still be alive is a miracle. Not even science could explain how you didn't just kneel over on any given day with how little care you put into your health.

"Zayne, I can promise you, I am totally healthy. Watch this." You stated before jumping up off the examination table. Immediately you felt the world shifting under you like the floor decided to become sentient and move like a damn treadmill.

Next thing you knew, you were waking up in the arms of the best cardiac surgeon at Akso hospital. You grumbled a bit as the light was bright. You looked up to see Zayne's not amused expression, in fact you might even call it a frustrated look.

"How long was I out?"

"30 seconds too long."

"Am I in trouble?"

"You're going to the cafeteria with me right now to get food and water. If you faint again I'm admitting you for the night and hooking you up to an IV."

"So you're saying fainting gets me a dinner date with the Doctor Zayne, and a possible sleepover?"

"Why are you like this?"

Rafayel

You made the realization that you could only entertain yourself by playing on your phone for so long. Rafayel had promised that as soon as he finished some light detail work on his latest painting, you could go out to town and grab some dinner.

That was well over six hours ago as you laid on his couch. You had already finished a book you had downloaded on your phone, scrolled through all your social media, checked out new memes, and caught up on videos of people you followed. As you looked over you saw Rafayel was still sitting on his stool, painting away.

You groaned, rolling yourself off the couch you had been glued to for those entire six hours. You plopped onto the floor, noting that he really did need to clean this studio up a bit. Normally Rafayel would at least be talking to you, but he had been so quiet and boring today.

"Raf...I'm dying of boredom here." You finally called out to him. The man in question looked over at you then looked outside. The sun had set a long time ago and he paused in what he was doing.

"I promise, I'm almost done." He said with a sigh and you groaned again. Then you remembered a little party trick you had up your sleeve. You'd admit you were actually hungry on account of being too busy to eat and then being promised food earlier, you opted not to have snacks. Not to mention water was gross for drinking so it all accumulated into the perfect way to get his attention.

"Rafayel, I'm fading away. I'm starving. I might die. I'm so weak." You called out from the floor and Rafayel finally turned in his stool to eye you up and down.

"I'm sure you are." His tone was sarcastic as he looked at you. He seemed to be entertained by your antics, "I can always order you some food. I also have snacks in the kitchen." He pointed out.

"That won't work, Raf. I'm too far gone. I mean...just watch this." You said, jumping up from your position on the ground. As soon as you were in a standing position, your body fought against you. Your ears were ringing uncomfortably and your vision went in and out. You could barely hear Rafayel calling your name in concern, followed by a him cursing as things clattered.

You collapsed, fainting just like you knew your dumbass would. You knew your body and knew the perfect conditions for going lights out, after all.

When you came to, you saw Rafayel almost in tears as he tried getting you to wake up. You murmured something that not even you could decipher as Rafayel's shoulders sagged in relief.

"I thought you actually died." He looked shaken up as you raised a hand to touch his cheek.

"Can we get food now like you promised?"

Rafayel was silent for a moment as he calmed his heart down and looked at you, "Did you faint just so I'd stop painting and take you to dinner?"

"Well did it work?"

"...Yes, but never do that again."

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suzukiblu · 1 year ago

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Tim?

Tim did not actually mean to kidnap an alternate reality's version of Kon.

In his defense, he'd had very limited time in that reality and everything in it had been going to shit and . . . well, everything in it had been going to shit.

Also, Lex Luthor had been a lot more heavily involved in that particular reality's Cadmus, and fuck it if Tim was ever going to leave any version of Kon with that bastard.

With any bastard who could ever look at Kon and call him "it".

"Ow," Tim grunts into the dirty pavement of what he hopes is his own Gotham as blood drips out of his mouth, and feels Kon's fingertips brush very, very tentatively against his back. He's a little too dizzy to lift his head, but he figures it doesn't matter. Like it's just . . . it's fine. They're not in Cadmus and Kon is safe and Tim is . . . conscious, at least, which means he can work with the situation.

Whatever the situation actually is, anyway.

Kon's hands flatten against his back, which is a very familiar tell, and Tim immediately feels the even more familiar embrace of TTK wrapping him up.

Less familiar is the impulse to find said embrace adorable, but in Tim's defense, this Kon is physiologically about ten years old and so far every single thing he's done has been either adorable or heartbreaking or some terrible combination of the two.

"Robin?" Kon asks anxiously. "You're okay, right?"

"M'okay," Tim mumbles blurrily, because it's more or less true. More blood drips out of his mouth and splatters on the pavement. "All okay. S'fine. You hurt?"

"No," Kon says, still sounding nervous. "Dunno where we are, though."

"Should be Gotham," Tim says, forcing himself to lift his head enough to check and nearly laughing as he recognizes their surroundings as the exact part of Crime Alley that he got interdimensionally yanked out of seventy-six hours ago. "Yeah. Gotham."

He pushes himself up enough to look over at Kon. Kon looks very small crouched down next to him with buzzed-down hair, barefoot in pristine white lab scrubs with a shiny metal cuff stamped with an identification number locked around his wrist. "13" features prominently on it.

Tim wants to melt it into slag.

"Is it your Gotham?" Kon asks.

"No clue, but I'm hoping," Tim says. He thinks about getting to his feet but he's pretty sure he'd throw up if he tried. Or fall over. Or both?

Probably both, at this point.

Oh well, he figures, and pushes himself up. He doesn't vomit, surprisingly, although he is very definitely sure that Kon's TTK is the only thing keeping him from falling over.

No reason to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, Tim decides.

"I need coffee," he says as he gives Kon's shoulder an appreciative pat, because the caffeine withdrawal is real. Also he needs medical attention, probably, but also-also he needs to come up with either a cover story for the ER or an explanation for Bruce and therefore caffeine can't hurt.

"Uh, okay," Kon says skeptically. "I don't think Starbucks or anything is gonna be open right now, though, it's pretty late."

"God, what did Cadmus teach you, kid," Tim says despairingly, making a face at the thought. "Starbucks is a punishment from God. We're going to the nearest twenty-four diner and I'm ordering roofing tar. And we're getting you a hot chocolate. Do you want a hot chocolate?"

". . . yeah," Kon says, biting his lip. "Um. I mean, I dunno if I'd like it, though."

"If you don't like it, we'll get you something else," Tim says. "But I haven't slept or eaten properly since I left my reality and I need coffee before it becomes a legitimate medical emergency."

"Shouldn't you get, like, real food, then?" Kon asks skeptically. "Not just coffee?"

"Coffee is food," Tim lies reflexively.

". . . I don't think it is," Kon says, squinting up at him suspiciously. "Are you taking advantage of me being too stupid to know if coffee's food or not?"

". . . we can get something to go," Tim says, wishing he'd blown up a bit more of Cadmus on his way out of that fucking cesspool of a reality. "You're not stupid. Luthor can choke on a fucking cactus for all the shit he kept saying to you."

"I mean, I didn't come out right," Kon says uncomfortably. "I'm not as smart as Dadd–as Lex is. Or as Superman was."

Tim pretends that Kon wasn't about to say "Daddy" for both their sakes. Just . . . yeah. At least for the moment, anyway.

Luthor was a lot more heavily involved in that Cadmus.

And horrifyingly.

Tim tries not to think about the way that Luthor had kept touching Kon. All the little too-deliberate points of contact he'd made time and again and too often.

Much too often.

Tim hadn't seen anyone else even so much as enter Kon's personal space the entire time he'd been in that godforsaken lab, and every single time that Luthor had made a gesture like he might touch him, Kon had tensed in something that couldn't decide between being fear or anticipation.

It'd made Tim want to burn the whole fucking lab and every single LexCorp-owned building he could find to the ground.

He'd settled for interdimensionally kidnapping Kon and destroying all of Cadmus's systems and DNA samples as thoroughly as possible. C-4 had been involved.

A lot of C-4 had been involved.

Possibly that had been a slight overreaction, but fuck if Tim cares. Just–Clark had still been dead, and Cassie hadn't had powers and Bart hadn't been in the time period and Tim himself hadn't even existed, for whatever reason, and apparently neither had Cissie or Greta or Anita or Slobo, and Bruce had already had his hands full with Damian and Dick had been off-planet and Jason had also still been dead and just–

Options had been limited, alright?

Options had been limited, and by that point Tim hadn't had time to go check and see what the Kents were up to or track down Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen or even just tip off the Justice League or the Titans, because by that point he'd been in an examination room with a Lex Luthor who was stroking a frightened Kon's face with one hand while holding a syringe that was glowing kryptonite-green with the other and Tim had just . . . he'd just made some choices at that point, okay?

He'd made some very decisive choices.

And some very decisive commitments.

Or at least one very decisive commitment, anyway.

#dc robin #tim drake #superboy #kon el #conner kent #rinfic #anonymous #long post #implied molestation #implied abuse #wip: interdimensional kidnapping via robin

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euphoricsleeplucidity · 15 days ago

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So I saw some Oilrose art, and got a writing idea, but I'm not sure if I should post something based on someone's art? If I should take this down, please let me know. Idk social media etiquette, yet. ;-; Anyway, it's not a script this time but it's still kind of lazy. Enjoy!

V was overheating. She's fully aware of that, she needs oil, and she needs it bad. So why is she stumbling back to the corpse spire? Why is she not hunting, even though that 'core temps too high' warning keeps popping up on her hud and her systems are slowly beginning to fail, her internal fans forced to whir to life in a futile effort to cool her systems?

She feels so dizzy. Honestly, that shouldn't even be possible for a drone, but it certainly feels that way. The world is spinning as she walks, steam literally emitting from her heated body, it's a wonder that the snow below doesn't melt.

Yet, she perseveres and makes it to the spire.

Ah. There's the reason she returned, anyway. She tries to stand up tall in front of her leader, but it's too much of a pain to bother and she just continues to slump. Averts her yellow eyes, even as J's questioning ones pierce through her.

"V? What are you doing," it's more a demand than a question. J steps forward, close enough to feel the heat emitting from the overheated disassembler. If V was any dumber, she'd think that her leader stepped this close on purpose.

"I dunno," slurs V, looking up at her leader and smiling lazily. "Since last time, someone got handsy, fig-figured you'd. Y'know."

A dim yellow blush lights up the bottom of J's visor. V can see the conflict, the need to step back vs the want to be closer.

Yeah. V returned on purpose.

If the only way to convince J to be so close was letting herself overheat?

Well, it's a small price to pay.

And V figures she knows why. The warmth, so unlike the usual coolness of their bodies, it reminds J of... Tessa, doesn't it? So it's not even like her leader actually cares about her in the way she wants, anyway, never will. But it's something. And damnit, V was willing to take what she can get.

J never steps back. No, she comes closer, and without further hesitation, wraps her arms around her subordinate. V startles despite expecting it, but quickly relaxes, her traitorous tail wagging behind herself. She returns the hug, placing her hands on J's back, and her leader sighs in contentment, as does V.

They don't exchange words.

V is content with this.

J will never like her back, but at least she has this.

Little does she know, J smiles, but not because she's remembering Tessa's warmth this time.

If the only way to convince V to be so close was letting her overheat?

Well, it's a small price to pay.

Though, lacking in efficiency.

She doesn't know why V is doing this.

But, well. They have extra oil lying around the spire, anyway.

J's hands cling tighter to V's back.

Stop hurting yourself for me, you idiot.

But those words never come.

#my writing #angst #murder drones #j x v #oilrose #serial designation j #serial designation v #murder drones j #murder drones v #wrote this at 4AM

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strawberriemarswrites · 9 months ago

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ONESHOT - WICKED GAME (Bartolomeo)

Summary: You and Barto have been dating for a while. You want to try something new with him, something a little more kinky. Pairing: Bartolomeo x AFAB!Reader (no pronouns are mentioned, but Reader has a vagina) Rating: Explicit TW & Tags: Consensual Dub-Con, roleplay, dominant Bartolomeo, rough sex, very light bondage, Barto being mean, slightly bratty Reader, oral, fingering, PiV. This is in the canon OP universe, you’re a member of Barto’s crew :3 Word Count: 2,527

“I dunno. Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bartolomeo’s face was rapidly turning darker and darker shades of red as he stared down at the rope in your hands. “I-I don’t wanna hurt ya or nothin’...”

You nodded, taking one of his hands and placing it on top of the bundle. “I trust you. You won’t hurt me.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before turning it over so that when you released, he was holding the rope. “We can start slow. The safeword isn't just for me, either — you can use it if you get uncomfortable.”

He looked down at the rope, then to your face. You were blushing as much as he was, avoiding direct eye contact. His fingers curled around the coil of rope, and he brushed his knuckles against your cheek, then into your hair, before gripping and tilting your head back.

Your breath hitched, and you finally met his eyes.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, giving you one last out. “You’re sure about this?”

You nodded again. “Yes.”

Bartolomeo let go of your hair, bent down, and hoisted you up over his shoulder. You cried out in surprise, trying to find purchase at this new angle, your legs kicking as he held you in place with one arm. “H-hey, put me down!”

