#i might just be makin my own shit at this point so take everything with a whole glass of salt. but it made sense to me
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randomwriteronline · 7 months ago
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uhrgh. ugrhhhhhhh Velika thoughts. i hate taht guy
i. do not think that Velika would be bent on world domination i think he would be bent on Cleaning Up. Making Everything Nice And Tidy. his fun experiment was a success and its done and now it time to get aaaall the lego pieces and put em right back in a box. except the box is, of course, an incinerator. he has the blueprints and notes and everything anyways he can just recreate the whole thing if he wants so its not like anybodys losing anything anyways (except a whole universe worth of lives that he fuckin gave sapience to but oh well). hes not going after Artakha and Karzhani and Tren Krom and Miserix and the mad Great Being and Tuyet bc he doesnt want competition, hes going after them bc their purpose is done and theyre either ripe for the trash compactor or just hazardous in general. and yknow yeah maybe his hundred millenia of partial isolation and mind fuckery and shit surgery and horrible island living have jumbled his brain so much that he thinks everything is an experiment and nobody is truly sapient except himself and so he is the rightful ruler of all these brainless beasts with no thoughts of their own, but hes not conquering anything. hes cleaning his desk.
and maybe Mata Nui and Teridax were "brothers" because they were his "children". his "heirs". one a supernatural divine researcher on a mindnumbingly lonely quest and the other one of a group of scientists capable of godly things. Velika's dismissal of the Matoran Universe translating in Mata Nui's apathetic approach to his own body, but their love for researching and discovering allowed him to develop an honest appreciation for "lesser" forms of life whereas his father saw it as a reason to care even less. Velika's superiority above everything translating in Teridax's egomania and desire for conquest, but where his cruelty is purposeful and calculated and very aware of itself because he loves it his father's is careless and serene and almost distracted, a byproduct of his skewed worldview that he doesnt bother to try to fix because why even should he.
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autisticempathydaemon · 3 months ago
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I wasn't sure if this is where I answer for the redacted match up but I hope it is!^^
feel free to take your time and I hope you enjoy reading this stuff...^^
What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?: you've seen the butcher by deftones because I really love deftones as a whole and I really love the intro and I don't know why but the song really reminds me of the Shaw pack.
Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?: Actually no because I have close to zero patience and I just never really liked them.
Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend. : I didn't have any.
What is your go-to way to fall asleep?: my watch later tab on YouTube. An hour of mincraft music followed by every redacted sleep aid.
If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?): I changed my name to toby because it fits the personality I like other people to see me as and the good parts of me. And a lot of people who inspire me are named toby in some form.
What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?: honestly it changes quite frequently but it usually rotates between the D.A.M.N. crew (Gavin and lasko mostly), Sam, and Porter.
What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.): Elliot and Aaron because Elliots just kind of boring to me and Aaron is just David without the fuzzy.
Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.: stranger things but only season 3
Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?: ollie or Elliot
Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.): sentimental stuff like how I met someone or how I've changed over the last few years
Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.: Arizona tea (fruit punch one cuz I'm a fruit cake), Dr. Pepper, or mountain dew
Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.: redacted wise: Gavin bc he was the first playlist I ever fully watched and I love my Bae
Music wise: my everything playlist called stuffs that I made 4 years ago.
What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?: the crave series by Tracy Wolff. It's very similar to a lot of redacted and its vampire shit.
And whatever else you think tells me about who you are!: I love deftones and Korn. Garfield4life. Lasko is Bae. I found Redacted through the guy confession audio the day it came out. I used to think Damien and lasko were gonna get together because I saw the Damien and Huxley confession cover and had a dream where it was lasko and convinced myself it was real untill I got to that point in the D.A.M.N crew playlist. :]
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Hmm, this one was difficult for me. Though you gave me information, I found it hard to glean who you are with that information /nm With that in mind, I think Asher is perfect for you!
I get the vibe that you might not be the type to volunteer a lot when talking about yourself? Asher would be a good match for you in that he’d either be really skilled at easing that info out of you naturally, given his personable and emotionally intelligent nature, or not feeling the need to push or prod, learning about you at your own pace. I also like that you describe yourself as having little patience as that’s how I think of Asher too- at least, until it counts. It’s good for a pair to have similar temperaments, you know?
One of my favorite things about your life with Asher is how much he’d indulge your love of Garfield. Asher Talbot is that boyfriend who goes scours eBay for the things you like no matter what that may be, no matter the cost; he is hounding those auctions like- well, like a wolf. He’s the same way with concert tickets- you know he’s making sure you get the best seats for the next Deftones show, even if he has to save for months. It’s not even his type of music necessarily, as a canon FOB stan, but he listens to their discography for a whole month before the concert to get hyped with you. He’s just like that~
Song:
Maybe we could be/ Sweet eternity/ Are you the one?/ Are you the one?/ Dreaming, I'm sleep/ Are you the one?/ Pray my soul to keep/ Comfort seems unreal/ The opposite of how I feel/ Before I come undone/ Are you the one?
This song came up when I started a Spotify Radio for “You’ve Seen the Butcher”, and I think it suits y’all! One, I always make sure to pick a love song cause matchmaking and romance. Two, it’s got a bounciness to it! It’s fun to listen to; I can easily imagine Asher bopping around at midnight, hopped up on RedBull, while he fixes y’all a snack.
Runner-up:
Vincent is your main runner-up because I think he’d have such a fun time goofin on you about your guilty pleasure books. He’s a vampire; that’s just his right, you know? Milo is your other runner-up because I am imagining Aggro feuding with the little Garfield effigies around your house, and it’s a delightful, silly image.
Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌
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resurrection-of-soul · 1 year ago
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Flashback | BIOHAZARD 1
Writer: Akira (日日日)
Characters: Rei, Kaoru, Koga, Adonis
Rei: I see no merit to behaving mulishly. After all this time, no matter what manner of disgraceful self I expose to you, I am certain none of you will hate me…♪ Kaoru: Ahaha. I seriously hate that kind of arrogant behavior~! And like, the fact it’s totally true makes it even more annoying ♪
[ For the best viewing experience, please read directly on my blog! ♪ ]
Time: February, During the First Year of ES's Establishment
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Location: ES Building, Rhythm Link Office
Rei: We find ourselves in circumstances most dire. Of late, many a fan hath lost interest in we UNDEAD. Though this hath felt to be the trend for quite a while, the numbers now render it an undeniable fact. The dwindling attendance at live concerts, waning CD sales, merchandise transactions and sundry other metrics serve as proof.
Kaoru: Huh, no way? That's surprising~ ...Personally, I feel like we've got way more fans screaming in excitement at our autograph sessions these days compared to back when we were still at Yumenosaki. Rather than losing fans, hasn't our fanbase just, like, changed? I mean, ever since we started working at ES, we've been participating in more child-friendly stuff like variety shows, yeah? Kids don't have a ton of pocket money, so it's hard for them to buy things like CDs or concert tickets... That just makes it seem like our popularity's going down when looking at sales data, right?
Koga: Hmph, you seem like a rich brat with more money than sense, but you've got a pretty good understandin' of the average person's budget.
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Kaoru: I've been through more hardship than you might think, y'know. My parent's¹ pretty strict.
Adonis: Haha. We have been in the industry so long that we've grown desensitized to it, but concert tickets would be pretty expensive for a normal child. On top of that, if they keep asking their parents to buy these things for them over and over, their parents will eventually tighten their purse strings.
Kaoru: Yeah, totally. They'll be all like, "Go get a textbook instead of wasting money on that kinda useless junk."
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Adonis: Have you been told that before?
Kaoru: Not directly. But when I said I wanted to go to an idol-training school, my parent's response was super sarcastic.
Rei: 'Twould seem we hath drifted slightly from the topic at hand. To return to the salient point, even if one were to take into account the extenuating circumstances Kaoru-kun mentioned, the fact is, our sales are undeniably poor. If I may be so blunt, we, UNDEAD, are on the decline.
Koga: This's exactly why I was against appearin' in cheery shit like variety shows, it ain't suited to our image at all. If we'd strengthened our main weapon by makin' cool music, then—
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Adonis: I think that would have made us fall off much sooner. We would have been treated as outdated idols who cannot read the mood and do not understand the times. Or rather, I think those kinds of considerations are exactly why our senpai decided to take on all sorts of work which you ridiculed as being frivolous, Oogami.
Rei: Nay, we did so simply because we wished it. Just as Koga says, 'tis we who are at fault.
Koga: Wh-what the hell? It ain't like you to just own up to your mistakes.
Rei: I see no merit to behaving mulishly. After all this time, no matter what manner of disgraceful self I expose to you, I am certain none of you will hate me…♪
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Kaoru: Ahaha. I seriously dislike that kind of arrogant behavior~ And like, the fact it's totally true makes it even more annoying ♪ Oh and, you tend to be way too quick to blame everything on yourself. UNDEAD's problems are problems for us all, so don't try to shoulder all the burdens alone.
Adonis: Mn. Sakuma-senpai does do that from time to time. We are not children who cannot take responsibility.
Koga: Yeah, that kinda thing seriously pisses me off~ ♪
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Rei: Oh dear…? Am I more hated than I had initially surmised…?
Kaoru: We're complaining because we like you, alright? If we didn't, we wouldn't care what you do at all.
Rei: Alright… At any rate, our current predicament is a result of our wishy-washy attitude. Originally, we fashioned ourselves as a radical and immoral unit exclusively devoted to the realm of rock. However, of late, we hath been doing the very opposite, delving into the likes of variety shows and other casual jobs which aim to emphasize our approachable disposition. Such conduct runs counter to our "true nature." These days, folks oft muse, "Huh? Those UNDEAD guys look scary, but aren't they surprisingly friendly?" Consequently, we hath broadened our repertoire of jobs... Yet, those who were enamored of the old UNDEAD feel now disillusioned.
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Koga: Cause we put the cart before the horse, didn't we? What we shoulda done was cater to those old fans. They're our real audience, not those frivolous new fans who feel like they know us just cause they saw us on some crappy variety show.
Rei: Nay, both are important. Naturally, we must cherish the long-time fans who hath thus far given us their stalwart support. However, if we do not attract new fans, then ours will be but a short-lived spark, doomed to fade away and disappear as like the light from a hand-held firework. Such is the reality of the idol industry to which we belong— Or rather, that of the entertainment industry entire. 'Tis not the sort of gentle, fairytale world where one who works hard shall always be rewarded with success and eternal love.
[ ☆ ]
Kaoru almost certainly means his father, but because he's persistently using the gender-neutral term 親, I'm just going to keep it as "parent," even though that reads a little strangely in ENG.