“Not a chance.” He didn’t seem fazed by your tiny kicks, only readjusting his grip so his shoulder wasn’t digging into your stomach. “Just sit tight, you’re comin’ along with me~”

Your face lit up and you started to fight in earnest, squirming on his shoulder and punching at his back. He was hardly moved, making a mental note to actually show you how to throw a punch in case you ever actually were in danger of being kidnapped. Not that he’d ever let that happen while you were part of his crew, but still.

He kicked open the door to his quarters, not caring about the handle he’d need to replace, and tossed you down onto the bed. You bounced on the mattress once, and he was on top of you immediately after, pulling your wrists together in one hand and quickly getting to work winding rope around them.

When he pulled the knot, you gasped, feeling your wrists strain as you squeaked out, “Too tight!”

Initially, panicked, Bartolomeo over-corrected, so you showed him the trick that he should be able to slip two fingers between your wrist and the rope. As he stammered an apology, you grabbed a fistfull of his coat, tugging him down for a kiss.

“You’re fine,” you mumbled between your mouths. “Keep going. Please.”

His heart pounded in his ears. He couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you, or that he was taking to it so easily. Maybe you’d have to do it more often.

“Ya know, I normally don’t take prisoners.” Bartolomeo smiled and pinned your hands above your head, brushing his knuckles across your cheek again. “But after lookin’ at me with those big doe eyes, I just couldn’t resist.”

You stared up at him, putting on a pathetic, pleading look. “What are you going to do with me?”

He smiled wider, sharp teeth on full display. “I’m gonna help myself to the spoils.”

He then took you by the waist and pulled you down to the edge of the bed, undoing your pants and yanking them off before sitting on his knees before you, lifting your legs over his shoulders. With his face this close to your core, he was practically salivating at the sight of your underwear. He pulled aside the cloth covering your sex and inhaled — the scent alone sent so much blood straight to his cock that he was nearly dizzy.

“Fuck,” he breathed, steeling himself, “if you taste as good as you smell, I’m never letting you go.”

You gasped again as he then shoved his tongue against your folds. Your back arched and you tucked your arms to your chest, writhing and whimpering as Bartolomeo licked long, languid strokes from the very base of your entrance to the tip of your clit. You shrieked when he began to nip and suck on the sensitive bud, twisting your hips back and forth in an attempt to pull away. He held fast, continuing his onslaught, until he felt your legs starting to twitch. Only then did he finally relent, licking his lips with a cocky grin.

Fuck, his face covered in your slick was sexy. You whined, hiding your face behind your bound hands, whimpering incoherently. He hooked two fingers around the knot between your wrists and pulled you upright, not allowing you to hide from him as he slammed his mouth against yours. He took advantage of your startled cry, shoving his tongue past your lips and making you taste yourself on him. Moaning softly, you leaned into the kiss, sliding your tongue under his...

Before giving it a sharp nip.

Bartolomeo abruptly pulled away with a mock scowl. He grabbed you by the chin, his hand large enough that his fingers and thumb pressed into your cheeks. You grinned, sticking your tongue out defiantly.

“So that’s how it is, huh?” He switched his hold from your chin to your neck, the sight and feeling of just one hand almost entirely circling your throat making his cock ache. Your breath hitched again, and you reflexively tried to pull your thighs together, feeling your slick dripping down your leg and onto the bed.

He then stood, tipping your head back and undoing his belt with his free hand, finally pulling his cock free. You moaned again, your face flushing deeper as you playfully tried to writhe out of his grip and put on the most pitiful face you could. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again...”

“I know you won’t,” Bartolomeo said, grinning dangerously as he moved his hand from your throat to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair and gripping tight. “That’s why instead of knockin’ your teeth in, we’ll put that mouth of yours to good use.”

With that, he shoved his cock into your mouth, pushing himself in until he hit the tight threshold of your throat. He could hardly hear your muffled shout over the sound of his own guttural sigh, his eyes rolling back. Your stifled moans and whimpers sent vibrations all along his length, and he held you there for a moment longer, then held your head in place as he slid his cock halfway out before shoving it back in.

You squirmed on the bed as he slowly started fucking your face, your tied hands settling on one of his legs. Though you whined around his dick, you still responded to every push and pull with veiled enthusiasm, your heart pounding in your chest and your cunt dripping at the feeling of him filling your mouth so completely.

Bartolomeo finally pulled back far enough that only the tip remained in your mouth, and he tilted your head back to see it on your tongue. A bead of precum swelled and dripped out, and you shivered as the salty, bitter substance hit your tastebuds.

Between heavy breaths, he smiled, practically crooning, “What’s the matter? Don’t like the taste of me fuckin’ your face?” He pulled away and leaned down, his free hand reaching for your cunt.

Eyes wide, you tried to push back. “No, no don’t touch—”

He pushed one finger deep into you, causing you to choke on the last word. He laughed, pumping his finger in and out a few times before sliding in a second with little resistance. You moaned wantonly, your face bright red as you feigned fighting back, pushing against his hand. His laughter only got louder, letting go of your head and taking hold of your wrists again, holding them up over your head and out of the way.

“Who would have guessed,” he teased, increasing his pace, “that a soft thing like you is really a cock-hungry little slut.”

“M’not,” you whimpered, feebly trying to pull away.

“Really?” he mocked, giving a particularly hard push into your cunt. “You sure about that?”

You cried out and shook your head, still struggling as another flood of slick burst forth. “Fucking bastard—”

Bartolomeo forced you onto your back, pinning your wrists down above you. “Hey now, that’s harsh — I might be a bastard, but I still have feelings, y’know.” He finally slowed his pace, leaning down until his nose almost touched yours and adding, “Keep actin’ like a brat and callin’ me names though. I might just drag you up to the deck like this for the whole crew to see.”

Your eyes widened, cheeks turning a whole new shade of red as you searched his face. Something in the back of your mind told you there was no way he was serious, but then something else piped up that he might actually be into that sort of thing. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His grin was just a touch below sinister as he said, “Call me another name and find out.”

He then added a third finger.

You jerked your hips upward with a scream, “Fuck me!”

Bartolomeo let go of your wrists and pulled his fingers out, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you further up the bed. He kicked off his pants as he straddled you and spread you legs. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He lifted your legs up and reached down for your underwear, before pausing. “Uh... serious question.”

You cocked your head, your breath heavy from the adrenaline coursing through you. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, tracing a finger along the wet patch on your underwear, biting his lip at the shiver he received in response. “How uh... attached are you to these?”

You smiled and shook your head. “Not at all.”

Bartolomeo smiled back, face flushed, before his expression turned sinister once more. “I’ve always wanted to do this—”

The fabric tore effortlessly, the waistband digging into your skin before snapping as he ripped the offending garment free. You gasped, your cunt pushing forth another burst of fluid, aching with need. He tossed the scraps aside, then turned you over onto your stomach, lifting your ass up level to his hips. After a few long strokes of his cock between your folds, he pushed in, both of you groaning with relief.

From there, Bartolomeo was bent over you completely, his enormous frame neatly fitting over top of your body. He kept one hand on your wrists, pinning them out in front of you, while his other arm circled beneath your waist and kept your ass in the air. He leaned down and began leaving bites along your neck and shoulder, his teeth drawing angry red lines in their wake. He growled low in his chest — he wasn’t even sure why; all he knew in that moment was the angle was perfect and so were you and he was determined to pump you so full of jizz that you’d be leaking for days.

On your end, you were in sheer bliss. You couldn’t believe you’d hesitated to ask Bartolomeo to do this. You shifted slightly to help him push in even deeper, feeling him bottom out in your cunt in a way that made you scream. With every thrust that was deeper than the last, every time his teeth threatened to break skin, the incoherent growling under his breath — you were starting to get dizzy from the stimulation. At this rate, you’d probably go mad with ecstacy.

Pressure began to build. Bartolomeo quickened his pace, his teeth drew pinpricks of blood as he finally broke your skin after a hard scratch. You wailed, throwing your head back and nearly head-butting him. Desperate, you managed to wriggle the knot around your wrists free from his grip, slipping your hands downward to meet his. You repositioned them so the backs of your hands were parallel to the bed, left under right, and nestled under his massive palm, fingers peeking out on your left hand to slip between his.

Something about the gesture, how comforting it was in the moment, how it was the only way you could hold onto him from your position, all of it sent Bartolomeo teetering over the edge. The arm around your waist shifted as he frantically tried to reach your clit, and when he did, he barely even brushed his finger over it before you were screaming again. Your head violently jerked backward, your vision filling with stars as your core clenched and euphoria flooded every one of your senses. He buried his face into your shoulder, screaming an elongated “FFFFUCK” against your skin as he came shortly after, your cunt spasming around him.

Soon, his thrusts slowed, hips jerking forward sporadically as he emptied himself deep inside of you. You whined, biting your lip and dreading the moment when he pulled out.

Eventually, his breathing evened out, and he could feel his dick beginning to soften. He kissed along your shoulder and neck, both of you wincing as he finally shifted his hips back and slowly released his hold around your waist. You flopped down on your side, a satisfied smile on your face, just as he noticed the faint lines of blood on your shoulder.

“AH! SHIT! HOLD STILL, UH—” Bartolomeo leapt off the bed, searching around the room for first aid. You struggled to push yourself upright, trying to get a good look at what he was so worried about. All you saw were a few teeth marks and what you could only describe as cat scratches, barely even breaking the skin.

Before long, Bartolomeo stumbled back onto the bed on his knees, reaching for you and retreating a few times, as if he wasn’t sure if he should touch you in your horribly injured state. He started babbling, “I-I shouldn’t have been so rough — I’m sorry — I can’t believe I hurt you—”

You threw your arms up over his head, your tied hands creating a closed loop as you pulled him down for a soft kiss. He tensed, eyes wide, before quickly melting in your hold, pulling you onto his lap and hugging you close. When you broke away, you were giggling, and he was still trying to apologize.

“Did you ever hear me say the safeword?” you asked, cutting into his thoughts and finally shutting him up. When he shook his head, you continued, “That’s because I didn’t. I didn’t need to use it.”

“But... I hurt you...”

You smiled and kissed him again. “And that’s okay. You did it with my permission.” You lifted your arms back over his head, putting your wrists between your chests. “Now untie me so I can show you the next part.”

Bartolomeo’s eyes widened, his face flushing a deep crimson. “W-wait, there’s more? But we’re — I mean, if it’s another round, it’s gonna be a minute— ACK—”

You tweaked his septum ring, making his eyes water. “Untie me so I can show you how to do aftercare. You’re gonna love this even more than the sex.”

#happy belated valentines~#here's that oneshot I promised <3 #bartolomeo x you #bartolomeo x reader #bartolomeo #bartolomeo one piece #bartolomeo the cannibal #oneshot #one piece x reader #reader insert

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tnsophiaonly · 1 year ago

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"I refuse to be controlled, I am the controller not the controlled!"

Said the Creator whom is stuck in strings of their devotees love.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Nothing really to be worried of~

Ignore the amount of italics and bold here.... I just rlly felt like placing it I dunno, for a dramatic effect?

Cursing and Well ig uh? Death?? I dunno.

—l—o—r—t—n—o—C—

"No!" You screamed out, exploring your body with your own hands to see any difference as you felt your body shifting away from reality once again.

Ah. Your head hurts.

It feels like Dendro cores exploding in your mind.

You felt your vision getting dizzy.

Your hand reaches out for the floor but it only zapped you in the process.

Snapping you from the dizziness. Why is the floor zapping?

Oh. The floor was embodied by electro.

The whole room is.

What the hell?

You stood up but stumbled upon doing so. Aghk! It zapped you again when you fell flat on the floor.

You stood up, reaching out your hand for supports.

Ugh, your head hurts.

Was this a trap? Fuck.

Your mask fell off. Well, your ¼ mask fell off.

And the dizziness disappeared.

But you were left with less electro resistance, and the electro hurts.

You try your best to put the mask on again.

And successfully wore it. Covering your left/right eye (which you prefer)

Whatever happened earlier, you have to get out of here first. You ripped the shoji in the middle to get out easily and ran as fast as you can, sliding left right, you don't even know where you are now.

Your foot hurts from the electro zapping. And also the fact that you're so dizzy, just makes it so hard to run. Your whole body aches and you fail to see the wall you're running to. It zapped you.

You ended up falling down and you lost consciousness.

—y—t—i—l—a—e��R—

"Wake up!!!"

You shoot your eyes open. And looked around.

A family member/guardian had a nasty scowl. They've been waking you up for 15 minutes straight already.

As you try your best to engulf the reality around you, ehem, you're surroundings, which you are failing miserably as you can't even tell if it's real or not.

You look for a clock, and you see your phone, which your guardian/family member stopped you from doing so.

"You have school you know? You're gonna be late if you don't stand up!" They said, your eyes widen, YOU HAVE SCHOOL!!! omg you forgot for real.

"Well- I just need to check the time." You reasoned out to your guardian/family member. They nodded but they still have their eyes on you, still with a scowl in their face. You opened your phone and there was time. This wasn't enough. You look for a watch.

You found one and it says 5:30 AM, oh. You're class starts at 6! You stood up quickly in panic but it was wobbly and you almost fell, if it weren't for your guardian/family member supporting you. Their scowl turns into a worried look.

"Are you alright?" They asked, "You know if you're not feeling well, you can stay home right? Unless you're pretending of course.." They murmured the last part. You shook your head.

"I'm fine I swear. Probably just because of what happened in a dream of mine that felt so real. But I'm okay." You stood up, still wobbly but better than earlier. You tried your best to sound unconcerned and okay.

They looked at you at first looking at you suspiciously. But soon, let it slide. They inform you that breakfast is downstairs.

Then they walk out of your room.

You sat on your bed. Sighing.

What was that about? What just happened? You sighed again.

You prepared for school, then attended school. It was Friday...!!

The last day. It finally ended and you went home! Not a scratch! Then you have 11 homeworks due on Monday.

Sighing loudly and frustrated.

You decided to do homeworks first, while, checking Genshin out.

You see a notification in the inventory. And Sara is actually at constellation 6? And not only that you have a ¼ mask and the magical bag in your inventory which had a description of;

Charming Fate of Gems.

★★★★★

The creator's, which descended in Teyvat to bless its land and flowers, with a mask and identity as the initial K. A. Upon landing in the Electro Archon's Nation of Eternity, meeting the The Almighty Shogun, Narukami Ogosho and Kujou Sara and an individual titled as an oracle "(S/M)". Dropping such a treasure and being worshipped and prayed on in the main temple or shrine of the creator. It's worth Teyvat itself.

Treasure Inventory of Infinity.

★★★★★

A storage kind of from Your Grace themselves. Such thing has kept many of the creator's belongings. Inazuman and Plain Attire that has a scent of superiority and cinnamon, Dishes that are otherworldly and confirmed to be the creator's food from the other world, Clear Water that contains otherworldly minerals that is meant for the creator themselves, Healing Kit that had everything you need for healing any kind of sickness and injury, it even can heal Eleazer. And 1000 mora that has been blessed by the creator's delicate hands. The storage is being worshipped and prayed on in the main temple or shrine of the creator. Anyone who touches or damages the treasure shall be executed under the name of the creator.

What the hell. So was your dream not a dream at all? You don't even wanna come back. Not only that, when you explored the places, so many things were so weird, ex. The Barbatos statue in Mondstadt isn't as big and clean as the statue of YOU.

There's also Statues around Teyvat of YOU.

Not only that, everyone worships you. And every character's voicelines changed when you added them to the team, a lot of their voice lines changed, and when you asked someone else to play, it was back to normal?

And you swear, you could see the blushes in their faces when you zoom on them.

Not only that, when you play Genshin, every enemy doesn't even fight you, even if you attack them, in fact they even give you more drops than usual except for the treasure hoarders! Even the Fatui doesn't fight you, and when you fight Childe, Childe just, gives up and gives you the drops, giving you 8 dream solvents, 5 star artifacts with great main stat and subs stats ex. 8.9% crit rate main stat and 10.1% crit damage, 17 atk, 6.7% energy recharge in level 1. And when you enhance it to 20 it doesn't give you any defense or hp or atk. Unless you want that ofc. And like 5 boss drops, Childe swears that he'll give you more but it's the game files stopping him from doing so.

The same goes for every weekly boss. And after talking to Raiden? Her drops are literally the best out of all, and the other boss really envies her as you praise her through the screen. But when other people play, they get the normal ones or like the bad ones. You're the only one with good ones.

And you're primogems, yeah. Primogems. You currently have 39,673 fates both acquaint and intertwined fates. And your primogems are currently at 112,345,678. Yeah, very abnormal, at this point you could C6 and R5 every character in the game, and make them all DPS because of your artifacts... They're all too good.

But when it's other people playing, the primogems turns to 1677 and the intertwined fates is 16 and the acquaint fates is 5.

But if you want the boss to fight you, they will fight you, and so do the enemies.

Whatever what, you're still grateful but worried, concerned, and afraid.

Because, whoever said no one could follow you here must be lying.

Hmm I wonder what that means. Well either way, don't mind me reading other SAGAU stories for motivation 🤩🥰

Might switch to modernish *wiggly eyebrows 🤭*

Anyways, school starts on Monday so I might not post for a while but I'll try my best!!!

Taglist(???)

@khalhaimdad

@yourlocalstranger123

@undecidingfate

@urog1

@mmeatt

#genshin impact #sagau #sagau cult au #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #impostor au #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere #yandere x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #reader

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juuuulez · 1 year ago

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about the negan requests i don’t know if they’re still open but img i’ve been craving father!negan so bad recently i cantttt

i was just thinking like imagine how protective he’d be like he’d do anything for you and i’m imagining him killing people for you like if you were caught or taken for being his daughter and then bam he kills everyone. UGH i can’t hes so dad 💔💔

obv if you’re not up for it ignore this but i’d love to read it thabk you queen good night ❤️

info: Negan x Daughter! Reader, platonic hurt/comfort, kidnapping, torture, choking, omg sorry this was dark, but also sooo cute, he is father.

summary: After his daughter is kidnapped, Negan kills to get her back.

you are SO RIGHT he is absolutely so dad

i’ve left it open to interpretation, so you can decide if you’re his actual daughter or just a found family/adopted situation like my capulet series

this was soooo much fun to write, it got lowkey dark but i’ve been needing something grimy

“This isn’t going to work the way you think it will.”

You were currently trying to convince your stubborn captor that this whole kidnapping thing wasn’t going to play out well.

After a supply run gone wrong, you’d been taken by a member of a rival group, with the intention of getting leverage against the Saviours. Simultaneously, they attempted to get some cooperation out of you, figuring there was no better ransom than a begging daughter.

It was this strange, metal contraption. You were chained to a chair, by the hands and feet. A steel collar was fixed around your neck, with a rotating knob at the back, which upon movement, lessened the circumference, tightening the metal collar around your neck.

Because of this, you held little control of the situation. Your captor knew this, refusing to give in to your half-assed reasoning.

“I dunno, darlin’,” He chimed, the nickname sounding gross on an unfamiliar tongue, “I think this is workin’ pretty well.”

The man moves behind you, twisting the metal fidget, letting the collar close in on your neck. In response, you lift your head to try and gain any extra room, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to even breathe.

“Now, speak into the mic, babe. Make it sound genuine, we wanna really rile ‘em up.”

When you don’t respond, refusing to plead for your life, to be reduced to begging, he only tightens the contraption. You let out a strained noise, chewing down on your bottom lip, trying to breathe through your nose in hopes of staying conscious.

A burly hand comes into vision, clasping your nostrils closed, completely cutting off your airway. The knob ticks over a few more inches to the right, the sensation now becoming outright painful, harsh metal cutting into your flesh.

It’s all starting to get a little spotty, but you stand your ground. Last time, you’d passed out, and the process had simply started again from the beginning. But this wouldn’t wear you out. You were stronger, at least, you hoped you were.

Luckily, there’s the distant smash of glass, a whirr and pop noise wizzing past your face, eyes still clenched closed. Everything goes fuzzy, dark spots invading your vision, even as the silence erupts into groans of pain.

Your captor lays on the floor, bullet wound to the shoulder. One hand clasps the gun at his side, only for another shot to land right through his meaty wrist. There’s a slight commotion, but it all sounds like distant mumbles, drowned out by a cotton-like blanket of distortion.

“Load ‘em up. I’ll deal with him back home.”

The voice is familiar, but you don’t have the capacity to understand, still teetering on the edge of consciousness. Then, the confines around your neck are loosened, and suddenly you’re granted access to air again.

It’s all too much, too fast, the sharp inhale only worsening your dizzy state. You yank at your hands, wanting to soothe the painful gash along your neck, but find that the metal brackets still restrain your wrists.

“Hey, hey. Just breathe for me, baby-girl. Can you focus on that?”

Warm hands on your face, are the first thing you notice. Holding you still, so your head doesn’t slump over. You mentally note the absence of gloves, but don’t know what to do with this information, otherwise simply comforted by the air of safety provided.

Your vision comes back slowly, still all fuzzy at the edges, but you can make out what’s important. Negan, in front of you, kneeling. One hand is holding your face still, the other working at the cuffs on your wrists and ankles.

He’s bloody.

So, so bloody. It’s stained all over his leather jacket and jeans, splattered up his arms, likely the reason behind removing the gloves. Some is even on the side of his face, colouring the slight greyish hue of his stubble red.

It all snaps back to you in an instant, like suddenly you’ve gained awareness, fully conscious of everything that’s just happened.

You twist your head around, searching for the body of your captor, only to spot a bloody streak across the concrete floor. “Where is he?” You ask, breathless, throat all raspy and sore from being choked.

“Shh, it’s okay. He’s gone. Dwight’s putting him in the van,” Negan assures you, helping to shift you out of the metal chair, figuring your legs would hurt from being confined. “Wanna know what I’ll do to him?”

You find yourself nodding, head coming down to rest on Negan’s shoulder. He smooths his hand over your hair, nails gently scratching at your scalp, brushing the strands back. His other hand rests on your knees, trying to help stretch your muscles after being confined for so long.

“I’m gonna cut his tongue out, and let him choke on the blood,” Negan whispers into your ear, “Then, Lucille’s gonna smash every bone in his body, starting from the feet. Might leave just his head behind. Throw it out into the yard with the other walkers.”

It’s surprisingly relaxing, like you’re being told a quiet story, or a lullaby. Suddenly, the concrete floor is the most comfortable thing you’ve ever sat on, and even the stench of blood isn’t of concern. It’s all perfect.

“You’ll let me help?” You ask, a hopeful lilt to your tired voice.

Negan runs his hand down to your neck, thumb rubbing over the deep bruise marred over your skin. “No, baby. We’ll get you home and into bed. Let me handle this.”

You can’t find the strength to protest, not opposed to the idea of curling up in bed. Everything still felt hazy, and you were all lightheaded, so you doubted that you’d be much help, anyway.

So, Negan lifts you up into his arms, subsequently getting blood all over your clothes. Not that it mattered, anyway. You didn’t mind.

Having somebody who loves you enough to kill was plenty.

#negan smith x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #twd x you #negan smith #the walking dead #negan smith x you

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miasmaghoul · 9 months ago

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Okay, you said you wanted non-sexual prompts, so if this is a no thats totally fine. Could you write like casual piss? I don't know how to word this. No smut involved, just domestic? If that makes sense...

anon please know that the phrase "casual, domestic piss" has been on repeat in my weird little brain since i first read this, and also that i had an idea for it immediately

god i am such a pissboy smh

anyway, here, have some soft rulti ft a little casual, domestic piss.

what a sentence.

Rain is not what you could call a morning person.

He never rouses before noon, at least not willingly, and even when he is awake he simply migrates. Shuffles out of bed and drapes himself dramatically over a sofa to doze back off until someone pays attention to him. Trying to wake Rain up before he's ready is a futile task at best, and at worst a bite risk. Generally this isn't much of a problem - mass is in the evening, there are no strictly scheduled mealtimes or chores, so Rain is free to be as slothful as his heart desires.

Even rehearsal doesn't usually interfere.

On an average day, any practice happens whenever the ghouls feel like it. There's no rhyme or reason to it, really; sometimes they have creative energy that needs expressing, sometimes Dew gets a bug up his ass about working on a solo and drags along company, sometimes Mountain gets in one of his moods and hauls Rain over his shoulder for an impromptu...rhythm session.

Point is, it's not really something that's planned. More of a casual affair, something they do every day but never the same way twice. Again, this works out perfectly for Rain. There's never a rush to start the day, and the others know by now not to expect him at anything close to a reasonable hour.

The issue arises when tours approach.

Unfortunately (for Rain), Copia has proven to be a morning person. Rain (somewhat) silently laments that fact every time Sister Imperator announces a new leg, a new cycle. Every time, Rain hopes it'll be different. That Copia will suddenly despise the idea of singing with the morning sun, that he won't expect them to be up and ready to go by 9am, can you imagine?

(It should be noted that Rain is the only ghoul that actually minds this.)

Alas, this never proves to be the case, and as soon as his phone chimed with the notification of an Imperator meeting Rain knew that his beauty sleep was soon to be severely compromised.

"Next week," Copia had said after Sister Imperator laid out the proposed itinerary. "Next week, on Sunday, we will resume our standard rehearsal schedule."

He'd handed out a list of thirty songs to each of them, a not-so-short list for the ghouls to study and provide input on. An opportunity for them to put together their own setlists to compare and contrast them with one another.

Rain had used his sheet of paper to hide his frown, dreading the fact that Sunday was only five sleeps away.

"I know that face," Swiss had teased when they left the meeting, looping a strong arm around Rain's shoulders. "Someone's being a pouty princess again."

Rain had given him a hiss, but Swiss just grinned at him in that very Swiss way and, well, Rain can never stay mad at him anyway.

"Not all of us look good with eye bags like yours" he'd grumbled, a statement that had wrung a loud ha from Swiss.

"I dunno," he'd snickered, ducking his head to knock his horns with Rain's. "You look pretty damn good when I tire you out."

Rain had rolled his eyes so hard he'd gotten dizzy, but it wasn't an accusation he could deny.