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patrickxpearson · 2 years ago
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Dealing with Kane was like dealing with fire. One got too close and they would end up burnt to the bone. It was such a turn-on for Patrick to see someone matching his own tease as easily as breathing. With Kane… he didn’t need to keep up the appearance of a good guy that was merely there to help others. That would bore the living shit out of the security guard and they couldn’t have that – could they? There was just something about Kane that brought out a slightly more predatory and dominant side of the personal trainer. The challenges flying back and forth between them were as good as any sort of foreplay. They were both aware of the effect their words held. They both knew exactly what to say or even do to plant that little seed inside the other person’s mind. All they needed to do after… was wait for it to bloom. “I can have anyone as my personal bitch if I wanted, darlin’…” Patrick’s head tilted to the side, slightly amused by Kane’s choice of words. Was he fishing for compliments now? Wanting some sort of reassurance that even when they fucked –that he wouldn’t be just like any other whore around the island? The amount of provocation that flew back and forth between them already made Kane stand at a level that other men could only dream to accomplish. It wouldn’t just be a one-time fuck everything encounter. After all, Kane knew all the rules of that game. Give just enough to have them coming back. A sure way to guarantee that those with less willpower than him would want him more often than not. Patrick had done that so many times in the past that he could see through Kane’s actions. “Are ye’ worried that once we fuck I’ll lose interest in ye’? That all I want is for ye’ to be my bitch?” Long fingers remained nestled on Kane’s crotch and Patrick let out a little hum of curiosity at the other man’s words. He was truly playing with fire there and he would make Kane’s heat and intensity every step of the way. No more playing coy. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Those were boring after a while. “If yer’ everythin’ I hope ye’ll be… there’s no way this will be a one-time thing. I know and ye’ know it. I want ye’ for more than makin’ yer’ ass bounce on my dick, darlin’… who else challenges me ‘round ‘ere like ye’? No one.” And to prove his damn point after Kane implied that he had doubts whether or not is cock was worth dropping on his knees for – Patrick kept his best poker pace – stoic to the maximum – as he used his free hand to unbutton his pants and pull them down just enough to give the blonde a little preview of what he was packing. That didn’t mean Kane would drop on his knees now… but it would plant the idea on his mind. A win-win scenario.
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“How ‘bout we stop playin’ games?” His voice dropped to a barely audible whisper as Patrick leaned in to brush his own lips against Kane’s. Shit – he could feel the electricity between them and it was taking everything he had not to pick the security guard up and fuck him against the nearest wall. “My cabin. Tonight. Ye’ bring yer’ A-Game, I bring mine and we’ll see who comes out on top.” Such a suitable choice of words. “Ye’ might clear yer’ schedule for tomorrow mornin’. Yer’ not leavin’ ‘till I fee ye’ breakfast straight for the source.” Kane also liked to play with fire – let us see if he could handle the heat. “No more games, darlin’. Just the two of us. Bet ye’ have used yer’ hand thinkin’ ‘bout me more than enough.” Patrick knew he did. “By this night’s end… ye’ll be beggin’ for me to make ye’ mine over and over and over again… And I will.”
There was this back and forth that seemed to happen so effortlessly with Patrick, and that was part of the reason Kane had sought him out so quickly upon his return: the challenge. The two of them were both stubborn, both knew what they wanted from their time at the Haus and the selection of men at hand. They also both knew that the other wasn't going to be the first one to go along with everything that was happening in their heads. Kane's fantasies about Patrick were different than Patrick's fantasies about Kane, or at least they had been at the old location, unless Patrick had a sudden change of heart, the heat of the island getting to his head and unlocking an unexpected submissive streak. That would be ideal when they finally got to the nitty gritty, but in the meantime, the teasing, the intricate foreplay the two did with their words was more than enough, enough to help scope out weaknesses and ways into the others mind, ready to play more games.
Even physically they challenged each other, Patrick's bulkier frame enough of a contrast to Kane's more lithe build but they worked so well together in this continued close contact, Patrick able to hold Kane in place but Kane still able to snake himself around just as easily. Equally matched. A hand on the jaw prompting a tighter squeeze on the crotch, perfect power exchange. Any harder on eithers grip and something could break. "Ye know I'd be sad if ye only wanted me fer yer personal bitch. That shit's too simple." This wasn't about bottoming for the first time with someone different, this was about control, control of their own little worlds and their own desires, and how close to compatibility they were despite the clash of ideas. Although, interesting that Patrick wasn't about to force Kane into anything, when any other client would be throwing the cash at the system with an endless list of things that Kane would be obligated to participate in. "An' who's t'say I'd actually get on me knees fer ya? We still got a right t'say no. An' I ain't convinced yer cock is worth me scuffin' my knees, whether I wanna be doin' it or not."
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But something about the confidence oozing from Patrick's every pore, the certainty that he was going to get what he wanted in the end, with Kane begging desperately for it, it was powerful, and it was the level that Kane saw himself on, knew that this was what he must look like when playing his own games with the others. "Keep thinkin' 'bout me beggin' fer it darlin', imagine the words, 'cause what yer hearin' in yer head ain't gonna be what yer hearin' in real life." He released his grip on Patrick's jaw but didn't move away from the hold the other had on his crotch, unashamedly enjoying the pressure. "But good t'know ye missed me. Nice t'hear ye admit it. Maybe I'm more in yer head than ye think."
And wouldn't that be a damn shame.
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gingersnaaps · 4 years ago
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ctrl + shift + n
you should always remember to close your tabs - especially your tabs of tumblr smut, and especially around miya atsumu.
wc: 1.6k
tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, noncon, fingering, panty gag, finger sucking, condescension, super meta, fem!reader with internal genitals, college!au
a/n: i feel like this has been done before but i’ve had this concept on my mind for a while
i don’t want minors interacting with my content
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Miya Atsumu. Star volleyball player at your college. Undeniably talented. Riddled with scholarship offers and professional opportunities. Infuriatingly attractive.
Also: a terrible group project member.
“Just lemme have a look,” he whines, grabbing at your laptop. “It’ll only take a few seconds. Promise.”
It’s a heroic task, ignoring him. It almost takes as much brainpower as doing his portion of the project for him.
Your eye begins to twitch as his perfectly-filed fingernails intrude at the edge of your screen, obscuring part of the slide you’d been working on. Technically, he should have been the one doing them, but as much of a genius as he may be at volleyball(this fact was grudgingly admitted after you’d watched him play once), he was utterly useless when it came to anatomy and physiology.
And you really, really, needed to end the semester without failing.
The cool metal of the laptop slips out of your grasp, and you roll your eyes so hard that you think they might get stuck in your head.
“Just wanted to see what you’d been workin’ on,” Atsumu says sheepishly. He’s sitting at the opposite end of your couch, legs kicked up and crossed on the coffee table, and the bright screen disappears from view as he begins clicking through the slideshow. “Not bad,” he muses. He presses a few more keys.
His face suddenly changes, a brow quirking as his eyes darken.
“What?” you snap. “Should’ve done it yourself earlier if there’s something you don’t like.”
He jumps slightly, startled by your harsh reaction. “No,” he says quickly. Too quickly. “It’s good. I like it.”
One more thing to note about Miya Atsumu, you thought to yourself: he was probably terrible at poker.
He returns the laptop to you, as promised, and hums idly as you resume working. The two of you sit in silence, but it’s not exactly comfortable - after the awkward exchange, there’s a layer of tension that hangs thick and heavy in the air. The air conditioning drones on in the background, like white noise meant to soothe, but it worms its way into your conscious mind and sits there, just noticeable enough to be irritating. Aside from that, it’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Of course, he’s the one to break the silence.
“Didn’t know you were into that kinda’ stuff.”
You freeze.
“Didn’t think that a girl like you would ever be lookin’ at something so messed up.”
Panic clenches at your stomach, and you reply carefully, voice measured and cold. “What are you talking about?”
“Should really be more careful about which tabs you leave open,” he chuckles.
You scan the cluttered row of tabs at the top; there’s nothing missing. Your eyes dart around the screen frantically -
There’s an incognito window open along your taskbar.
“Rough sex, violent sex, rape? Jesus christ, sweetheart.”
You click nervously, and on the screen, clear as day, is the fic you’d been reading earlier that morning. It’s one of the blogs you frequent - normally one of your favorite places to scroll through after a nasty day - but right now, it seems almost sinister, black font on a white background staring back accusingly as your skin prickles under his gaze. You swallow; a heavy, sinking feeling squeezes at your chest, closes up your throat, makes you feel like you’re dry drowning.
He grabs the laptop back. He’s sitting a lot closer now.
“I mean, just look at this shit. You really want this, huh?”
“No, I- I don’t.” Your voice sounds foreign, far away - you feel like you’re underwater, and your denial sounds guilty even to your own ears.
His lips graze your ear, the warmth of his body spreading to yours as he slides an arm around waist.
“If you wanted to be raped, angel,” he whispers, a terrifying grin stretched wide across his face. “All you had to do was ask.”
He laughs at his clever little joke, and pulls you onto his lap.
You feel numb, paralyzed, unable to fight back or move at all as his hands glide along your inner thighs, kneading the soft, puffy, flesh, spreading them apart until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls your hair to one side and starts kissing along your jaw, rough and sloppy, sharp teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw as you shiver.
He punctuates his words with a harsh squeeze to your thigh, thumb brushing dangerously close to your cunt. “I bet you were getting off t’ this, weren’t you?” he hisses. “Bet you were just dripping down your thighs, squirmin’ around ‘n moaning, fantasizing about some scary man who just takes what he wants.”
The dull, pained, look in your eyes reads like defeat to him, sending a thrill of pleasure through his veins. He’s right, isn’t he? He’s fuckn’ spot on about your little habits, your little fantasies, and he’s gonna make sure that all your dreams come true.
“Let’s do this exactly how it’s written out, how’s that sound? Follow along with your cute story ‘nd everything,” he muses, scrolling down the page. “Starts out with her - you - getting fingerfucked.”
It’s as if those words break some sort of dam inside you, a flurry of tears and sobs heaving out of your chest as his fingers trail up to your clothed clit. You squirm back and forth in his lap, ass rutting against his hardening cock. “Don’t want it,” you whimper. “Don’t make me. Please.”
“Playin’ along, angel? That’s cute.”
He peels your skirt off of you, thumbs hooking around the waistband of your panties as he pulls them off and stuffs them in your mouth. You can taste yourself on the damp fabric that clings to the roof of your mouth, spit soaking through as your whines and protests become muffled.
Fingers spread your pussy apart, sliding and squelching embarrassingly in the slick, your skin cold and exposed in the open air. As he rests his thumb lightly on your clit, he quirks his lips at the way your heartbeat thrums in your cunt, your pussy twitching as you clench around nothing.
Best part is that you like this, that you're turned on by this, he thinks. The fat, silvery, tears streaming down your face mean absolutely nothing when you’re so obviously into it.