He also couldn't deny Swiss the opportunity to prove his point, and as they lay in the afterglow Rain gives a mighty yawn.

"This's bullshit," he slurs against Swiss' chest, nuzzling into the spot that smells the most like pepper and whisky and old weed. "Who even gets up that early?"

"Most of the abbey is up at dawn," Swiss chuckles, settling into Rain's lanky hold. "You're the exception to the rule, starfish."

Rain would argue, but then Swiss' purr kicks up and he's sinking his fingers into his sweat-damp waves and Rain feels little desire to do more than enjoy the way Swiss envelopes him. The way their skin sticks together with drying sweat, among other things. Swiss had given him a courteous cleanup where it mattered, but Rain's entirely too wiped out for a shower. Wonderfully sore all over, drained, and way too dehydrated to stand up for very long.

He doesn't mind it though - not when it makes him smell like Swiss too.

"Whatever," he grumbles, grabbing the covers and tugging them up over his shoulders. "S'still bullshit."

He's been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last twenty minutes or so, drifting on casual conversation and the brush of Swiss' fingertips along his bare back. Now that they're finally settling in Rain finds himself fading by the second.

"Don' wake me up'n the morning," he adds with another yawn, and the last thing Rain hears before all goes quiet is the raspy little laugh Swiss gives in return.

The next thing he hears is rushing water, creaking pipes and the telltale twitter of birdsong.

It feels like no time at all since he sunk into the peaceful realm of sleep, but when he dares to crack an eye Rain finds himself assaulted by rosy sunlight. Morning. Early, by the look of it. Rain shuts his eyes tight and groans.

"Finally," a deep voice hums, clearly amused. Footsteps pad across the floor and Rain feels the mattress dip behind him. "I've been shaking you for ten minutes."

Swiss reaches up to scratch at the base of one of Rain's horns, affectionate. Rain makes an unhappy sound, as close to a real whine as he ever gets, and Swiss gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Why 'm I awake?" Rain hates his morning voice, all thick and inelegant. "Did I sleep 'til Sunday?"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of bed," Swiss chuffs, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Rain's ear. "Let's go, up 'n at 'em," he encourages, regardless of continual grumbly protests. "You might as well get used to existing before lunchtime while you can."

"This is torture," Rain complains, tucking his knees up towards his chest. "Inhumane."

"Good thing we aren't human, I guess."

Rain cracks an eye open just to shoot Swiss' blurry visage a sideways glare. Swiss winks as he lifts the covers just enough to lean down and press a kiss to Rain's shoulder. He rests his chin there after, gives him a warm smile.

"C'mon, raindrop," he lilts, sneaking lithe fingers under the covers. Dragging them along the nape of Rain's neck. "I'm drawing you a bath, surely you can forgive me."

Ah, that would explain the water he can still hear. Rain blinks at him, sluggish.

"Remains to be seen," he grouses, "but it's a start."

Swiss flashes him a grin, and then those warm, cozy covers are ripped from Rain's naked body with no ceremony. He yelps as the chilly morning air hits his skin, more awake than he ever intended to be and scowling at the other ghoul.

"Oh don't make that face," Swiss teases, reaching down to give Rain's nose a gentle flick. "C'mon, I put that weird shit you like in the tub and everything."

Swiss holds Rain's ankle, rubs his thumb over the bony ridge of it while Rain sniffs at the air. Picks up notes of rosemary and peppermint, citrus and rose. The bath salts Mountain had gifted him for Yule, an energizing scent that's sure to chase the exhaustion from his muscles.

Still, he can't give in that easily.

"Fine," he pouts, stretching his legs and not at all adoring the way Swiss' fingers glide along his skin. "But only if you carry me."

The words earn him an extreme eye roll, but Swiss can't hide his amusement. He heaves a mighty sigh, cracks his neck and knuckles, and Rain most definitely doesn't watch the muscles in his arms and chest flex.

"As you command, princess."

Swiss says it with an exaggerated bow, and then he's scooping Rain up with no further preamble. Rain snickers, looping his arms around Swiss' neck and nuzzling into his shoulder. He's warm and solid, comfy, and if the walk to the bathroom was more than ten steps Rain could very easily drift off again.

As it stands, he's being set down far too soon for his liking, letting out a squeak when his bare ass meets the cold marble of his vanity. Swiss kisses him on the forehead when Rain frowns once again, giving his stomach a little tickle just to make him squirm.

"You want it hot or scalding?" Swiss asks as he strides to the tub, steam wafting around him. Rain stares unabashedly at his ass, eyes tracing the obvious bite mark he left there the night before.

"Boil me like a lobster," Rain sighs, stretching his arms over his head and trilling at the way his spine pops. Swiss gives him a thumbs up, twisting the faucet knobs while Rain yawns. "How much salt did you put in?"

"Enough to make you smell like the greenhouse for a week," Swiss replies, testing the temperature and only hissing a little at the heat. Rain takes a deep breath, taking in the herbal steam and letting it soak into his skin. "Mount'll be all over you."

"Don't sound so jealous," Rain says with a sleepy tilt, scratching at his chest, "you can share me once in a while."

Swiss snorts as he wipes his hand on the bath mat, turning back with a lazy smile on his face. Rain blows him a kiss while he swings his feet, ankles crossed, and doesn't complain when Swiss crowds him closer to the mirror ar his back. Palms planted on the vanity so he can lean in and nose at Rain's temple.

"You assume I want to share," Swiss rumbles, possessive fangs grazing Rain's jaw. It gives him the shivers in the best way, but Swiss doesn't push further. He steps back so Rain can see the sparkle in his golden eyes, the wrinkles at their corners. He's beautiful, and if Rain were in a more giving mood he'd say so. As it stands...

"You can cope," he mumbles, nose in the air, and earns another eye roll. Rain sticks his tongue out at the other ghoul just because he can, reaching for his comb to try and work out some of the knots Swiss gifted him last night. Before he can grab it, though-

"Ah," Swiss interrupts, batting at Rain's hand. Rain raises a brow as Swiss picks up the comb instead, moving to stand in front of him again. "You're playing princess this morning, remember?" He twirls the comb between two fingers, the same motion he does when he steals Mountain's sticks. "Lemme take care of you like one."

Swiss offers a roguish wink, and while some part of Rain knows that an offer like this - especially from Swiss - always comes with caveats, he can't find it in himself to argue. Blame it on sleep deprivation (nine hours isn't nearly enough), but all he can do is hum and nod.

"If you insist," he yawns, leaning forward to rest his cheek gainst Swiss' pecs, "but don't be surprised if you put me back to sleep."

Swiss' laugh resonates through his skull, dull claws scratch at his scalp, and the purr that kicks up in Rain's chest when he begins to comb is one he has no control over.

Swiss talks to him while he works, picking out every tangle he can find. Talks about everything and nothing, from the places they'll be playing this next tour, to the fitting for their new uniforms. Rain hums where appropriate, but mostly he drifts. Basks in the scratch of Swiss' chest hair against his cheek and the care with which he fixes his hair. It can't take more than a few minutes, but it feels like forever in the best way.

"Alright," Swiss eventually murmurs, stroking delicate fingers through Rain's knot-free waves. A delightful feeling that could put Rain back to sleep all on its own. "Ready for the bath, your highness?"

Rain huffs out a soft laugh, nips at his chest just hard enough to make Swiss jump. He's woozy when he sits up, half present and more than a little floaty, so relaxed he may yet melt into the sink beside him. He yawns again, smacks his lips while Swiss twirls a curl around his finger.

"Mm," Rain hums with a bleary blink. He reaches up to sling both arms around Swiss' neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Almost," he sighs against Swiss' mouth. The other ghoul pulls back, gives him a quizzical look. "Gotta pee first," Rain elaborates, shooing Swiss away. "C'mon, lemme up."

"Nah," Swiss replies, waving a hand, and it takes Rain a second to register it. He grins again, happy as a clam, and then he's hoisting Rain up by the backs of his thighs and all Rain can do is scrabble at his back with a yelp, clinging.

"What the -"

Before he can get the words out, Swiss is setting him down again, right in front of the toilet. Lets Rain get his feet under him, holding his hips until he's balanced, and then he's pressing a quick kiss to his horn. Rain blinks up at him, opens his mouth to speak, but then Swiss is turning him on the spot. Snuggling himself right up to Rain's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder, dragging the tip of his nose along the shell of his ear.

"As you wish," he croons, low, and Rain chuckles. Leans back into that broad chest and moves to aim at the bowl, eager to empty himself so he can finally slide into the herbal soup Swiss has so lovingly prepared.

Swiss grabs his wrist before he can manage it, though, and Rain just stares at it. Blinks. Swiss lifts his hand to his lips, kisses Rain's palm.

"Uh-uh," he breathes, warm against his skin, "I told you, sweetheart," another kiss, to the inside of Rain's wrist, "lemme take care of you."

Rain shivers at the feel of a large hand coming to rest low on his stomach, the one holding his wrist guiding in to rest over Swiss' own hand. Rain stares down at them, laces his fingers with Swiss', and heaves a deep sigh when Swiss' other hand slides over his hip. Tracing the line of his happy trail with two fingertips, until he reaches the soft swell of Rain's cock.

Swiss takes it in hand, aims, and Rain feels the strangest bloom of warmth in his chest.

"Go on," Swiss encourages, kissing the hinge of his jaw, "when you're done I'll even scrub your back."

"You'd do that anyway," Rain replies, and Swiss gives him a half shrug.

"A little incentive never hurts."

Rain snorts, but doesn't feel the need to argue. He takes in the way his cock looks in Swiss' hand, pale against his skin, nothing sexual about it regardless of their position. Of the way he can feel every inch of Swiss against his back, warm and comfortable and familiar. It's intimate, to be sure, but in a context Rain isn't sure he's ever felt before.

Rain offers a pleased sigh when the last drops hit the water, lets Swiss give it a couple shakes, and then he's turning in his arms. Planting a kiss on his stubbled chin.

He gives Swiss' hand a squeeze, presses it into his belly, and both of them groan when the first few dribbles leak out. It's no time before Rain can let go fully, a steady stream of relief, silly giggles escaping him when Swiss moves his dick around to draw shapes in the water. Swirls and circles and a their initials, because Swiss doesn't know how not to be a sap.

"Better?"

"Better," Rain smiles, wrapping long arms around Swiss' waist. "Now get me in that tub, I'm sick of being sticky."

Swiss laughs, gives him a squeeze, and this time Rain's expecting to be lifted.

"Such a princess," Swiss complains, lowering him into the steaming bath, and Rain groans. Swiss ruffles his hair, wasting no time in sliding into the tub behind him.

"Guess that makes you my prince," Rain mumbles, resting back against him the moment Swiss settles, and the pleased purr that rattles through his chest is almost enough to turn it into a jacuzzi.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #a full fic actually but oh well #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain/swiss #rain x swiss #rulti #this is weird ngl #but have it anyway

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bruisedboys · 2 years ago

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SATURN — send me a character + an au and I’ll write a blurb! (e.g rockstar!eddie, modern!steve, rugby-player!james)

um i cannot resist rugby james so uh

rugby player!james + praises and kisses before he goes onto the field xxxxx

gosh I’m obsessed with him. I want to have his kids fr. thank you for this godsent request ily <3

summary: james is nervous for his rugby match. luckily, you know just the cure for nerves.

gn!reader 900 words

James was nervous. Unusual for him.

He couldn’t help it. This was his first real game where you would actually be in the stands, watching him play in person. You’d been to a couple of his trainings, and definitely heard a lot of overly detailed play-by-plays from him of previous games, but this was different. You would actually be there.

He honestly felt like he was going to throw up.

“James, stop pacing for a minute, would you?”

James stopped, because it was impossible to say no to you, and was left standing in the middle of the locker room aimlessly. He ran both hands through his hair aggressively.

You sighed. “Oh, Jamie,” you said, all sympathetic and sweet and fucking adorable.

You stood up from your spot on the bench, approaching James until you were so close he could smell your perfume, the one he’d bought you barely two weeks ago. Your feet slotted in between his like they were meant to. He stared down, your black converse in between his rugby shoes.

“What’re you so worked up for, hm?”

Your hands found James’s waist, arms pushing under his until your hands were splayed across his lower back. The movement bought you even closer to him, your stomachs pressed together. James felt dizzy — it had nothing to do with the nerves. He put his hands on your hips, thumbs dragging over the curve of your hip bones.

“I dunno,” he lied. It wasn’t easy for James to lie to you. His voice went all jumpy and weird.

You hummed knowingly. James got the feeling you could read his mind. When he lifted his eyes to meet yours, you were looking at him with all the fondness in the world — he almost melted on the spot.

“Is it because I’m here?” Yep. You could definitely read his mind.

James tried not to look like he’d been caught red-handed, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Well—“

“Because I can go wait in the stands, if you want. Maybe if you just pretend I’m not here, then—“

“No!”

You started and blinked at him owlishly.

“Sorry,” James breathed. He hadn’t mean to yell out like that, but he thought he might die if you left him now. “I … no. Don’t leave. That would make it worse.”