He thrusts a long, thick, finger in, all the way to the last knuckle, the calloused pad of his fingertip brushing up against your spongy walls as your pussy contracts and squeezes him tight. “So eager,” he coos. “It’s jus’ like you always imagined, huh?”
You sniffle as the outline of his cock presses into your ass, rutting his hips against you and moaning from the delicious friction of the fabric. There’s nowhere for you to go, one large hand squeezing your waist and holding you down, the other fucking you backwards into his broad chest.
He crooks his finger; you sob, body drawn taught with pleasure, and he pushes another inside as you spasm. He’s good with his hands, unfairly good, his thumb nudging against your sweet clit in circles as his fingers scissor your walls and stretch you out so good. It’s as if you’re his little puppet, jerking around whenever he drags his fingers roughly against your g-spot, crying out through your stuffed mouth as blunt teeth sink into your neck and his tongue runs along the ridge of your ear.
“You’re makin’ a mess, pretty girl,” he murmurs, watching in delight as you flush with shame. “Dripping into my palm and all down your thighs, just like the girl in the story.”
You turn your head, trying to look away, but he grabs at the hinge of your jaw and forces you to meet his gaze. It’s taunting, cruel - he looks so pleased with himself as he fingers you until your thighs start trembling, walls clenching erratically as pleasure builds and builds.
His grip on your face turns tight, pressing bruises into your skin as you cream and gush around his thick digits. The orgasm crashes down on you in waves of pleasure, his fingers fucking you through it with constant probing and circling and stimulation.
His nimble fingers pluck the panties from your mouth, soaked with drool, and tosses them aside onto the floor. “Open up,” he says, prying at your mouth.
Your jaw goes slack, falling open, too tired to put up a fight as he shoves his fingers in. You’re not sure there’s much of a point. You suck sloppily, tongue laving around his digits, cleaning your cum off of him as he shoves his hand in deeper, making you gag and retch, and he moans loudly at the sight. You look so perfect - his precious little angel choking on his fingers, eyes watering and body trembling as you do everything he makes you.
You’re shivering when he withdraws his fingers with a pop.
He helps you put your clothes back on, wet panties sliding across your skin and leaving trails of shining slick. It sticks and clings to your pussy, makes you feel all filthy and used, and bile rises in your throat. Goosebumps ripple down your thigh at the sensation of cool air.
Atsumu nuzzles at your neck, fingers patting at your spent pussy, his tenderness almost mocking, and clicks back to the slideshow you’d been working on.
“Let’s save the cock for after you get us the A, hmm?”
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ajwamiju-archives · 3 years ago
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Birthday Comfort
Warnings: Injury, a lot of swearing, reader getting kinda mad lol, descriptions of falling down the stairs lmao, suggestive, but what do you expect from me?
Characters: Kita Shinsuke, Futakuchi Kenji, Ennoshita Chikara
A/n: So, what a way to turn 18 am I right? I turned 18 like three days ago and everything you will read in each character's section are the things that happened to me a day before my birthday up until a day after (as in, all readers had a bad birthday) (I didn't have hot 2-dimensional men comforting me though, wish I did), just a way for me to vent lmao don't perceive me. The only reason I chose those three characters are bc they're my favourites and I would like to be comforted like that hehe.
Also most definitely not beta read, so I might accidentally write in pronouns or nicknames when I most definitely do not intend to. Might edit later, we'll see.
Kita Shinsuke
"Would'ja like to tell me how ya feel?" Kita asks as he gently inspects your aching foot, pressing gently on points he suspects may be affected.
"Well," you mumble, continuing to watch Kita slowly massage your foot. "I feel as fine as a person who had their birthday yesterday but was sick the day before, was unintentionally left out from their own party the day of, and fell down the stairs the day after. Well, scratch that off my bucket list." You answer with a giggle.
"And why would that even be in yer bucket list?" He asks once more, raising an eyebrow at your response.
"Makin' light of the situation." You answer honestly with a shrug. "It's better than sulkin' the whole day, the very least I can laugh at somethin'."
Kita shakes his head and sighs while his lips twitch up in amusement. He continues to check your foot before gently placing ice on the bruising areas. "It's good that ye're tryna find somethin' positive in this situation." He says.
"I'll take it as a reminder of how shitty adult life will be." You huff as you lay back down on the bed. "Reality check, I suppose."
Your boyfriend, bless his heart, laughs at that, going up to check at the places you hit during your small tumble down the stairs. "I've was 18 a year and a half ago, adult life ain't so bad."
"Ooh buddy, ya don't know what's comin' for ya. I'd know, I've seen shit I shouldn't be seein' when I was younger."
"How did that even happen?"
"... Did ya seriously forget the internet is a thing? I mean, I know ya don't use it much but ya do know what sorta shit is in there, right?"
Kita continues to patiently treat your blooming bruises while listening to you rant about what you've seen throughout your whole life, grimacing when you mention things that even he thinks he shouldn't know and chuckling at things he finds amusing.
"... And that's how I found out that fuckin' two girls one cup ain't about two girls sharin' a fuckin' cup of juice. I was 13, Shinsuke, fuckin' 13!" You end as Kita finally finishes tending to you.
"Ya've seen a lot, huh?"
"And ya've heard a lot, so I dunno how in the fuck ye're still as sane as ya are."
"Ya wouldn't have anyone to tell these weird things to if I backed out though."
You hum as you finally pull Kita onto the bed and rest your cheek on his chest, slinging your good leg over his legs, clinging to him like a koala. "Yeah, and I really love ya for that y'know? I mean, I love just about every single thing about ya but ya listenin' to the weird shit I talk about is one of 'em."
"I know, and I love hearin' ya talk about those weird shit too."
"I also really love it when ya break my back--"
"Okay, as much as I like what ye're insinuatin', let's not go there for now, ye're injured."
Even if he did say that, Kita can't help but smile almost blindingly when he hears your little giggles and small "I'm just teasin'" in between the giggles.
Futakuchi Kenji
"I don't know if I should laugh or be sorry for you." Futakuchi says as he follows behind you, making your way to class with crutches. "I mean, imagine! Breaking your ankle for gour birthday! God must really be pissed at you."
"Laugh at me with pity, or whatever." You grumble, ignoring the stares of passing students.
And Futakuchi does exactly that, he laughs at your misery though you can somehow hear a hint of pity in it. Or maybe that's just you desperately hoping that your boyfriend can be anything other than a menace to society.
"So, that means I have to be gentle with you now?" Futakuchi asks with a teasing smirk.
"If I didn't love you, I would've socked you square in the fucking face by now." You mutter, trying to speed up even with the crutches.
"Aw, but your foot's broken, doubt you'll even be able to do much like this." Futakuchi teases, easily keeping up with your pace.
"For the record, I twisted my ankle, my foot isn't fucking broken. Secondly," you trail off as you stop in front of Futakuchi, who's looking at you quizzically. "That doesn't mean I can't find other ways to keep you in line."
As you finished saying that, you hit your boyfriend's shin semi-hard with one of your cruches before quickly leaving him to go to your class. You peek your head out to see Futakuchi pouting at you in the distance, clutching his shin which you're sure doesn't actually hurt that much.
You giggle and make a heart with your thumb and middle finger. "Love you! See you at lunch!"
He responds with the same thumb-middle finger heart combo and an uncharacteristically soft smile. "If you're late to lunch because of your stupid broken leg, I'm stealing your fucking crutches."
"Yeah, you do that and you're carrying me everywhere, and you're not allowed to touch me outside of carrying me."
"You hell-spawn of a human being."
"Love you too!"
Ennoshita Chikara
"Are you sure you don't need help?" Ennoshita asks as he checks on you after helping you down the stairs.
"Chikara, there aren't any stairs to the gym from this point forward. I'm in cruches, not in a wheelchair." You huff as you start to walk away to the gym, where you'd hang out by watching the boy's volleyball club practise.
"There are three steps up to the gym! And how are you going to dodge any stray balls? What if you fall off the steps again?" He fusses as he follows you to the gym.
Valid concerns, but you're stubborn and Chikara promised to take you out a few days after your birthday because you've reserved D-day for your family and the only reason you weren't able to go out on the day after your birthday was because you fell down the stairs which has led you to be in cruches for now.
"I'll be fine, it's not like I broke my leg or anything, I just sprained my ankle." You shrug him off as you slowly make your way to the corridor between the school and the gym. "Nothing could've beat that time you went so hard, I--"
"Let's not... talk about that now. What's more important is you're barely able to balance yourself on these steps! How are you going to dodge stray balls in the gym!"
"I told you, I'll be fine. I've dodged stray balls with an aching knee before, what difference would it make?"
"Well, you weren't exactly in crutches back then..."
Point taken. You can't even argue with that because your sprained ankle feel's far worse than the time you thought you broke your knee cap.
"Fine, so where the hell else am I supposed to wait then? I want to see you play too, y'know?"
"You can watch me from the steps leading up to the gym, but not inside the gym. Dodging balls will be far easier there."
"Then promise me you'll play as near to the door as possible?"
Ennoshita sighs and pats your head as he helps you up the steps, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I will, after that we'll get ice cream as promised."
You let go of your cruches as you sit down and give him small fist pumps, an excited look in your eyes. "Love you! Don't take too long and leave cleaning to mostly Tanaka-san and Nishinoya-san!"
"Love you too, and I would do that if I could. I'll try my best to leave earlier." Ennoshita says, placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. "Be careful alright, I'll be going to practise now."
You giggle when you hear his teammates teasing him once he steps inside before hearing his (very hot) captain voice he uses on them. You can imagine poor Yachi flinching at the scene, but you're quite sure Tanaka and Nishinoya will be doing a bit more cleaning now.
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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago
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DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato [Track 2]
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Original title: 夜の湖
Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru
Translator’s note: If there’s one thing Rejet knows to do with these CDs, it’s keeping us on the edge of our seats! The final bit of this CD was actual one of the voice samples released prior to its release and I remember being extremely intrigued by it back then! Even while listening to the actual CD, it got me super curious and I couldn’t wait to listen to the next track to find out what is going on with the MC.
Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue
→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!
Track 2: The Lake at Night
The two of you are walking through the forest until you eventually reach the lake.
“...Is this the place you’ve been dyin’ to visit? It’s just a regular old lake, no? There’s seriously nothin’ special ‘bout it at all...It was stupid of me to even expect anythin’ from you in the first place.”
You explain.
“Haahー!? The sunrise...? ...Don’t tell me you want to stay here until dawn!?”
You nod.
“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. Do you even know how much time’s left till sunrise!? ...See you.”
Ayato tries to leave but you quickly stop him, insisting you can chat till the sun rises.
*Rustle*
“What? Don’t give me that nonsense! Why did we need to come all the way over here just to have a chat? We can just talk at home!”
You shake your head.
“Haah? There’s other people around then? ...Oh. In other words, you wanted an excuse to be all alone with me?”
You elaborate on your idea.
“A quiet time, huh...? I thought you liked things to be lively though. Well, I won’t deny those dudes are hella annoyin’. I turn my back for one second and they try to make a move on you. I’ll admit we can never truly feel at ease in that kinda environment.”
He plops down on the grass.
“...There we go. ...Oi, hurry up and lend me your lap already. You don’t expect me to get comfortable without a pillow, right?
You take a seat next to him as he rests his head in your lap.
*Rustle rustle*
“...Hmph.”
You smile and admit enjoying these times together. 
“...It’s nice to sit back and relax at times, huh? Damn, you really sounded like a granny just now. I don’t understand. This is just dull, you might as well be dead. ...I mean, you humans have a limited lifespan, right? Then doesn’t this feel like a waste? Isn’t it normal to want to enjoy yourself, maybe have some good food or something? ...Well, I’m a Vampire and immortal so I don’t really care either way.”
You explain.
“Hmph. If you like this, then whatever. You’re so easy to please. (1) But don’t come complaining to me afterwards.”
You chuckle. 
“Don’t laugh, geez. ...Actually, you’ve been actin’ kinda off. Like you’re in bad shape...or lackin’ energy. Did you eat somethin’ which had gone bad or somethin’?”
You retaliate.
“I wonder. Hehehe...Well, seems like you still have the energy to talk back at least. ...By the way, you remember the promise we made, right? I told you I’d suck your blood if you failed to entertain me, didn’t I?”
You flinch.
“Look at that pathetic look on your face. Did you think I had forgotten?”
You try and bribe him with the lap pillow. 
“Hmph. You’ll stay like this a lil’ longer? All you’re doing is lending me your lap though? You haven’t been tellin’ me any interestin’ stories either. ...Are you perhaps teasin’ me on purpose?”
You quickly shake your head.
“In that case, it makes sense.”
You frantically flail with your arms while trying to explain yourself. 
“Hehe...Hehehe...No need to get so desperate trying to deny it. Your funny expression is only becomin’ even more hilarious. I’ll content myself with that for now and leave the real fun for later. Guess you should be grateful to your own face.”
You say thank you.
“...Aah? Why would you thank me for that? Lemme tell you, but I prefer suckin’ your blood after scarin’ the livin’ hell out of you. It’s just not the time for that yet, that’s all. Heh!”
The wind blows in the background.
“...For real though, what are you gonna do ‘bout this depressin’ mood? You should take some responsibility and talk to me. Anythin’ will do at this point. You wanted to enjoy some idle talk, right? Come on.”
You bring up the past.
“What? Our first meeting? You really think I remember all of that? ...Ahー But if I recall correctly...I was nappin’ in the living room while the thunder roared outside...Right! I was woken up because you made a huge fuss.”
You tell him you were truly shocked back then.
“Haha...You mistook me for a dead person, didn’t you? Goin’ on ‘bout callin’ an ambulance or some shit. Bit of an overreaction, don’t you think? Yours Truly doesn’t just die! 
Well, I doubt you knew we were Vampires at that point. I was hella thirsty back then, so when an energetic-looking prey walked right up to me, I obviously had to go straight for a bite. Yet, that damn Four-Eyes had the nerve to get in my way!”
You tell him you nearly forgot about that.
“Excuse me? Don’t be forgettin’ ‘bout that when you’re the one who brought up this topic!”
You admit to being surprised Ayato recalls so much.
“I remember plenty of other things as well! You better don’t underestimate my memory! ...Actually, why don’t I help you remember a few more embarrassing moments? No need to be modest. Whatcha so afraid of?”
You flinch.
“Hehe...Are you scared of me?”
You hesitate.
“What? If you’ve got somethin’ to say, then spit it out.”
You explain.
“What do you mean you’re no longer scared of me like you were at first? You flinched just now!”
You frown.
“Why can’t you put it into words well? Don’t tell me you’re makin’ fun of me?”
You shake your head.
“Then what is it?”
You try and put your feelings into words. 
“Haah!? I don’t understand what you mean with ‘because we understand each other now’. Geez. ...But well, there’s a few things I learnt through living together with you as well, I guess. Humans are weak. They die so easily. They’ve got a limited life span as well. ...That’s not all. They love to fuss ‘bout the details and they’re so infuriatingly slow and clumsy. They get upset over the most trivial things or cry over nothing. Also...Sometimes the strangest things make them happy. Furthermore, they’d go through the trouble of comin’ to these kinda places. Ahー What a drag.”
You thank Ayato for keeping up with you. 
“Che...Why are you thanking me now? I really don’t understand that sorta behavior of yours. Fuck.”
You ask if he would like to head back soon. 
“Aah...? What do you mean ‘soon’? Of course I want to head home already! ...But well, you still want to stay here a lil’ longer, right? ...Just the two of us.”
You nod.
“Oh? You’re bein’ surprisingly honest. Do you want to be with me that badly?”
You nod again.
“Heh. You just said you want to be together forever, huh? Fool. You really think I’d let you go? You can no longer leave me. ...Not ever.”
You suddenly frown.
“What? Got a problem with that?”
You quickly turn your head and try to make excuses. 
“No point in tryin’ to hide it. You’re an open book after all. ...Don’t tell me you actually believe you could get away from me?”
You shake your head.
“If that’s not it, then don’t look so damn anxious. ...Heh. Actually, I bet you were thinking that you can’t live forever?”
Your eyes widen in surprise before you ask him how he knows.
“Heh. I know everything that goes on in that head of yours. ...Don’t be worryin’ about those kind of stupid things. Did you drag me all the way out here to talk ‘bout that shit? ...You didn’t, right? Pretty sure I told you to entertain me.”
Ayato suddenly pins you down.
*Thud*
“I bet you’re rackin’ your brain over complicated shit again? Good job gettin’ yourself pinned down. ...Just so you know, there’s no point in tryin’ to cover it up. Even if you keep quiet, I can tell by lookin’ in your eyes. Che...! I should just be the only thing on your mind. Well, I’ll just force myself inside your head if I need to. ...I’ll make it so you can’t worry about anything unnecessary.”
*Sluuuuurp*
“Mmh...”
*Sluuuuurp*
“I’m not lettin’ you go any time soon...So brace yourself.”
*Sluuuuurp*
“Nnh...”
*Sluuuuurp*
“...Hah. Come on. Sit up already. Don’t you understand? I’m givin’ you special permission to sit down on my lap. Hurry up...”
*Rustle rustle*
“Say…Doin’ this doesn’t feel half bad, does it? …Just admit it.”
*Sluuuuurp*
"Come on. Don’t close your eyes. Make sure to watch…how you’re bein’ turned into a mess.”
*Sluuuuurp*
"Hehehe…Seems like you’re ‘bout to lose it from sheer excitement. Show me more of that expression.”
*Sluuuuurp*
"Don’t you dare let the other guys see you like this.”
You whimper.
“Listen up. You’re fated to continue havin’ your blood sucked by me like this. Both now and in the future. Foreverーー”
You nod.
“Heh. Glad you understand.”
Ayato gets up and wipes some dirt off his pants.
“…Woah. The wind has picked up. …Oi, we should probably head home soon. I don’t want to get nagged at later.”
You remain unmoved.
“Come on. Get up already. Or has your back thrown out? …Guess you leave me no other choice.”
*Rustle*
“Come on. Gimme your hand. …Hah? What’s wrong? Grab it already.”
You shake your head.
“Oi, there really is somethin’ off ‘bout you? Come on.”
Ayato grabs your hand.
“…Eh? Doesn’t your hand…feel colder than usual? What’s wrong, for real? …Can’t you hear me? Oi! …Idiot! Don’t close your eyes! Answer me! Chichinashi!!
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
Translation notes
(1) Ayato calls her 無欲 or ‘muyoku’, which is used to describe someone who is free from any ‘worldly desires’. 
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sup3rsexy-ax0lotl · 3 years ago
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I've recently started watching mlp again (despite being in my mid teens) and I swear I am going to wife up Applejack. It is my life goal.
♡ 18+ fanfic
♡ Will include smut if I feel like it y'all be patient
♡ A lot of cheesy romance ahead, you've been warned 🧍🧍
♡ This is a wlw fanfic so men go away 😌💞
♡ Mild blood warning but not too bad it's a little tiny cut
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~ Apple of my Eye ~
You'd grown familiar with the people of Ponyville, though you were very much closer to some than others, but despite that everyone loved seeing you around the town. Your closest friends were the "Main Six" of Ponyville: Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Applejack (your best friend from the whole group).
You and Applejack had grown a bond unlike any of the rest of the people in the Ponyville. She made you feel special and always made sure you were comfortable and happy with your work. Even on her busy days tending to her farm she would spare a minute to talk to you. Of course if she ever needed help you would drop everything immediately to aid her in anything she needed; be it apple picking or repainting the barn.
As your friendship grew with Applejack, however, you couldn't help but notice a heaviness in your chest whenever the two of you were apart. But it would feel even heavier when you were together.
At first, it left you confused, but as it started to interfere with your work, you grew frustrated. Why wouldn't this feeling ever go away? Why couldn't you go a day without thinking about Applejack? It just didn't make sense to you.
Having had enough of this feeling, you consulted with the rest of your friends about your heavy heart only to be met with the four of them smiling between each other.
"Darling," Rarity spoke up, "it seems to us that you may have a certain... fondness for dear Applejack. Perhaps one that friends wouldn't normally have?"
You blinked.
What?
"What Rarity is trying to say," Twilight spoke out, smiling at you, "is that it's clear you like Applejack as more than a friend,"
Then it hit you.
You liked Applejack.
How had you not figured that out sooner?
Finally seeking out the conclusion you were looking for, you decided to go home, hoping to get the first good night's rest you'd been missing out on for days.
The next morning, you headed straight for Sweet Apple Acres to check if the Apple family needed any help. You noticed Big Mac and Apple Bloom out on the fields tending to some newly sprouted trees, Apple Bloom jumping in excitement while Big Mac kept his usual soft smile.
You leaned against the fence and called out to them, "Hey guys! Is Applejack around?"
"Oh hey Y/N! Yeah she's just over there picking for apples. She could use some help I think,"
Apple Bloom pointed towards some trees further out and you realised you would be alone with Applejack for a while.
You swallowed hard and made your way towards her.
~×~
"Whoo, that is mighty fine work. Thanks a lot for helping me again with the pickin' sugar cube," Apple said with a slight pant to her voice as she rested a hand on your shoulder. The two of you had managed to fill two barrels with vibrant red and green apples.