“Oh,” you said, looking thoughtful. Then,

“Would a kiss help?” You asked, shy as you rocked gently on your heels.

James nodded so fast he was worried he’d hurt his neck. Not that it mattered, not that he cared, because now you were tilting your chin up, getting on your tiptoes to press your lips into his. What was meant to be a short kiss turned messy when James reciprocated rougher than he’d meant to — he couldn’t help himself. Your teeth clashed, your noses bumped, and in his haste James accidentally caught your bottom lip in between his teeth. He went to keep trying but then you were smiling against his mouth, huffing a soft laugh through your nose.

“James,” you chided, his name drifting from your lips and into his.

James made a sound halfway between a grunt and a whine. His brain was a little scattered. You giggled further, pulling away but keeping your hands fitted to his waist.

“You’re gonna be great,” you said surely. Your hand rubbed up and down his side soothingly. James felt your touch like a blazing trail of stars.

“I’m gonna be great,” he agreed with a firm nod, half to make you stop worrying about him, and half because you were actually starting to make him believe it.

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, Jamie,” you said cheesily, a corny line that James should’ve groaned at. He didn’t, because you were smiling so prettily he’d hate himself if he made that go away.

James gave your hips a squeeze. “Fuck yeah, I am,” he affirmed.

You beamed. “I’m excited to watch you,” you said bashfully.

James knew it was cruel but he couldn’t help teasing you. He pinched at your side, quipping, “Why, because I’m such a hunk?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, pushing yourself off of him and wrinkling your nose. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“You are so full of yourself,” you complained, though you weren’t really complaining, not one bit. James could tell by the heat in your cheeks that he’d totally hit the nail on the head.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He said, not sounding very sorry at all. He moved towards you so he could take you in his arms again. He missed you, even though it had been exactly five seconds since you’d stepped away. Bringing his hands to your waist he pulled you flush against him. “‘Nother kiss?”

He didn’t really give you any time to answer. He just leaned down, slotting his lips to yours so your half-hearted protest got lost in the clumsy kiss. He breathed you in, your familiar scent, your hands squished into the space between your chests, your lips that made his own buzz with electricity and sticky fondness. He deepened this kiss by a notch and you sighed, matching his energy without missing a beat. James thought he could stay like this forever.

A trio of James’s teammates passed through the locker room, talking loudly. When they saw you and James, one of them wolf-whistled. The others laughed.

James flipped them off and kept kissing you.

#ღ james #★ mal writes!#✿ 300 celebration!#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x gn!reader #james potter x reader fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fic #rugbyplayer!james #rugbyplayer!james potter #james potter #✉️

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taeraeszn · 1 year ago

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i started squealing to myself when i read where zb1 finds you accidentally falling asleep on their team member T^T

would it be possible to request zb1 patting your head/caressing your hair? i think that would be so cute.. thank you !!

when zb1 pats your head/caresses your hair

omg your so sweet anon!! thank you for the nice words about my reaction post <3 i seriously smiled so much reading your request!! and ofc i'll write it!!

warnings: food, cursing, and mention of fear. but nothing else from what i see, lmk if there is any i should add!

kim jiwoong

you haven't seen jiwoong in nearly a month due to the tour zb1 was currently having

you were so proud of him and how far he came, but god you just missed his presence so much. you often found yourself scrolling through old texts and looking back at the pictures you favourited of jiwoong

but what you didn't know was that jiwoong actually came back to seoul! he just wanted to surprise you since he figured just telling you was too boring

you were fast asleep on the couch after binge watching a k-drama on netflix. the door clicked open and jiwoong walked into this scene, immediately chuckling

"of course they were watching a k-drama..." he whispers to himself

he puts his bag down and makes his way towards you, he bends down to the ground level to get a closer look of your face

jiwoong then decides to leave a sweet kiss on your forehead <3 as well as caressing your hair softly

just then you wake up, sight still dizzy as you were deep in your sleep. as you looked around, you met eyes with your partner and immediately engulfed him into your arms

"JIWOONG!" you exclaimed, he gave you that iconic smirk and kissed you gently on the lips

"i missed seeing you." he said. your face was nuzzled into his neck, "me too..."

"i loved the tour but god i wanted to see you again." he mumbled

"i could say the same..."

rest of the members are under the cut!

zhang hao

"ugh why is this so hard?!" you yelled to yourself. you were attempting to cook something new for dinner, something that is a special dish in hao's home province of fujian

but unfortunately nothing seemed to work as you tried nearly every tip in the cookbook, you were growing extremely frustrated and were close to just giving up entirely on this dish and just ordering chicken instead

but just then you saw hao walk into your apartment, damn it, it was too late

"baobei?" he called out. you sighed and made your way towards him. he was hanging up his coat in the closet and noticed you when he turned around

"hi..." you greeted. he seemed excited and clasped his hands together, "so what's for dinner tonight?"

"yeah about dinner...it's..." before you could finish your sentence, hao walked into the mess that was the kitchen

there were plates and bowls everywhere, utensils thrown around, and just overall a mess

"care to explain why our kitchen looks like it's in shambles?" his face giving an extremely puzzled look

you shrugged, sitting on the dining room chair, "i dunno, i just wanted to make a dish from fujian just for you, i guess it didn't work out."

hao then smiled (YK WHICH ONE I'M TALKING ABOUT) and patted your head, pulling you into his arms

"baobei, i appreciate you doing this for me, i really do! but if it's giving you too much stress then we can make it together!"

your eyes lit up, "really?"

"absolutely, we're in this together right?"

sung hanbin

after a year of dating, you were finally getting ready to meet hanbin's parents. he had been waiting for this moment ever since you two first met, he knew you were his life partner and he wanted you to meet them

you on the other hand were extremely nervous and had trouble sleeping the entire night, continuously tossing and turning while worrying of every worst scenario possible

making a great first impression was very important to you, embarrassing yourself was your worst fear and the last thing you wanted to happen

the day you were going to meet them was nerve-wracking. hanbin noticed how you were fidgeting with your hands the whole drive there

when a red light halted his driving, he gently held your hand, he could tell from the look on your face that you were worried

"babe, don't be scared. my parents will love you." he reassured, caressing your hair

you sighed, "i'm not sure bin, i'm just so nervous because i want to make a good impression for them."

"and that's okay! you remember how i was acting when i had to meet yours? but it went fine. i've told my parents about you and they're so thrilled to finally see you. in fact, whenever i call them the first thing they ask me about is you!"

"seriously?" you asked, he nodded, "yes trust me baby, everything will be fine."

you took a deep breath in, "your right."

just then the lights turned green and before you knew it, you reached his parent's house

you had your bag in hand, it was full of gifts for his parents and sister as well as some food you had made for them

"ready?" you nodded and headed to the front doorstep, hanbin then rang the doorbell with you feeling less worried than before

seok matthew

you weren't sure how long you had been at your desk, continuously checking if you knew each definition and fact for your upcoming exam

this exam was huge and played a massive part in your final grade, the last you wanted to do was fail

you had your laptop open, notebook open, and pens scattered all over your desk

matthew sighed as he was sat on your bed, he wasn't expecting you to study for this long and was growing concerned over your health

he had also been there for hours and was excited to just spend time with you only for you to begin studying after informing him about your exam

he couldn't take seeing you like this and got up, the first thing he did was take the pen out of your hands and shut your laptop

"hey!" you said, when you made eye contact, he noticed that you eyes were bloodshot red

"you need to take a break." was all he said before picking you up bridal style and putting you down on the bed. he cuddled up right next to you and covered you two with the blanket

"matthew, i need to study."

"you can rest for today and study tomorrow, i just can't stand you pushing yourself this much and not prioritizing your health."

you noticed how matthew's expression darkened, you could tell that he was very worried

"i know..i think i've been so distressed about this exam that i haven't been thinking about myself."

matthew caressed your hair lightly and pressed his lips against your forehead, "don't think about it right now, forget about it."

you nodded, "thank you matt, i love you."

"i love you too."

kim taerae

"babe!" you heard taerae call out, you looked up from your book at saw your boyfriend at the front door

you haven't heard him call you babe in person for the last three days and it was a huge refresher hearing it again

your face immediately softened as you put your book down

taerae quickly pulled you into his arms, his grip being tight and not wanting to let go of you

for context it had been a few days since you'd seen taerae, he was busy filming a new show that required multiple days of shooting since it was outside of seoul

but taerae had been texting you everyday, sending you an update for everything the group did, as well as some handsome selfies you got to keep to yourself

"how was it in paju?" you asked, he giggled, "so fun! we went to the countryside and did some missions for money and just got to relax." seeing him talk about it this excited made you smile, but seeing taerae always made you smile

he noticed you were still reading the book you picked up the exact day he had to leave with his members

"oh how far are you in the book?" you showed him and he noticed that the bookmark you previously had was gone

"i finished it!" his eyes lit up

"that's great! i love seeing you do the things you love such as reading." he said then patting your head

your face was stuffed into his chest as you wrapped your arms around him, "and i love seeing you spending time with the other members. i'm so happy you got to debut..."

"me too."

shen ricky

"ready to go to bed love?" ricky asked, you were writing in your notebook and ricky was ready to fall asleep after your busy day together

you had a habit of writing inside your notebook. it became a regular thing after you randomly decided to one day and you didn't stop after that, the writing usually consisted of what you did during the day

ricky had always wanted to take you to his hometown of shanghai and when your schedule was empty, he thought it was a great idea

you were in the house that he grew up in and you two had just travelled around the beautiful city today

it's safe to say that you now have enough souvenirs to cover your entire room in, and of course the young and rich man offered to pay for everything despite you telling him that he didn't have to

just then you finished writing and closed the book, putting it on the side table, "yup."

ricky smiled, finally able to shut the lights off and cuddle up next to you in the comfy blanket

the room fell silent for a while until you spoke up again, "you know ricky, i just wanted to say thank you for showing me shanghai, i know how much you've been wanting to go."

he caressed your hair lightly, "of course! it's so nice to be back and i knew i had to bring you as well."

"you're amazing shen quanrui." he giggled after hearing you say his real name.

"so are you (name)." you looked at the cat man full of love then kissed his cheek softly

"so what's tomorrow going to be like?"

"hmm not sure, let's see wherever our minds take us."

kim gyuvin

"(name)! come here!" gyuvin shouted, you excused yourself from the conversation you were having with gunwook to see what your boyfriend was calling you for

"what is it?" you said, sitting next to him on the dorm floor, he began caressing your hair lightly and held your hand

"oh nothing i just wanted you to come near me." you rolled your eyes playfully

"y'know i was talking to gunwook about something really interesting." he side eyed you

"more than any conversation you've had with me?"

the little puppy pouted causing you laugh, "of course not."

yujin then joined you guys on the floor, he was observing gyuvin for a while in the kitchen and wanted to expose his hyung

"hey (name), you know that gyuvin hyung was staring at you for the last ten minutes every since you began talking with gunwook hyung?" gyuvin eyes immediately widen and denied this claim

"WHAT? no i wasn't!" you raised your brow

"really gyu?" he shrugged, "okay fine, yeah i'll admit i was staring for a bit."

"more like a lot" yujin rebutted.

gyuvin then nudged yujin playfully, "YOU STAY QUIET!"

yujin began chuckling and left the scene to go back into his room, you then turned to face your boyfriend

"it's cute seeing you jealous." you said, he nuzzled his face into your neck, "oh stop it.."

park gunwook

(sorry everything i do for the maknae line is school related, i don't really know what else to do for them 😭)

you and gunwook were sitting in the field together eating your homemade lunch, you weren't actually planning on even coming to school that day because you were sick

but nonetheless you still decided to because you had an exam today and couldn't miss it

gunwook was clearly worried as you kept coughing and sneezing, he even offered some medicine to you but you kindly refused since you had already taken some

"i think you should just go home now, (name)." he said, eyes filled with concerned

you shook your head, "no, no, i'm fine."

"no you're not. the whole exam period you were trying to hold in your coughs!"

"well yeah because i didn't want our classmates to be grossed out by me."

"don't worry, i can provide you notes for the other classes." for a minute you forgot that gunwook was the class president of your homeroom and realized that he was right

"you're right. i'll take the bus home." he patted your head gently, "make sure to have lots of fluids and medicine okay?"

"i will, don't worry. thank you for being there for me babe."

"i'm always here if you need me."

gunwook decided to walk to the nearby bus stop with you and he even held your hand the whole time while you were waiting for the bus to arrive

when it did arrive, you hugged him goodbye and headed home, ready to get a good rest

han yujin

you were coming home from the after school academy and didn't realize how dark it got outside

like it was pitch black outside and you could barely see anything ahead, it didn't help that you had a fear of darkness

so you turned your phone's flashlight on and began heading home

but after a few minutes you felt as if someone was walking behind you and began thinking of the worst

"who the fuck is that?" you whispered, stopping in your tracks

you somehow got yourself to point the light behind you to reveal... yujin?

yujin didn't go to the same academy as you so you were surprised to see your boyfriend there, he had a black hoodie on with some jeans

"what are you doing?" he chuckled

"oh i thought someone was following me, turns out it's just you."