"You're welcome, Apple Pie," You smiled at her, but brushed her hand off of you to pick up one of the barrels.
"How many times have I told ya not to call me that?" She questioned, but laughed as she did so, picking up the other barrel. You laughed with her but gave no response, feeling no need to. Anyways, you liked hearing her laugh.
"Oh, would you look at those beauties," Granny Smith remarked as you placed your barrel down on the kitchen floor. "You strong girlies need a rest. I'll get you both some Apple cider, how's that sound?"
She was already pushing the two of you out of the room before either of you could object, so you both shrugged at each other and sat down on the porch, watching the sky turn pink. 
Applejack sighed as she took off her hat to lean against the wall, her eyes closed, a peaceful expression on her face. You opened your mouth to speak but decided against it and kept quiet, letting her rest. Noticing Apple Bloom and Big Mac still out on the fields, you smiled and thought about how happy you might be if you were part of the Apple family. They always seem to have fun; even on busy days.
"What's wrong sweety?" Applejack interrupted your thoughts and you noticed a frown had made its way onto your face.  You looked up to meet her eyes, their green hue glowing in the golden light of the sunset, and you sighed.
"I-"
"Here you go dearies, some nice cold cider," Granny Smith's voice cut in as she carefully carried the cider out onto the porch on shaky legs.
"Oh, let me take that from ya Granny." Applejack took the two drinks from Granny Smith's hands and smiled as she passed yours to you. You took it with a quiet "thank you."
"Now, what were you goin' to say there, sugar?" Applejack inquired, but you just responded by saying you remembered you had some work to do before the week ended. She offered to help you but you kindly declined, your mind racing at the thought of her being in such a close proximity to you. You sighed again and sipped on your cider, ignoring Applejack's stare.
~×~
After finishing your drink you said your goodbyes to the Apple family, offering a quick glance at Applejack before leaving. You were headed back to your home in the town, deep in thought when the shrill screech of a voice hit your ears.
"Y/N!!"
You stopped dead in your tracks and turned to the voice that had scared you, recognising it as your friend Pinkie Pie. "Oh, hey Pinkie," You smiled at your excited friend, though admittedly it was forced.
"You look sad, Y/N. What happened?" She asked, concern clear in her voice. Before you could answer, she gasped and came to her own conclusion.
"DID YOU TRY TALKING TO APPLEJACK!?" You slapped your hand over her mouth and shushed her, pulling her behind a building. "Yes but shut up I don't need everyone in Ponyville knowing I like Apple, okay?" You practically begged, and she nodded, even going as far as to Pinkie promise not to tell anyone.
"Maybe, try telling her tomorrow?" She inquired and you nodded, but you felt your stomach twist into a knot.
~x~
As soon as the sun was shining through your window you stumbled out of bed and made the dreaded journey to Sweet Apple Acres. You decided doing what Pinkie insisted would be better for you in the long run, not wanting to have her hovering over your shoulder every hour of every day.
The walk was slow due to hesitation filling your body and the fear of confessing making your blood run cold. This feeling was unfamiliar to you; you'd never liked anyone this much before. And the thought of losing Applejack's friendship was even scarier.
"No. I can't think about that," You whispered to yourself, clenching your fists and continuing the journey on steady feet.
~×~
"Heya darlin'," Applejack called out from the porch as she noticed you walking up the path, "You're startin' to spoil me with all this help you're givin'," She joked with a wink, making your heart stop. Letting out a nervous laugh, you rubbed your shoulder and looked her in the eye. They were sparkling again in the warm light of the sunrise, and you felt your stomach twist tighter as you fell for her even harder.
"Well anyways, everyone's out working on the fields today, so that leaves us baking apple pies. That okay with you, Sugar?" Applejack informed and you nodded, smiling slightly.
You'd be working alone with Applejack.
Upon entering the kitchen, Applejack assigned you the role of apple preparation while she made the dough. She carefully passed you a knife to cut the apples after washing them and you began chopping. A peaceful silence washed over the two of you as you concentrated on your tasks, but of course, Pinkie's words sat at the back of your mind.
"Try telling her," echoed through your thoughts and you clenched the knife a little harder.
Just try making conversation first.
"So, how come we're making pies?"
"We're runnin' low on baked goods so Granny told me to start makin' some more. That, and, we make a pretty good team," She beamed at you and you felt the blood rising to your cheeks so you quickly looked back down to continue chopping.
"Yeah, I suppose we do..."
"Honey, you seem a little down. What's wrong, Sweety?"
You felt panic shoot through you and started to shake. 'Be honest,' was the next thing. You continued cutting with a shaking hand. 'No, if I was honest now I'd ruin everything,' you thought, so deep in your own doubts you were no longer paying attention to how you were cutting.
You felt the blade come down on your finger and you hissed, pulling away and clenching your hand tight.
"Fucking shit," You cursed in a panic.
Applejack looked over to you with wide eyes.
"Y/N!" She rushed over to you and took your hand, holding it over the sink as she ran cold water over your bleeding finger. She left you for a minute to grab a clean cloth and a bandaid and returned to you with a furrowed brow.
"That was stupid. What the hell is goin' on with you, sugar cube?"
You looked down at her hand holding yours, your cut freshly cleaned and covered. A hand met your cheek and you looked back up at Applejack, her face now more concerned than angry.
"You've been awful distracted lately, what's on your mind?"
Her hand left your cheek to rest on your shoulder, a sad smile growing on her face. You couldn't help but feel like this was going to be the end of a wonderful friendship - just the thought of Applejack avoiding you made you feel sick.
You sighed.
'Now or never.'
"Applejack I... I like you. A lot. As more than a friend."
...
Silence filled the room.
You started to panic.
"Fuck I messed up," You thought to yourself.
But just as you were about to pull your hand away, her grip tightend, and you looked up to see a smiling Applejack with a pink tint resting on her cheeks.
"Sweety, was that all?" She laughed softly.
"You're not uncomfortable or upset?"
"Upset? Hun, why would I be upset? I've been racking my brain trying to think of ways to tell you I... I like you too."
"I like you too."
Those words echoed in your mind and you felt your body finally relax for the first time in weeks.
"You like me too?" You spoke in awe, smiling as a wave of relief washed over you.
A soft pair of lips to your forehead were conformation enough for you and sighed a contented sigh, looking Applejack in eye.
"I do," She whispered as she leaned in closer to you until you felt her lips fall against yours. The kiss was sweet and you both very easily found a rhythm that felt natural, as if you'd already kissed a thousand times before.
Her lips were soft, and you could taste the fainted taste of apples on your tongue.
Her hand caressed your cheek, down your jaw and rested on your collar bone as she pulled away, leaving you breathless.
"Now," Applejack started, "since we've got all that mushy shit outta the way, how about we get back to bakin'," She gestured at the mess on the kitchen counter and you laughed, nodding your head.
"This time, I'll do the choppin'."
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leo-interactive-fiction · 4 years ago
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Wait!! What about a mirror World scenerio where the ros meet their counterpart like alter E is a big bully or something and for more angst alter MC died to save the ros please ಥ‿ಥ
Haha, that’s an interesting ask! There might be some slight spoilers, so beware. I’ll just label them as Alt’X’ for each character’s mirror. Let’s see...
E: Though they bare a similar appearance, AltE carries a hollow glare over a blood-flecked face. Each step they take dispairs E, who bites back their sunken dismay. “What happened to you...?” AltE glowers, “Everything that didn’t happen to you. But I still have power, and I’ll use it to take back everything I lost.” “Our power wasn’t meant for that--” “My power is meant for whatever I need it for,” AltE interjects, readying their stance, “Kill me if you think you can. I’m not changing course otherwise.” “Wha-- No, I...I don’t want to kill anyone...” “Then you’ll die more pathetic than most.”
R: a figure dressed in a gold-lined suit passes their brimmed hat to their consigliere, causing R’s expression to sour. “Ran back to him, did you?” “A half-truth,” AltR crosses the threshold between them with a chilling levity, “The family isn’t something to disregard. Not when we all could benefit. Isn’t that what we wanted? A carefree life. Is the price of carrying along with a simple deceit really worth giving that up?” “I’ve heard that before.” “Our father did everything in his power to solidify our family’s stability,” AltR extends a manicured hand, “It’s not too late to return, you know. There’s plenty of uses for people like us, and no amount of comfort unavailable to you. Our father can assure to that.” R turns away the hand, “Your father, perhaps. I think I’ll take chances down my own road.” “I’ve yet to hear a truer misfortune. Your abilities were a keen reason to extend my hand, which makes this an unfortunate loss,” AltR turns away, waving to their partner, “Plan B. Get rid of the outliers.”
L: AltL approaches with a familiar Hospian blade in hand, its polished surface casting light into L’s eyes with a deadly sheen. “So you’ve chosen violence...” “I’ve chosen Victory,” AltL stabs their sword into the ground, raising their fingers to the laurel pin in their hair, “The wisest method of achieving peace is through that selfsame method. To conquer is to unify. This is the future I foresee, and the one I aim to bring about.” “I only see the destruction and pain you’ll bring.” “Then you’re short-sighted. Every fire begets flowers in the spring. The rubble I create will bear materials to rebuild for a better tomorrow.” “Any future built upon the sacrifices and anguish of the innocent, even in the name of a greater good, is one I can not abide by!” AltL reclaims their arms, “Abide in your grave! I see only one path before me, and you stand before it!”
V: V aims their pistol at the slender figure before them, a hesitance resting on their trigger figure as AltV stares at them with an expression of heavy grief, “They’ve done so much to you.” V steadies their hand, “Who are you? A spy? Why are you...” “Don’t you recognize yourself?” “You’re different.” “I never ventured over that hill.” V freezes, losing their hold on Silvy and allow the firearm to clatter unceremoniously to the ground. AltV takes a tentative step closer, a hopefulness in their tone, “I can give you a second chance! Don’t you want to see them again?” “Them...?” “You know...the Nomads. Our--” “No, no!” V covers their ears with an agonizing cry, “Get them out of my head! I don’t want to see it again! It’ll happen again!” AltV watches on in grim sorrow, “They’ve done so much to you...”
P: P’s eyes narrow on the golden wreathed spear their doppelganger carries, their tone very nearly spitting acid. “Seeing myself wield that so easily pisses me off...” “And seeing you still wallowing in your weakness makes me sick. I guess they never taught maturity in this world.” “Shut the hell up before I fucking pike you with that damn spear.” “Is creating a string of expletives the height of your vocabulary?” “You must not’ve gotten a good ass-kicking when you were younger if you turned into such a pompous little shit.” The two of them huff, their words crossing over each other simultaneously: “At least I’m not as insufferable as you.”
M: M’s brow raises at the anguished look their alterego gives them past their glasses, their own eyes gazing over the neatly tied hair and manicured outfit until the alter ego speaks up. “You look like an absolute mess! I don’t know how I feel seeing my own body in such an awful condition.” “I don’t...wear glasses...” “What? I’m...” AltM touches their glasses with a puzzled look, “...You know we’re far-sighted, right?” “I can...see fine...I think...” AltM comes close and holds their hand up in front of M’s face, “How many fingers am I holding up?” “...Four...” “It’s one finger.” “That’s...okay...” AltM gives a scrutinizing look, “Are you an idiot?” M gives a light laugh. “How many fingers...am I holding...?” They ask before sending a solid punch into their doppelganger's face. Wiping off the small patch of blood welling on their knuckle, they hum over the unconscious body, “You had glasses...so...I’m a little...surprised...you couldn’t see that...”
Ra: Raven paces around their alter-ego with a darkened glower. Mirroring them, AltRa backpedals with a fretting look. “Are...you okay?” “Look at you,” Raven seethes venomously, “Still being raised on lies, or maybe they’re now truths to you. By that witch.” “I was glad to have been raised by--” “Don’t!” Raven nearly pounces on them, shutting down their vocalization with their own vehement protest, “Don’t you dare say that name!” “What happened between you...?” “Nothing!” “Ka--” “No!” Raven looms over their cowering alter, their fingers tightening around the grip of their knife, “I’m -- We’re -- Raven, and...we’re going to have an...eventful discussion...”
S: S gives a hard look to the figure before them, adorned in a racing jacket emblazoned with a cogwheel symbol etched in gold. S reacts with a voice of clear animosity. “Well, would’ya look at that. Rightfully sponsored, and by Gear no less.” “Ya gunna get on me for makin’ good on an opportunity? Were ya plannin’ on livin’ in that hovel scrapyard forever?” “That’s home to me! That’s where all our family is!” “Our family was better relocated.” “What?” S’s shock gives way to a rising fury, “Ya sold out the yard?! That was...Everything. Ma an’ Pa gave everything to that place!” AltS’s brow creases into a stony countenance, “An’ it wasn’t workin’ out. Family ain’t just gunna pop our dinner into existence.” “Shut the hell up ya damn sellout. I’d rather starve.” “Guess this world ain’t one for common sense,” AltS mutters, taking off their jacket, “Ah well. Let’s get this over with, yeah?”
F: They cross their arms upon coming face to face with AltF, glancing over their baggy street clothes and unkempt hair with a displeasure at their mouth. They easily recognize the bow hanging over their shoulder. “You’ve come to the wrong place for sport, I’m afraid. Your hunt has ended before its begun.” AltF shakes their head, “I’m here for you. To appease you, as ruler of my own world.” “A ruler who would wrap themselves in pauper’s wear. A testement to the sorry condition of your nation, brought upon by weak ruler. But I will be different.” “You misrepreset me. We have relinquished much of our material wealth, but those still yet present hold spirit beyond their means. But such rulership that you anticipate will alienate our proud people--” “I’ll not have you lecturing me upon the finer points of my actions,” F snaps coldly, “Ruling is my birthright! In the progress of my livelihood have I carried the expectation of my duties, and I will spend the rest of it in assurance that I fulfill them, even should it come at a cost to the rest of the world. My duty is to Frenza foremost.” “I see now that it may be unwise to continue a discourse. You’ve blinded yourself to your place in the world, content to your familiarity.” “You think yourself more righteous than your station, Husk. Morality holds little place here,” F releases a self-satisfied smile, “Should my people call for injustices and bay for blood, who am I to refuse their pleas?”
Thank ya for the ask, it was fun to write though it took some time to come up with stuff haha. I hope ya enjoy
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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago
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Hi I was wondering if u could do a sequel to your trade off fanfic it’s sooo good and I need to know what happens next?!?!
You should just count yourself lucky this was one of the few pieces I wrote with a small continuation in-mind. Osamu’s my favorite, out of the twins, but it’s hard not to imagine Atsumu taking every opportunity to steal attention away from his twin, even with the twin they’re supposed to be sharing. He seems like the type to get… desperate, when he’s not in the spotlight.
Part One.
TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipualtion, Mentions of Violence, Slight Dehumanization, and Sligh Infantalization.
~
Osamu was stricter than Atsumu.
Atsumu was never kind. Even when you loved him, even when your relationship had been normal, he’d never been the type of boyfriend to bring home flowers or surprise you with a home-cooked dinner, even if he was more than happy to hang off of your waist and moan about how long it was taking as you made sure your pro-athlete didn’t starve to death. No, he wasn’t considerate, he wasn’t even nice, but he never made an effort to be cruel, either. When you acted-up, when you tried to run away, he would slap you or put you over his knee or do something painful and humiliating, but it’d never last for more than a few hours, and as long as you apologized and promised to be better, he’d never hold it against you. Osamu had rules. He had a method to his madness. When you fought back, you weren’t just told you were incapable, you were treated like you were incapable. Your restraints got tighter, your freedoms dwindled until they’d abandoned you completely. He’d let your misdeeds build up until he had to hurt you, until he could say he didn’t have a choice. He stood back and watch you dig your own grave, only to push you in when it was too deep to climb out of.
Atsumu treated you like a partner who didn’t know they were meant to love him back.
Osamu treated you like a pet who should know better than to not love him back.
That’s not to say you didn’t still hate Atsumu. You did. You hated him and his brother more than one person should hate anyone. You just couldn’t rember why you’d hated Atsumu so much--
“Hey there, thinkin’ about how much you miss me?”
Oh. Right.
That’s why.
It took you a second too long to curl into yourself, to snap in the direction of the familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone and bare your teeth at Atsumu’s smirking, unwanted face. You had been lost in thought, technically, but not of your own volition. After your latest bout of ‘misbehavior’, as your current captor put it, he’d started confiscating your books, your luxuries, anything and everything that might stop you from reconsidering your actions, like a child forced in the corner for a prolonged time-out. You didn’t have anything to do except think, but Atsumu didn’t have to know that. He didn’t get to know that. He didn’t get to know anything about you.
“Why the fuck are you here?” You spat, forcing the question out through gritted teeth. Anyone else stumbling into your bedroom would’ve been a god-send, it would’ve been a miracle. If Atsumu decided to make an appearance, it was only to throw you back into his basement, rather than his brother’s spare room. “Don’t tell me that you and Osamu are comparing notes, now. You might actually figure out how to stop me from leaving, if you put your two brain cells together.”
“That’s not the kind of language you should be usin’ with me, is it?” This question was just as mocking as his last, salt that was only ground deeper into your wounds as Atsumu took a step closer, then another, leaving the door ajar behind him. You considered trying to run, trying to push past him and see if you’d be able to make it further than the threshold, but just as your feet began to twitch, his fist was closing around your collar and he was dragging you to the edge of your bed, posing you to face him as he scanned over your form, his smirk dropping into a sneer as he evaluated what Osamu had dressed you in, what Osamu had done to you. Still, you couldn’t tell what bothered him more - the faded bruises encircling your wrists and the bandages plastered to your sides from his last punishment, or the monstrous, lacy things Osamu preferred to dress you in. “What’s he doin’ to you, baby? No wonder ‘samu wanted me to drop off some of your stuff, I’d kill him for makin’ me wear--”
“What do you mean he wanted you to? How did you know where I am?”
Atsumu’s eyes widened, his nails digging into the thin fabric. Instantly, you knew you shouldn’t have spoken.
“He hasn’t told you.” There was a laugh, breathy and amazed and disbelieving, as if there was some great, astounding, wonderful secret Osamu was supposed to share with you and hadn’t. In the blink of an eye, he’d let go of your collar, but the liberation was fleeting. Instead, his fingers were quick to tangle themselves in your hair, jerking you upward as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his grin pressing against your skin, not doing any harm but sending a reflexive, frigid jolt of panic down the length of your spine. You tried to push him away, shoving at his chest and attempting to put the smallest amount of distance between your body and his, but Atsumu was more than happy to drag you closer, to hold you tighter. “He hasn’t told you anything. Damn, and I was startin’ to think I was the mean one.” Another laugh, a chuckle this time. “He tried to make himself sound like a real hero, right? Such a good guy, taking in a stray from evil, clumsy Atsumu? How long did it take you to realize he was just as fucked up as your old-guy?”
You shook your head, but the sense of betrayal was numb, dull, a well-used blade struggling to find its way to your heart. Osamu hadn’t lied, or… he hadn’t lied for very long, at least. He’d made it sound like he’d gotten lucky. You’d just chosen the wrong place to go, the wrong pair of arms to run into. If this was supposed to happen, if they’d wanted this to happen, that would mean he knew what Atsumu was doing and he hadn’t…
You didn’t think you liked what that would mean.
You opened your mouth, ready to deny it, but before you could get a word out, Atsumu was being dragged away from you, revealing Osamu standing behind him, all tension and sharp frowns and narrow glares at his brother and at you, more the former than the latter. You forced yourself to relax, to fold your hands in your lap and take on the softened, fragile posture Osamu was so adamant that you maintain, but obedience did little to save you from the harshness in his voice, as he spoke. “I told you to stay out,” He grunted, ignoring you in favor of reprimanding Atsumu. “(Y/n) ain’t yours, right now. You have to wait your turn if you wanna play with ‘em.” 
“So cold, ‘samu. What I’d do to get on your bad side?” In an instant, Atsumu was all high-pitched whines and dramatic pouts, making a point of rubbing at the back of his neck and turning his back to you, his obsession seemingly forgotten at the hint of something more interesting to do. “I’m just makin’ sure our baby knows what’s goin’ on. It’d be a shame if someone left ‘em in the dark, wouldn’t it?”
Osamu moved to answer, but you were faster, this time. “Is it true, Osamu?” You asked, the words hardly loud enough to be audible. “Did you... did you know?” 
For a second, he met your eyes, and something almost apologetic flashed across his expression. 
You might’ve been able to believe it was, if he wasn’t so quick to turn away. 
“Get out.” If he was growling before, he was seething now, his shoulders squaring as he cocked his head towards the door, his hands balling into fists at his sides so tightly, you had to wonder if he’d manage to draw blood. “You’ve already done enough damage. I don’t need you going around, saying that kinda shit and puttin’ more ideas into their head. Get out before I throw you out.” 
Atsumu just shrugged, only slapping his brother’s back as he passed by, making no move to argue, to stay, to take you back. It seemed like he wasn’t going to acknowledge your presence at all until he reached the door, pausing for a little too long as he threw an idle, careless smirk over his shoulder. As consceded as it was crushing. 
“I’ll see you in a few weeks, angelface.” 