"uh it's not just me, i'm your boyfriend."

"yeah yeah boyfriend." but you couldn't hide the fact that you were terrified to walk home

yujin sensed this and caressed your hair, "want me to walk home with you?"

you were so grateful that your boyfriend happened to be strolling around the area your academy was in

"yes, please, i'm so scared." you admitted. he held your hand and you two began walking together

"it's really not that dark, but i can understand why you might be scared." his voice didn't have a hint of fear in it, making you feel more safe around him

"thank you yujin." you hugged him

"let's head home hmm?"

#zb1 #zerobase1 #zerobaseone #zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #zb1 reactions #kim jiwoong #zhang hao #sung hanbin #seok matthew #kim taerae #ricky shen #kim gyuvin #park gunwook #han yujin

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lovemikage · 2 years ago

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— 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 ( 𝐚. 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐬 )

♡ — in which ajax needs help with his homework, and you're always a doting tutor.

♡ — wc: 748

♡ — a/n: pt. 2 maybe? i just wanted this finished i will not lie to you! but i love my cute boy <333 ty to @arachine for motivating me to finish this and @cottoncandybirdy my bestie beta i love u both so dearly

♡ — warnings: bit suggestive throughout but no explicit smut (yet), fem!reader, all characters are in college (~20 yrs old)

“No – Ajax, baby, darling, you need to carry the three or it won’t –”

“Ugh!” the beanie-clad boy has a pout on his face while he leans back until his chair is tipping off the ground, arms crossed, “I hate this. I’m not good at it, can’t we do somethin’ i’m good at?”

“And what would that be, hm?” You mimic his pose, though all Ajax can focus on is how the position pushes your tits up and how the stern look on your face is working for you way more than he thinks it should.

“I dunno, like –” He pauses, throwing his hands up in the air in half exasperation and half out of a need to stop looking at you (unfortunately, there’s no school subject he is good at, so it isn’t really helping), “Mythology? History? I’m good at those!”

“Yes, because that’s your ancestry –” You sigh, shaking your head a bit while you look down at him, “Plus, i’m literally your tutor, ‘jax, the whole point of this is to help you get better at what you struggle with –”

This time when Ajax looks up at you his frown is even deeper, brows pulled together, and for a moment you think he’s so cute you just want to kiss him silly.

Focus.

“I just have no motivation!” He huffs while he settles his head on crossed arms, looking up at you with all the sadness of a kicked puppy, “And i’m just – i’m bad at it –”

You pause for a moment as you look down at him, weighing your options. You do have an idea, one that would almost definitely work, but one that would also change the trajectory of your friendship forever.

But, again – you know it’ll work. You also know that you really like Ajax, as stupid as he is, and he really likes you, too – he’s never been too shy about showing it (plus, Xavier told you).

Ah, fuck it.

“Tell you what –” You lean over the table so you’re hovering over him a bit, tits pushed out in a way that’s making him stare intensely at your eyes in an effort not to look, “for every question you actually try on, i’ll give you a kiss wherever you want, mkay? You don’t even have to get it right, but you have to try.”

Ajax nearly chokes at that, coughing into his arm and suddenly shooting up with a nod, suddenly the portrait of a perfect student.

“Well?” You look down at him expectantly, head tilted with a soft, playful smile on your lips.

“Oh – oh, fuck, no, yeah, t-totally, um, let me just –” He splutters, quickly arranging the papers from his binder into a neat pile on his desk so he can begin working, suddenly feeling very, very motivated.

You can’t stop your giggles while you watch him work, now moving ten times as fast as he was before – he was even getting some of the math problems right.

He shows them off to you quickly, and you keep your promises for each one – he’s too hesitant to ask you to kiss him in any places he really wants, so he keeps it cute – asks for kisses on his nose, his cheeks, his forehead. Eventually he gets brave and asks for one on his lips and he feels dizzy when you pull back with a smirk.

From there it gets heated very quickly – somehow you find your way into his lap, arms looped around his shoulders and legs dangling on either side of him. He works with you there, every so often tapping your back so you can look at his work. Your kisses stray farther down – his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, even along his shoulders. You can’t help the way your hands wander, sliding underneath his hoodie and running your palms along lean muscle and smooth skin.

You feel something under you and you can’t help the way you smirk to yourself. At least you weren’t the only one getting excited. You kiss his lips again after the next problem, though this time it’s deeper, more desperate than before. You pull back breathing heavily, the little string of saliva that connects your lips making you gulp. Your eyes flit down to the papers, then, and you grin, your voice barely above a whisper when you speak, Ajax’s eyes big and doe-like looking back at you, “You’re almost done. Finish it all and I get to kiss you wherever I want.”

#ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus fluff #ajax petropolus smut #ajax smut #ajax x reader #ajax petropolus imagine #hoooo boy am i rusty #anyway here u go

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pixelated-mechanisms-chaos · 5 months ago

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Health update, reason why nothing has been posted, and a thing im working on on ko-fi while im not delirious/hj

----------------------------------------------------------

- Health -

Heyyyy im not deaaad- my doctor just found it a great idea to go, despite my partners advice and warning of "hey he'll feel miserable off them" to go "your blood pressure on these meds is too low. Stop taking them and see me in a week"

So now im sitting here. With fucking fever, meds-withdrawal symptoms, headache and aaaaall my symptoms from before are back.

Heavy dizzy spells. Heart reate going all over the place fastness wise. I barely have energy to even go to the kitchen and just- did you ever think a bush looked comfy to sleep in?? No?? I DID YESTERDAY.

Meaning- if i continue the game at this moment, you'll get a fever dream that barely works- so until i am a functional human again that can actually stand, im gonna be afk!

....most of my symptoms, do HEAVILY align with POTS....so that's... fun. Heart speed shouldn't be FAST when just laying, right? Or when getting up spike faster, right? Yea. All around fucked.

----------------------------------------------------------

- Ko-Fi -

In different news. To distract myself, when i don't happen, do be dreaming about cuddling bushes/silly, im working on adding ko-fi memberships! They're uh...in the works but dunno if anyone would wanna be a member? Here's the things you get for being an octokitten captain? Its still a WIP- including the price cause i have no gauge over how prices vs. Rewards do with memberships? I might make it 10 instead? I dunno. I did discover the shop tho so maybe i can play around with that?

Question is also, do you WANT memberships?

Hell if you wanna support me as a one time thing just for shit n giggles, heres my ko-fi link

[ Ko-fi ]

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go back to cursing at my doctor for saying i should go off my high blood pressure meds and not warning me that I'd feel like this. At all. I hate the dizzy. I HATE THE MAYBE CHRONIC ILLNESS. FUCK.

#the mechanisms #@pixelated mechanisms chaos #the mechanisms games #the mechs #game making #the mechanisms fandom #downtime #progress #shitpost #health update

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gazingstarsabove · 6 months ago

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slow dancing in the dark😏

·Headcanons for the madcom peeps on how they would do in slow dance! It's up to you if you'd interpret this as romantic or planotic!!

—•Hank would definitely just stare at you in the dance floor, just standing there awkwardly, until you put a hand on his shoulder, and you guided his hands to your waist. He only moves side to side and follows your lead, but when you go and move somewhere else it's guaranteed he'd step on your foot. A little bashful, he'd just be staring into your soul behind those red goggles of his, his grip on you a little light. When you try to spin, he'll let go and just stare at you, confusedly. Will only do it once and never again

—•Sanford would be alright, though he needs a little footwork. He doesn't know where to place his hands, and he's sort of worried he'll make you uncomfortable, but it's aight. Little smile on his face as you two dance to the song, saying things that embarasses him, usually making you laugh. He'd try to spin you, but it usually ends up with him having to let go of your hand lol. He's trying! But he's atleast decent. Will only do it if he's in the mood, or if you force him to lmfao

—•Deimos is the one to willingly invite you into the dance floor, but man, believe me you'll regret it. Nonetheless, it wasn't really slow dance, it was just him dragging you all across the dance floor. Hands everywhere, and he keeps stepping on your feet. You dance in a more zigzag form, and he spins you like a damn beyblade, making you slightly dizzy. But in the end, it usually ends in a slow pace. Will do it every damn time.

—•Doc would decline your invitation, but he'll usually dance with you when there's not much people in the room. He holds you by your waist, the other hand on your hip. He only dances with you side to side, he doesn't spin you, he a little too killjoy™ for that. Will say this is a waste of time, but still continues to dance with you. He actually very much enjoys dancing with you, if he weren't just so grumpy all the time. Will only do it when his crew is in the room, or if it's just you two.

—•Tricky dancing? WOWEE!! it's more likely than you think. He doesn't know what slow dancing is, so he just sways your whole body side to side, aggressively, holding you by your underarms. He also does that thing where he lifts you up, and starts spinning you around. May or may not take over the dj to switch up the mood to something more exciting. Will always dance with you, boogy style or something "slow"

—•Jeb is very bashful, but he usually brushes it off as "I'm too much of an old man to do this type of shi", or anything to do with his age. But he will do it when you're alone, radio playing and it's only you two in the room. He's actually really sweet, removing his sunglasses to look at you properly, halo above his head serving as a little warm spotlight. His movements precise, and calculated, and doesn't mind spinning you a few times. Will only do it if you two are close, or if he thinks fondly of you.

—•Sheriff is the one to invite you, and he usually uses an excuse like "get your feet workin'", or "don't just stand there!". He's actually real good in slow dance, his hand on your waist, the other holding your hand. He would whisper sweet nothings to you, being really flirty as he dances you, even if it's platonic. He'll spin you, and does that thing where he lowers your upper body and holds you by the back, his other hand holding yours, as he bites on a rose. Dunno where he got that, romance shit!! Will do it everytime

—•Auditor urhmm. I mean gurly he'll dance with you, but urhm just make sure to wear gloves if you plan to hold his hands. He'll get all whiny about it, “And what serves the purpose of participating in this dance?”, like he be questioning everything. But he's actually really good than he lets on. He'll spin you, only once though, bc he knows how fast grunts can get motion sickness. He'll only do it if you're alone or if his agents set it up.

—•Phobos will get all giddy if you invite him, or if you planned the dance yourself. He goes on boasting about it, his ego and pride skyrocketing out of the damn tower. He doesn't mind dancing in public or private, spending time with you is enough. He'll probably get you those elevated platforms, so you two can properly face one another. He'll get you two spotlights, demanding his agents to make the mood a lot more intimate and sweet. Get ready because your dance is gonna have a lot more spinning, he's gonna make snarky remarks if you get dizzy, but he'll stop if you ask him to. Will always do it with you

#madcom #madness combat #madness combat deimos #madness combat hank #madness combat sanford #madness combat doc #madness combat 2bdamned #madness combat auditor #madness combat jebus #madness combat phobos #madness combat tricky #madness combat sheriff #jebediah christoff #tricky the clown #director phobos #madness combat jebediah christoff

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undertheopensky · 1 year ago

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We Are But Children 3

Whumptober Day 21: Restraints

Characters: Time, Legend, lil bit of Hyrule and Warriors

Trigger warnings: Violence to a child, mild body horror, minor character death, don’t worry it’s no one you care about, I was going to say it’s not graphic but SOMEONE had other ideas

Read on Ao3!

Late to the party? Read Part 1 and Part 2!

-----

Blinking, the newly-babyfied Time glances around. “Well this is inconvenient.”

Everyone’s tense, almost too afraid to breathe. Four had panicked and cried; Legend had panicked and grabbed a weapon. No one wants to know what Time will do - or accidentally scare him into doing it.

It’s Wars who approaches him. Calm, and smiling, and visibly praying he’ll be recognised. “Hey, bud. Nothing fazes you, huh?”

“Why would it? I’m used to portals and weird wizzrobes at this point.” Baby!Time squints at his own hands. “I admit it’s been a while, though.”

“Okay,” says Warriors. “What’s the last thing you remember, Mask?”

Baby-fine hairs glimmer in the firelight as the child raises one eyebrow. “Been a long time since you’ve called me that, Wars.”

Warriors’ face screws up, losing the steady gentleness that was making Legend’s hair stand on end. “What?”

“I’m fine, Wars, I didn’t lose anything. Weird wizzrobe, not the first time, I’m going to be very short for the next three days.” Adult!Time’s amusement at their bafflement looks creepy as fuck on Baby!Time’s face.

“Wait,” Legend demands, “why the hell does he get to retain his memories while I spent three days embarrassing myself?”

“I am the Hero of Time, you know,” says Baby!Time, with unbearable smugness for such a tiny child.

Legend makes an outraged noise. “Excuse you, I have definitely fucked around enough with the Harp of Ages to –”

Exactly what he was going to say is drowned out by Warriors squawking “LANGUAGE!” and clapping his hands over Baby!Time’s ears.

“He is thirty –”

“Ah-t-t-t! I don’t care! He is like seven and you will watch your language!”

Legend fumes silently but has to drop the argument.

Baby!Time wrestles Warriors’ hands away from his head. “I dunno why you bother, I already learned all the good curses from the soldiers.”

“I’m trying not to make that problem any worse, thank you.” Still, Warriors lets him go. “Now - you sure you’re okay? You’re not sore, or dizzy? You still remember everyone?”

“It’s strange.” Time spreads his arms like a bird. “I still have all my adult memories, and sensations, but they’re less… relevant, somehow. Not as close to the surface.” He takes a few steps, without so much as a wobble. “I don’t feel off balance, or anything.”

“That’s interesting, actually,” says Hyrule, wide-eyed. “When people go through growth spurts they’re often really clumsy until they get used to their new height or reach – I would have thought it would happen in reverse, too.”

Baby!Time nods thoughtfully. “It’s not, though. Maybe all the adult stuff is being held down by the magic too?”

“You’re taking this pretty well,” Sky observes.

Baby!Time shrugs. “I did say I’m used to it.”

“I’m not,” says Warriors. He keeps rubbing at his eyes like they’re bothering him. “My brain is not coping with Baby!Time.”

“You could just go back to calling me Mask.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I mean, if it makes you feel better,” Baby!Time says. “A nickname’s a nickname. You all call me ‘old man’ half the time, anyway.”

“Ohhhh, that’s so weird,” Twilight mutters, looking vaguely horrified.

Legend snorts. “All in favour of calling him ‘Mask’ for the next three days?”

“Aye,” comes the chorus.

“Well if that’s settled, can we maybe make a plan on what to do next?” asks Wild. “Because I definitely saw some of the moblins making a run for it while we were distracted with the wizzrobe.”

“Can’t leave those running around,” Wars agrees with a sigh. “Twi, see if you can fetch Wolfie, we’ll need him for tracking - wait, fuck. Mask. Twilight can you introduce Mask to Wolfie while you’re at it? I know he’s great but he’s a wild animal and I do not want any mistakes.”

“Sure thing,” says Twilight, with an impressive lack of inflection. “C’mon, kiddo.”

Baby!Time - Mask - shrugs, and runs after him.

They don’t catch up with the monsters that day, despite Wolfie’s best efforts, and make camp deep in the woods when they lose the light. Wolfie could have kept leading them - he’s not following visible sign, after all - but no one wants to wander blindly into an ambush.

In the morning, Legend rouses to the not-unfamiliar dulcet tones of Warriors cursing. “Why are you allowed to swear and I’m not?” he says.

Warriors makes a strangled noise of surprise. Legend grins, still without opening his eyes. “Because until three seconds ago I thought I was the only one awake!” he hisses. “Goddess above, Ledge!”

“Not my fault you have shitty situational awareness,” says Legend, and sits up. “What’re you swearing at?”

Warriors gestures angrily with the flopping leather in his hand. “My boots don’t fit!”

“They can’t possibly have shrunk overnight, and I doubt your feet have swelled that much, they’re not your head.” Still, Legend leans over to take a look. They… definitely look too small. And too short, actually. Wars has fully fitted calf-length boots with buckles for plates to be strapped on; these would barely cover his ankles even if they were the right size. What the hell?

While they puzzle over this the rest of the camp has started to wake up. Twilight - always up with the sun - is gently shaking Wild, while the champion mumbles a constant litany of ‘five more minutes’. Sky is yawning and stretching. Hyrule, last on watch, is packing away all his gear and making sure Sky doesn’t fall asleep again.

“What are you guys doing?”

They both look up. Wind’s standing over them, trying to look stern and managing something closer to ‘delightedly baffled’. “Where’d you get those shoes, Wars? Why? They’re never gonna fit you! Do you have a kid we don’t know about?”

“What?! No!” Warriors makes a garbled noise, caught between embarrassment and indignance. “Why would you even -? No, they’re not mine! I don’t even know where they came from!”

Wind huffs. “Then whose are they?”

“I suspect they’re mine,” says Four, stumping over in boots that are clearly about six sizes too large.

“How the fuck did that happen?” says Wars. They’d been sleeping on opposite sides of camp, for Nayru’s sake. There’s no way their boots could have gotten mixed up in the dark.

“I don’t know and I don’t care, just gimme my shoes.” Four kicks off Wars’s boots and grabs his own, sitting down to put them on properly and adding, “You better not have split any of the stitching with your massive clodhoppers.”

“I stopped trying when I couldn’t even get my toes in!”

The bickering would probably have gone on a lot longer if Hyrule hadn’t started making anxious noises about getting a move on. It’s not safe to stay in one place for too long in this area, he tells them. And he is the expert, so they get a move on. Wild hands out rice balls. It’s not the first time they’ve had breakfast on the go.

It sends a bit of a jolt down Legend’s spine, every time he glances up the line of heroes and doesn’t see Time’s broad frame near the front. It’s disconcerting.

Mask doesn’t have the same movement patterns, either. Besides the obvious, not being Time, he also doesn’t lead the pack. He follows at Warriors’ heels, or sticks close behind Twilight, or walks so near to Hyrule it’s a miracle he doesn’t get stepped on.

Then Sky turns around to ask Wind a question, spots Mask, and nearly trips over himself with a shriek.

The whole party stumbles to a halt.

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew I was there!” Mask says, while Sky frantically tries to apologise for almost stepping on him. “I’ll be more careful, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, it keeps happening.

Legend wonders about that. Mask had said his adult memories were less relevant, somehow. Does he feel more vulnerable, as a child? Like he needs to be closer to the adults to be safe?

Whatever the case, it’s fucking annoying. Four startles badly whenever Mask’s shadow falls on him – towered over by even the literal child. Warriors jumps about a foot in the air when the wind briefly tangles his scarf around Mask and he feels it tug. Wind offers to give him a piggyback ride, since that’s clearly what he wants if he’s standing so close, which lasts a hilarious but short five minutes before Wind admits defeat. Mask is small, but there’s a lot of muscle under his tunic.

Finally, after Wild does an awkward somersault to keep from landing on the boy, Twilight comes up and plops him on Epona instead. Mask seems happy enough with this arrangement. Legend just breathes a sigh of relief that he doesn’t have to worry about the kid stepping on his shoes anymore.

They make good enough time that by evening, they don’t need Wolfie dropping in and out to keep them on the right track; the trail left by the fleeing monsters is enough for any Hylian eye to follow. At this point, though, they’re even more suspicious of an ambush.

“Everyone okay with stopping for the night?” Warriors calls, as the sky fades to duller shades of orange.

“I’m hardly going to complain,” Sky says, slumping almost on the spot. He’s nearly grey under the flush of exertion. Their pace has been a little much for him, though he hasn’t said a word of complaint. Legend marks that, and hopes they catch up tomorrow.

Wind also collapses more or less where he stands, and starts pulling his boots off. “I hate walking,” he complains, not for the first time. Unlike Sky, he will gleefully inform the world at large of every small discomfort. “Give me a boat any day. Ugh! I have blisters!”

“Were you wearing socks?”

“No! They’re itchy!”

“For the love of Nayru, sailor…”

While Wars patches him up and scolds him over foot care, the rest of them set up camp. “No fire tonight,” Wild tells them, “smoke’s too much of a risk.”

Legend makes a face - cold dinner tonight - but no one argues. It’s at least not cold cold out here. Their bedrolls will be warm enough without the need for a fire to keep from freezing to death.

As Twilight hauls his bedroll down from Epona, he staggers a bit under its weight. And it’s bulky, for sure, but not heavy, not to someone who slings goats around for a living. He must be tired from running back and forth all day long. Legend keeps an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t collapse or something, but Twilight’s just frowning as he lays out the thick padding, struggling with it more than usual. Then, he flips open the top layer.

His bedroll is full of rocks.

Twilight stares. So does everyone else. “What the hell?”

It’s not easy to read Adult!Time - he nearly always looks placidly amused.

Mask’s poker face isn’t nearly as good. Despite having all Time’s control and experience, the softness of his face gives him away. His eyes crinkle at the corners and his lips go tight trying not to smile.

Twilight spots it immediately. His eyes narrow. As he turns to flee, Mask starts laughing, which both gives him away and makes escaping impossible. Twilight catches him with ease.

“You little gremlin!” Twilight shouts over Mask’s laughter. He shakes him, gently, where he’s dangling him upside down by his ankles.

Mask seems unconcerned by this. He’s still laughing, gleeful and unrepentant in the face of Twilight’s brotherly wrath. “Your face! That was the best, I’m so glad I didn’t do it to Wars he’s so boring about people messing with his bed -”

“What gets me to sleep faster, freaking out about it or fixing the problem?” says Warriors, without looking up.

“See?” Mask complains, giggling as Twilight shakes him again.

“You little gremlin,” Twilight repeats. “I can’t believe you. Come on, then, you’re helping me get all the rocks out.” He flips Mask the right way up and scrubs a rough but friendly hand through his hair.

“‘Kay,” says Mask cheerfully.

It’s not a difficult task - all they really need to do is upend the bedroll and shake it out. Mask hadn’t used any stones smaller than a thumbnail so there was no worry about things getting caught in the corners, and they were all too smooth to damage the fabric. The bedroll is clean and ready to go in less than five minutes. Twilight sighs in relief. “Alright, menace, I’ll let you off the hook - but don’t do it again, y’hear?”

Mask blows a raspberry at him. “It’s no fun doing the same thing twice!”

Then he runs off, jumping on an unsuspecting Wind with a war cry.

Ignoring the wrestling match that breaks out, Twilight asks, “Was he always such a hellion?”

“I think he was actually worse,” says Wars.

-----

This time Legend comes to with a massive fucking headache. Also, the floor is moving, which he does not appreciate at all. It’s making his stomach feel so much worse. He groans in protest, and hears an answering groan from nearby. Fuck, that means he needs to wake up more and be functional.

What had happened? The expected ambush hadn’t been challenging. The moblins were black-blooded, yes, and smart enough to set up shop in the least defensible spot in the region so the Chain had no cover when they attacked, and wound up split off into smaller groups. But between his ice rod and Hyrule’s Thunder spell they’d cleared out the moblins, and the out-of-time lizalfos that showed up to investigate, and he, Hyrule, and Mask had been headed for the last place they’d seen the others when -

Nothing.

So something probably happened in that nothing.

Goddess, his head hurts.

Thinking about it isn’t getting him anywhere, so Legend braces himself to crack open his eyes.

Fortunately, it’s dark, so his head doesn’t do more than thump briefly about the new stimulus before settling down to sulk. Hyrule is the first thing his eyes catch on.

Even in the dark it looks bad. He’s an awkward tangle of limbs in unconsciousness, blood all through his hair and tunic torn over an untreated wound, stirring vaguely when Legend calls his name. Through the gloom, Legend can tell his eyes aren’t quite in focus. Damn. “C’mon, Rulie,” he coaxes, “talk to me.”

Hyrule groans again. “M’head…”

Yeah, that’s fair. Legend looks again at the blood, reminds himself that Hyrule’s at least mostly conscious, and tries to shake off the nausea. Though maybe that’s from the rocking floor. Hopefully Mask at least had gotten away -

“What hit me?” Mask grumbles from behind him, and there goes that hope.

“Fuck this shit,” Legend says, or slurs, rather, and fuck, Rulie’s not the only one with a concussion. No wonder his head is killing him. He tries to roll over - and realises his hands are trapped behind his back, hard-cold-biting-edges pinning his wrists together. His blood goes to ice.

The darkness – the moving floor – the restraints –

It all adds up to captured.

Hyrule’s in the middle of the same realisation – foggy eyes going wide with panic. He thrashes, fighting whatever has his arms pinned, booted feet thumping against the wooden wall.

It’s instinct to lunge forward. Legend discovers too late that his manacles are actually hooked to something, brought up short by the yank in his shoulders. He curses instead, and tries to calm him with words alone. “Easy, easy Rulie, it’ll be okay, we’ll get out of this -”

Hyrule kicks the wall again.

“Please Rulie you’ll hurt yourself -”

The floor jolts to a stop.

Hyrule gasps. Legend’s stomach lurches – partly from the rolling motion ceasing, partly from anxiety at whatever was about to happen. The manacles dig in painfully as he leans back on his arms to roll into a sit. (And ignores the way his vision goes white, then black, then slow, spotty grey, as the pain crests and fades back.)

Footsteps, muffled; crunching on gravel, coming around to the door of the carriage. There’s a long moment of rattling metal. Keys in a lock. Then the door swings wide.

Legend doesn’t let the blinding, nauseating light stop him from barking, “What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?”

Shackled to a wall, concussed and listing, he doesn’t make for a very threatening picture. He only gets laughter in response.

“Whad’you even want with us?” he demands, all too aware of the two behind him. Just as trapped, just as helpless. He’s the oldest, here, the veteran hero; it’s up to him to find a way out.

The bandit grins at him, silhouetted in the doorway.

“Knew we’d get a good haul outta you, didn’t we? At first we was just gonna take your magic stuff. One good quality fire rod can go for thousands to the right buyer. Then we saw ya throwin’ lightnin’ around, an’ realised - just how much more would we get, for real live magical creatures? Ones pretendin’ t’be Hylian, walkin’ among civilised folks? We ain’t dealt in live cargo in a while, but we still got the stuff for it.”

Legend’s only half-listening. As he adjusts to the glare outside he’s scanning and assessing, and does not like what he sees.