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random-imagines-blog · 4 years ago
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This Could Be Anywhere in the World {Ygritte x Reader}
Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2068 Summary: Travels across the wildlands make you hungry ... and tired.
Your hold on Ygritte’s mittened hand was as tight as it could be with such thick fabric separating skin. But you knew that if actually had flesh touching flesh up here, beyond the wall, you might actually freeze together. And as much as you loved her and wanted to be around her for the rest of your life, being conjoined like that was not the ideal. “We should be making camp soon,” You said, noticing how it was starting to grow dark. The stars above were starting to make themselves known, twinkling in the sky. Living life as a nomad, home was wherever you decided to set up camp, and you were just about ready to head home now. “There’s a spot right over there, nice and sheltered, see?” You pointed towards a rock formation which looked to be natural rather than man-made. Ygritte nodded in agreement.
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Ygritte worked on the tent while you worked on getting a fire going. You had a couple of hares that you had been hunting along the way that you were ready to put over the flames. Your stomach was growling intensely from all of the walking and the lack of nourishment. “I can hear that from all the way over here!”Ygritte called from where she was setting up the furs that would be your slelter for the night. They were just to keep away the cold winds. They did nothing against the temperature. But that’s what snuggling together for body heat was for. You laughed at her, picking up a small pile of snow, formed it into a ball and threw it at her. It caught her by surprise, hitting her square in the back. You were surprised she was even able to feel it given how thick her coat was. She let out a squeal, turning around to look at you with shock and dismay. “Did you just throw a snowball at me?” She asked.
“Maybe!” You grinned. “That’s what you get for making fun of my poor stomach. It just likes to sing sometimes. You should feel honored that it decided to do so in your presence!”
“You’re so weird,” Ygritte muttered, going back to work. And you went back to the fire, striking flint against rock over some wood that you had collected on the way, until a spark started to form. You blew on it gently, and it finally took to being flame, moving to the other branches and creating a fire. You stood up, ready to celebrate your victory by skinning those hares and getting the meat over the fire when something hit the back of your head. You gasped, and turned around to see Ygritte wiping snow off of her hands. She looked very satisfied with herself.
“Now what was that one for?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. She had the shelter set up now, though it waved a little in the wind. That was the best that one could do out here sometimes. She saw the look in your eye, the one that usually meant that she was going to be getting tackled into the snow.She hurried into the shelter, poking her head out from beneath the flaps, watching your every move. You got up slowly, letting the carcasses fall from your grip onto the ground. Then raced into the shelter to get at her.
The snow had been trampled so instead of being ankle high, it was under your boots. She laughed her snort-like laugh as you pushed her down, getting on top of her, grin overtaking your face. She batted at you with her arms, usually very strong, but no match for you, especially while they were shaking with her laughter. “Stop, gerrof mee-” She said, as you took a handful of snow and started to sprinkle it onto her face. “Nooooo!”
“You gonna say mercy?” You asked.
“You’re the one who started it!”
“You made fun of my stomach growling!”
“That ain’t my fault! It was asking for it!”  
“You’re asking for it!”
“Okay, okay, mercy, mercy!” Ygritte said, and you let the rest of the snow drop down beside her. Her nose was now a bright pink color from the cold, and it was rather becoming on her. Along with the red cheeks. Her hair was sticking to her wet forehead, and she pushed it out of the way using the back of her mitten. You chuckled and rolled off of her, and the both of you got back up onto your feet. You brushed snow off of her back where it had gathered between the bristly furs.
“Did  ya get the meat started yet?” She asked. “I’m starvin.”
“Well I would have if you weren’t so damn distracting!” You said, leaving the shelter to see that the fire had nearly gone out. A few more twigs and another strike of flint and you had it going again. You sat your butt down on the snowy ground, and started to tear the fur off of your prey, saving as much as you could so you could make a hat or something. Waste not want not.
There was a quiet save for the crackling of the fire whenever it reached a wet spot on the wood. It sent out little sparks, and quite a bit of smoke. That would keep animals away, but would alert any other people to your presence. There wasn’t much that you could do about that at the moment. You shoved the carcasses onto some of Ygritte’s arrows and held it over the flames, turning it slowly to let the meat cook evenly. Just because it wasn’t a feast didn’t mean it would be bad. “Could do with a little salt,” You said into the night. “It’s been forever since we’ve had anything good to season the meat with. Oh gods, and now I’m thinking about potatoes. Do you remember potatoes?” Your mouth was watering just thinking about it.
“Barely,” Ygritte said, sadly. “I remember carrots though. Everyone called me that for a while. Cause of the hair,” She went from sad to bitter. You tried not to laugh, you really did. But now you were just thinking about her having carrots instead of hair. The cold and the hunger were driving you crazy. That would be your excuse. She shoved at you and you nearly dropped the meat but managed to keep your hold on it.
“Watch it! This is all we’ve got, and it’s way too dark to go hunting again tonight,” You said. You pulled it off of the flame and took a look. Almost done. You put it back on just to make sure that it was all cooked down to the middle. Getting food poisoning and having it run out of both ends while on a skirmish like this was not fun at all. You gave her the first one though, handing her the arrow. “Go on, you deserve it for setting up the shelter.”
She took it without argument. She greedily bit into it, the small amount of juices running down her chin, only for her to remove one of her mittens, wipe it off, then lick it off of her fingers. It was always amusing watching her eat. It was like watching an animal finally take down it’s meal. You had to take your eyes off of her to skin the next hare, and roast it over the fire for yourself. The smell of yours combined with what Ygritte hadn’t chopped down yet made your stomach grow excited. You could have sworn it was doing flips in there, like the entertainers you heard about, doing fancy feasts and things.
When it was done, you finally ate. It wasn’t enough to fill you, but it was hard to feel full out here where food is scarce. It was just enough, though, for your stomach to feel calmer. For you to feel a bit warmer from the inside out. You laid back against the snow, looking upwards at what stars you could make out through the smoke. Ygritte laid back with you.
“Why do I always find myself on my back around yeh?” She asked, making you laugh and nudge her with your elbow.
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“Cause you’re so annoyin, I always have to push you over.” You joked. “Though I guess you found yourself annoying enough this time, you went and did it all on your own.”
“Pushed yourself down first,” She pointed out, making you stop laughing. You sighed contently though, ready for a rest after all of the walking and the eating that you had just done. But you were just a bit too lazy to get yourself over to the shelter. The wind had died down somewhat so you were comfortable. “Do yeh think it will ever stop snowing?”
“Nah. You know how the Gods like to keep us miserable. All this free and wild land but can’t grow shit on it. Makin’ a home is almost impossible because the strong winds blow everything down. Can’t even have a family cause the elements take em from yeh”
Ygritte hummed by you. “It’s no’ so bad. It ain’t fancy dresses and eating at tables but we’re tougher than they could ever be.”
“Is it better to be tough than happy?” You asked. And then found yourself laughing again spite yourself. “I should get some sleep. I think too much when I’m tired.”
“Yeah, you get weird,” Ygritte said, sitting back up. She warmed her hands by the fire, which was starting to die out due to lack of attention. “Shelter’s all ready. We should move on early tomorrow.”
“Yeah, probably.” You said, getting up. You kicked a bit of snow over the fire to stop the smoke, stop any people from coming along, and went into the shelter. It was pitch back in there once you were surrounded by the furs. But it was warm. It was sheltered against any wind that might come, and bring torrents of snow with it. Always a risk this far north.
But you didn’t lay down right away. Just sat back against the rock. It was cool, but it was a nice sort of cool. It felt good against the back of your neck after you had removed your hood, scrunching it up so you could use it as a pillow after lying down. Ygritte sat beside you. You noticed that she had been staying particularly close lately, and it didn’t just feel like a safety in numbers thing. This girl had the habit of making your heart beat fast.
“What are you starin at me for?” She asked, accent thick but muffled by her scarf.
“You’ve still got snow on ye,” You said quickly, and patted the back of her jacket though there was nothing there. “How am I supposed to get some sleep if ye keep chatting my ear off?”
“How am I supposed to get some sleep if ye keep staring at me?” Ygritte retorted. She huffed, reached around you to put one hand on the side of your head, and made you lean down to be on her shoulder. The bristles of the fur smelt like smoke and snow, a comforting combination since those really were the only two smells up here in the north. Those and death. You nuzzled in to get some more warmth, making the redhead squirm a little. Her movements just made you all the more comfortable. “Now will ye close your damn eyes? We got an early morning.”
“Yeah, yeah,” You muttered, and allowed your heavy eyelids to close. You could feel her faintly moving with her breathing, her shoulders rising up and then down very slowly. Her breathing evened out. And then came the snores. The noise made you smile because it was such a Ygritte noise to make. Even in her sleep she was far from delicate and ladylike. And that’s what you loved about her.
You finally started to drift off, finding comfort and familiarity in the person beside you rather than your surroundings. As long as you were with her - this spot, the best one you could imagine - could be anywhere in the world.
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cellard0ors · 4 years ago
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WHELP.
No one hated this. so, it's continuing. I have no title as of yet. Still dedicated to @lallyloo
Part 1 here
Rhett used to live closer.
Now he doesn’t.
Link knows there are a variety of factors that went into the move, and he respects them. Still, it was nice before - when he didn’t have to travel so far. Now here he is, driving out into the middle of nowhere to see someone who used to be a short distance away.
Everything used to be…closer.
Sometimes Link looks back, riffles through his memories and it’s almost painful. It’s not that the memories are bad per say, it’s more how they feel. So close and so far – recent, yet ages ago. It’s an uncomfortable dichotomy, so he does his best to just concentrate on the present.
And, presently, he’s pulling up to a tiny little cabin surrounded by towering California redwoods. His car crunches loudly over the gravel drive - loud enough to summon his friend, even if his hearing’s declining. Although - to be fair, Link’s hearing is not the greatest either.
Hearing, sight, the combined ache of your muscles and bones - yeah, getting older is a real bitch. Not a word Link likes to say, much less think, but facts are facts. Age isn’t pretty, albeit there are some advantages. One of which being that you can pretty much go and do whatever you please, whenever you please.
Especially if you made a rather lucrative creative endeavor at one point. Mythical Morning may be gone, but the capital earned is doing its job of keeping him cushy in his golden years. Rhett as well, who certainly couldn’t have afforded this place otherwise and as he emerges from his home he offers a wave.
Link returns it, but finds he has to fight off a scowl. Really, it’s not fair. Link went silver early and he always thought he looked pretty damned handsome with it- a total silver fox.
But Rhett?
Well, Rhett always did have a history of beating him.
He might have gone silver later, but damned if he doesn’t wear it better. His beard is neatly trimmed, long hair tied back and he looks like some kind of rugged highlander cowboy combo that could get away with being on the cover of one of those old romance novels Christy used to thumb through.