A least eight people visible, all in the same sort of hard wearing, mismatched clothing. More surrounding the cart; he can hear muttering and laughter from out of view. Everyone’s hard-eyed and alert, and everyone’s armed. Not with the usual rusty shit bandits tend to scrounge up, either. There’s quality steel on some of those backs. Not good.

“You should let Mask go, then,” Legend argues. “He’s just a kid - he’s got no talent for magic.”

The bandit snorts. “Anyone who can keep up with things like you two’ll be worth somethin’. And those marks? If ‘e ain’t fae-touched, then I’m a chuchu.

“We’ve got a long ways to go yet, so just sit back an’ enjoy the ride. An’ quit kickin’ the walls – ain’t no one out here to hear you, an’ I don’t want you damagin’ the merchandise.”

With one last black grin, the door to the carriage slams closed.

“Well that sounds like bullshit.” Mask sits up, and Legend sees that he’d been bound in rope rather than iron. He hopes, vaguely, that that means these fuckers don’t usually capture children-sized people, and so had to improvise. Whatever the case, it meant a flexible, squirmy child was able to wriggle free, before the carriage even lurches back into motion. “Obviously we’re not gonna stick around here, so what’s the plan?”

“I want my shit back,” says Legend, doing his best not to slur the words. “An’ I’d rather not go through the black market for it.”

“We probably shouldn’t leave these guys to steal things and sell people, either.” Mask makes a face. “No offence, though, you two look like shit. You’re in no condition for a fight.”

Legend growls, but can’t really argue. His headache has not been improved by the rising stress of the situation. If he tried to stand up right now, he’d probably fall, and maybe pass out into the bargain. Hyrule has blood running down his face from the blow that knocked him out, and Legend suspects his successor feels even worse than he does right now. The kid’s barely even following the conversation. “So, what? Think you can jump out of here and find the others in time? Don’t even know where we are.”

“Nah, I’ve got a better idea.” Mask frowns, then, chewing his lip in a way that Warriors would definitely have scolded him for, before saying, “Don’t freak out, okay? Wars always does, but it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“That is the most concerning thing you could possibly have said,” says Legend, but no one can reach to stop him as he shoves a hand down his own tunic to reveal –

A carved wooden mask.

That’s hardly surprising - Adult!Time has quite the collection, after all. Though why Baby!Time had opted to stash one in his tunic is anyone’s guess. It’s also not one Legend’s seen before. Shaggy white hair, the angles of a Hylian face marked with bright colour, and dark voids where the eyes should be.

A chill runs over him. “Mask - what is that thing?”

Mask hesitates. “Don’t freak out,” he repeats, lifting the wood to his face.

“Mask stop!”

Too late. Mask curls in on himself and keens, high and strangled. There’s a crunching sound like bones underfoot, the squelch of raw meat tearing.

Legend’s shouting. Hyrule’s struggling against the shackles to come and help. But they can’t reach him. Mask is alone, as the sickening noises stop, and his stifled cries go quiet.

“Mask?” Legend calls, suddenly and terribly afraid. “Time?”

Slowly, he turns, and Legend tries not to be visibly alarmed. He’s – too tall to be Mask, and too short to be Adult!Time; he looks Legend’s age, despite the shock white hair. But it’s not that, or the hair, or even the newly-mirrored markings on his face that make his stomach turn. It’s the eyes – pure white, and strangely reflective, like polished porcelain.

They’re empty.

The – being – Legend’s not confident calling them ‘Time’ anymore – glances around the carriage as if taking it in. Their head tilts. Considering. Then, they put one hand over their shoulder to grasp at the air like they’re grasping for a sword. And suddenly there is a sword, nearly as long as he is tall, with two blades intertwined in a strange spiral pattern.

Legend breaks out in a cold sweat.

Fortunately, the being’s not even looking at him. All the intensity of their focus is on the door, contemplating it like a complex dungeon puzzle. Legend’s almost too afraid to breathe, lest it draw the looming mountain of their attention.

Their other hand goes up to the hilt, and they draw.

Legend can’t help it - he scrabbles back, feet slipping on the cool wood. The being doesn’t so much as glance his way. They lift the blade, studying its smooth curves, with no sign of the effort it should take to lift its bulk, and their head tilts again.

Then the sword flashes, and wood explodes outward.

Bandits scream in surprise. Legend can’t see; between the blinding light and the splintered remains of the door his view’s restricted to a sliver, but the being is no longer in the carriage with them and there’s all the sounds of a fight outside. He curses and struggles with his manacles again. Legend hates feeling useless, but here and now, all he can do is listen to the screech of metal on metal, the shouts and curses of the gang, and strange, wet-sounding thumps as heavy things hit the ground and don’t get back up.

Something strikes the cart with enough force to set it rocking. It’s followed by the distinctive sound of a blade thrust into flesh, a boot sucking free of deep mud. Hyrule jolts at the noise, and squints across the wagon at Legend to check him for injury. Legend would laugh if he wasn’t wound so tight.

Eventually, things go quiet, except for the nervous stomping of the carthorse. Legend’s heart is thundering in his ears. He feels like he was the one fighting, the way his breath comes in short, trembling huffs. And with the shouting gone there’s no way to tell what’s happening -

There’s a noise of irritation. Then there’s a crunch, and what’s left of the door wrenches free, letting sunlight stream in unimpeded. Legend squints, but doesn’t turn away. (Hyrule does, burying his face in the floor. Kid must have one hell of a headache.)

The being with Time’s face appears. They are, not unexpectedly, doused in blood. More unexpectedly, the flat expression has relaxed into something not quite like a smile.

It is not reassuring.

The being hauls themselves up into the wagon. Hyrule grunts at the vibration of their boots hitting the floor - now that Legend’s looking, they’re wearing half armour, plates over the chest and legs and heavy armoured boots, completely unlike the child’s tunic Mask had changed into.

“Time?” he tests, deliberately rocking up onto his knees.

As planned, the being’s eyes shift from Hyrule to his movement. “I am not the Hero of Time.” Their head tilts, identical to the way they’d looked at the door, seconds before it turned to matchsticks. Somehow, though, Legend’s not afraid. The sense of constrained energy that had set his teeth on edge just… isn’t there, anymore. “You are bound. I will release you.”

Using the massive sword as a cutting tool seems like overkill, but it gets the job done. There’s a shriek and a crack, and some of the pressure on Legend’s hands releases. When he pulls them around, the band of metal holding the manacles together is cut through.

“If you’re not Time, or - Mask, then - where is he? He better be okay.” The last part comes out forlorn instead of aggressive, which pisses him off.

“The Hero of Time is asleep, young one,” the being tells him. Hyrule’s restraints get the same treatment, letting the dazed hero sit up properly without the chains caught up around their mooring pole. “He will not wake until my task is done.”

“And what is your task, exactly?” Legend moves to check on Hyrule - he’s been way too quiet, even after riding out a panic attack.

“To fight until the fighting is done. That is always my task: to fight the battles the Hero of Time cannot win.”

“Wait, so if he’s had you in reserve this whole time, why hasn’t he ever used you before now?”

The thing wearing Time’s face smiles, slow and cruel.

“He knows better than to call on me for such paltry matters. The cost would be far too high.”

Legend’s heart freezes. “Cost?”

“I am a god of war. And war always takes its price. Where it gets it is of no concern.”

“What kind of cost? If you’ve hurt him -”

“The Hero of Time has always been very aware of the price some things demand. For that reason alone, he would have been one of my favoured.” The being sighs, still smiling that terrifying smile. “But… my work is done, and the penance is paid. Farewell for now, heroes.” They lift one hand to their familiar-alien face.

The change back is quicker, somehow. A rush of air and magic power draining away, and suddenly it’s Mask’s hands holding the carved wooden face, smiling up at Legend. He looks tired, but not wrecked, as Legend had feared when he’d heard the enchantment boiling to life through his bones. “So, was he nice to you? He better have been. I yelled at him the last time he scared Wars.”

“I don’t think ‘nice’ is the right word to use,” says Legend, still a little stunned.

Mask groans. “Did he at least solve our bandit problem?” He hops back out of the wagon to check. Legend, after taking a moment to collect the still-unsteady Hyrule, follows.

Outside is sheer carnage. It’s less ‘bodies’ than ‘pieces’, and Legend has to look away and swallow hard. He’s not used to this kind of aftermath - doesn’t usually fight people, just manifestations of hatred that can’t hold corporeal form once killed.

There’s so much blood.

Mask ignores it with an ease that Legend’s going to find upsetting later. He leads them around to the front of the cart, where the carnage is less; the bandits had all rushed to the main source of the fight, not hung around waiting for it to come to them. The bay mare hooked up to the wagon snorts at them, eyes and nostrils wide.

“He left the horse alive,” Legend says blankly. He’d heard it, even after the sounds of battle faded, but somehow hadn’t quite conceptualised it.

“Well sure. It’s not her fault she was owned by assholes.” Mask steadies the mare with a few gentle words and a firm hand on the bridle. “Besides - she can carry us a lot further and a lot faster than we can go on foot. Now c’mon, help me search this thing for our bags, ‘cause if they dumped them somewhere it’s gonna make our lives so much harder.”

Legend does in fact find their packs, in a poorly-hidden compartment under the driver’s bench. Which is great, because now he doesn’t have to go hunting his gear down. It’s even better because there’s still half a red potion in here somewhere with Hyrule’s name on it.

Hyrule’s eyes clear as the potion does its work, though there’s still a visible knot above his ear. “Legend, what - you okay?”

“He’s fine, I’m fine, we’re all fine except the bad guys,” Mask interrupts. “More importantly: how are we gonna get back to the others?”

“I say we head back the way we came and make a decision when there’s a split in the road,” says Legend. He really just wants to be done with this day. Sleep sounds fantastic right now, so it’s a pity he’s got long hours piecing together the bandits’ route ahead of him. He hates backtracking. Backtracking on other people’s bullshit is even worse.

The horse doesn’t care about backtracking; the horse is all too eager to leave the blood-soaked stretch of road behind them, once they get her turned around. In hindsight, Legend’s really glad she didn’t take off when people started dying loudly and messily nearby. He wouldn’t have blamed her, but he also doesn’t fancy being chained up in the back of a runaway cart.

Miracle of miracles, they’ve been on the road less than half an hour when they start seeing flashes of colour through the trees. Hyrule squints. “Is that Four?”

“Aaand Wolfie,” says Mask with a sigh, as frantic barking becomes audible.

“Thank Nayru, Din and Farore,” says Four, flinging himself off Wolfie when the canine skids to a halt. “We were so worried, are you all alright, are those manacles - fuck, Ledge, you’re bleeding -”

“What, still?” says Legend blankly, touching fingers to scalp.

Wolfie glances up from where he’d been sniffing noses with the carthorse and gives a disapproving ‘boof’.

“Shut up, there was more important shit to deal with,” Legend tells him.

Four makes short work of the manacles - someday Legend’s going to ask just how he manages to keep a mini-forge on his person at all times - and he’s just pulling off the last one when the rest of the group comes jogging up.

“Goddesses, Mask, what happened?!” Wild exclaims. “You’ve got -” he gestures to his face - “all over!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot he does that when I’m little.” Mask runs an absent-minded finger over one blood-marked cheek. “The markings are protective. In places where they’re known, bad guys won’t risk touching me. Even Ghirahim thought twice, and he was a grade-A creeper. Sorry, Sky.”

“Why are you apologising, you’re right,” Sky protests. “Also what’s this about you dealing with Ghirahim, oh my god-”

Honestly, Legend hadn’t even noticed that when the being faded away to leave Mask in their place, the facial markings had stayed, instead of the half-version he was used to seeing on Time. He touches his head again with a frown.

“Legend needs a potion!” Hyrule calls.

“Hyrule needs another one!” Legend shoots back.

Warriors rolls his eyes and hands them both a bottle. “Things must have been pretty dire if he had to use the Fierce Deity, and to be honest you both look like hell.”

“Fuck you too,” Legend grumbles. In truth, the potion is working wonders on the stabbing pain behind his eyes. He hadn’t even realised how sore his neck and back were until it all starts to fade, leaving him wrung-out and tired. It’s almost worth the horrible bitter taste, not at all hidden by the wildberries Wild had tried adding.

While they were getting medic-ed the conversation had gone on without them, which means Legend is treated to the hilarious and context-free picture of ten-year-old Mask being toted around on Sky’s hip like a four-year-old. Mask is clearly resigned to this, if not exactly pleased.

He’s even less pleased when Warriors starts questioning him. “So what’s this I hear about letting Fierce Deity out to play without a minder?”

“Oh come on, he’s fine!”

Legend thinks back to waiting chained up in near-darkness, wet gurgles and the choked cries of the dying outside with no way to know if they would be next, and has to hold back a shudder.

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Inspired by this amazing piece of art!

#whumptober 2023 #linked universe #lu time #lu mask #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu warriors #just a bit #skies writes #as usual not supposed to get this long #i stg NO ONE wanted to shut up #this took FOREVER.#i am not entirely happy with this but i also very much am sick of looking at it #day 22 my beloved here we come!

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