…terrible…
A man his age shouldn’t look so good.
Rhett shouldn’t look so good.
And considering what Link’s come here to talk about he really doesn’t want to think about that right now.
Focus on the present, Neal, he reminds himself, shaking his head while he parks. When he gets out Rhett charges up, one hand out for a shake, which Link takes and then the two share a brief, back slapping hug.
“How ya been, brother?”
“Told you last night - tired and tired of being tired. You?”
“Same,” Rhett chuckles, “but figured if you were makin’ the drive up here, there might be more to say.”
There is, but Link’s not ready for it, instead clearing his throat while moving towards the two rocking chairs near the porch, “Mind if I-?”
“Help yourself,” Rhett says with an expansive gesture and the two end up seated and looking out over the wilderness. Link’s been here before. They’ve done this before. Just sat in these chairs and shot the shit. But today, Link finds himself a little more riled than usual, a little stiffer, and Rhett must pick up on it, because he sighs, “You might as well spit it out.”
“Spit what out?”
“Whatever it is you’re trying to avoid, bo,” Rhett says and he’s got a cooler of sprite nearby. He grabs a can and cracks it open, taking a swig before continuing, “We can sit here and waste time until you work up the nerve or-”
“I have the nerve!” Link cries but Rhett just goes on as if he hasn’t been interrupted, “-you can just spill. Probably feel better after.”
“Doubt that,” Link grouses and reaches into the cooler to get his own drink. Because Rhett managed to call him out so smoothly, so quickly, he decides to take his time on purpose. What was it Lily said? Be ‘deliberately obtuse’? It’s not quite what he’s doing now, but close enough.
Rhett, unbothered by Link’s act of defiance, merely sips his can and rests in his chair - annoyingly regal and relaxed. Sometimes Link really hates him. But it’s the kind of hate that’s so tangled up with affection that it’s irritating beyond measure, so he just stews over his own soda and waits.
For the longest time, it feels like neither will break the silence, but - considering Link came here to see Rhett and not the other way around - he decides (very graciously, he might add) to bend first, “Is it ever hard on you?”
One of Rhett’s eyebrows wing upwards, “Is what ever hard on me?”
Link shifts about, suddenly wishing these wooden chairs had some cushion, “The whole,” he waves a hand around them, “lonely woodsman thing?”
“…you think I’m lonely?”
“Well, I mean…” Link feels very tongue tied and very stupid and he doesn’t want to somehow inadvertently insult or hurt his friend, “Do you-? Do you ever think about how-how things changed?”
Rhett shrugs easily, “Things change, Link. That’s just life. Nature.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Link grumbles, “But I mean-? I’m more like-?” he growls under his breath because he’s annoyed that he can’t articulate his thoughts easily, “You and Jessie…”
“What about me and Jessie?”
“I mean…you were married…”
“We were?” Rhett asks the last as if it’s a hugely shocking revelation and Link hopes his expression manages to convey how he feels about that kind of response, “Yes. You and Jessie were married and then, y'know, um, you-you weren’t and I-I guess I just wondered if-if-?”
Rhett takes a deep pull on his sprite before sighing, “Are you asking if I’m lonely without Jessie?”
“Uh…sort of? Or, I mean, more-more directly - did you ever think this…this is how it would end up.”
“Gosh, no,” Rhett laughs and the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way that always makes Link’s heart twirl a little, “No, I sure didn’t. But; mean, ’s like I said, things change. So do people. Jessie and I loved one another, but,” he shrugs again, “Kids grew up, moved out, and when it was just me and her we’d found things’d changed.”
“But…” Link sounds sort of lost, “How?”
Rhett’s narrows his eyes at him, “Man, you know how. We’ve talked about this! She and I were just…different people than we used to be. Different from who we were when we got married and all. It wasn’t bad - we still loved one another. But there just…”
He rolls his shoulders and sighs again, one big hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “Wasn’t that spark anymore. I love her. Still do. Heck, we still talk - just spoke to her last week! But being in love with her?”
The last is asked in a way that pretty much answers itself. Link gets it. He does understand it. And as Rhett said – they’ve talked about this before. Back when it first happened, even. Link knows the story. He knows it and he knows it and yet…
“I guess, I’m…well, I’m-I’m just asking because you-you live up here all by yourself and I…I live by myself and…”
Rhett’s heavy lidded eyes take on this sad, soulful look, one that makes Link’s throat close up around his words, “That what this really about, brother? You thinkin’ about Christy again? You really the lonely one?”
“Yes,” Link blurts and, sort of horrified that he did, rushes on, “And no. No, mean…this-this isn’t about Christy…this-this is about Lily.”
Rhett’s eyes widen and his head rears back, the confusion on his face paramount, “Okay, alright then - color me perplexed, 'cause I don’t see how my being lonely and then your being lonely has anything to do with your daughter.”
“Lily thinks we should go out!” Link squeaks loudly and hoo boy! Bad enough the words came out in that sharp of a tone, but he also Did. Not. Mean. To. Say. Them!
He was planning on working into it in a far more casual manner. Maybe even jokingly. Like, 'Hey, my daughter thinks we should go out! Isn’t that a laugh riot?’ Or 'So, my children are conspiring against us!’ Or really anything - any way - different than how it came out just now.
Rhett, for his part, doesn’t seem all that rocked by this announcement, “Oh. Um. Alright. Sounds good.”
“Sounds good?!” And wow. Just wow. Link thought he sounded squeaky and loud before. That came out even worse. Mickey-Mouse-sucked-on-helium-and-went-hysterical worse. Rhett must have misunderstood, right? Right?!
As if sensing the question, Rhett finishes off his sprite and tosses the can in a nearby trash can, “Sure. We can go out. Where you wanna go? Wouldn’t mind takin’ a trip. Been an age since we done it.”
His reply confirms Link’s thinking and he deflates, but only a smidge, because he now knows he still has to explain, “No, no, no. I-I mean she wants us to go out. As-as in out out.”
Watching the realization dawn on Rhett’s face should be funny. It really should. More so when he asks in a higher tenor, “Out out as in-?”
“As in a date, man. My little girl thinks we should date,” Link wants to make this into a joke. He feels like he should be able to do that. He knows he should. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? One big joke and he tries to laugh but the sound comes out so false and weird he stops it immediately, instead pressing on, “Rest of my kids too. She was just…just the one elected to bring it up or-or something…”
Rhett sits up straighter and crosses his arms. His eyes dart from side to side and he looks like he’s thinking so danged hard about this. Way harder than Link thinks he should.
“Let me get this straight: your kids,” Rhett points to Link, “think we,” he waves a finger between the two of them, “should go out with one another?”
“Yes.”
Rhett blinks several times as if he’s physically processing this. His mind a computer pushing through a big old file of data. Which is probably why he offers an indelicate, “Huh.”
“Right?!” Link cries, because he feels like Rhett understands. Rhett gets Link. Rhett knows exactly how Link thinks and feels and Rhett gets this situation, Link’s situation, perfectly.
“My kids pushed me back into datin’ long before yours did.”
…and this was not the response Link expected. He’d expected laughter. He’d expected an eyeroll. He’d expected anything but Rhett to say what he just said and thus his response is less than elegant, “Eh?”
“Locke and Shepard got on me 'bout dating only a year or two after the deal with Jessie was finalized. Think they were worried I’d become some ol’ hermit in the woods…” the last comes out in a bit of a chuckle as Rhett looks around them, “Can you believe that?”
Link can’t help but join him in chuckling on that front. Once the laughter dies down, Rhett sits up, threading his fingers together before letting his hands hang down between his knees, “Told ‘em I didn’t need it. You reach a certain age and you don’t date anymore.”
“That’s what I told, Lily!” Link crows; overjoyed that his pal is in agreement.
One slender shoulder rises and falls in an easy motion as he confesses, “Not that I haven’t been out though.”
This draws Link up short. It startles him. It makes him sit up as well, his own hands mirroring Rhett’s and one of his legs starts jiggling restlessly, “Y-Y-you’ve been-? Been seeing someone?”
“Nah,” Rhett offers a lazy grin, “Not seriously. Seen a coupla different folks, but no one I’d care to see again.”
So.
Rhett had…or is…dating. Sure, he doesn’t call it dating, but still…the omission trips Link up. For some reason, he’d just believed both he and Rhett were in the same boat. Sure, Rhett was divorced, not widowed, but Link had felt – in some way – that it held the same sort of principle.
You chose someone to spend the rest of your life with and when their life or your life ended, that was that. There was nothing else, no one, else. And he’s aware how immature that is, how backwards-thinking, but it just…it’s what he always thought. Until now. Until this very moment where Rhett revealed that it’s not that way at all.
At least not for him.
Rhett…seeing people…with-with potential romantic intent…
For some reason it just doesn’t compute and now Link knows he’s the one blinking madly as he tries to process this. One reason it’s hard to swallow comes to mind, so he asks, "You-you never mentioned…?”
“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell.”
“You’re telling me right now!” And there’s that hysteric tone again.
“Not givin’ you names, now am I?”
Link feels the sound of sheer disgruntled aggravation that leaves him right now really nails his feelings home. Rhett, however, is unmoved, “Gotta say though, Lily is way off base…”
Link’s hands unhook as he practically melts. A wave of relief washes over him, his whole body falling back to rest against the chair, “Finally!”
“…we already know one another.”
Link’s head snaps back up so quickly it defies his advanced age, “What?”
“Well, not only are we well past the age of dating, dating in and of itself is for people who don’t know one another,” Rhett returns candidly, “We’ve known one another damn near all our lives. So, telling us we should date isn’t quite right. If we went out, it’d probably be called something else.”
“What?!”
Rhett strokes at his beard thoughtfully, “Wonder if there’s a name for that? People who’ve known one another for a long time, but then decide to bump it up a notch. Mean, it’s probably still just called 'dating’, but I really think they should come up with another word for it, because they’re making up new words all the time for all kinds of things so, you think there’d be one for that.”
“WHAT?!”
Rhett looks at Link and he edges closer to him, voice colored with concern, “You alright there? Thought I was the one with the bad hearing. My hearing aids really help, so if you think your ears are starting to go you can ask your doc about-?”
“My hearing is fine,” Link stresses, “But I’m not sure about everything else, because, apparently, I’ve woken up in some alternate universe!”
“…well, we did used to say we traveled the multiverse.”
“Can it, McLachlin!” Link points at him, tone sharp, “You’re the one who said it wasn’t a question you needed to answer!”
“…a question-?”
“Back on the show!” Link cries, “One time you said you didn’t need to answer the question of what it’d be like if we kissed or made out or-!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Rhett laughs and waves both of his hands, “Look…first off - for the most part - you’ve always had a better memory’n me. Even back before we were old coots. Second, pretty presumptions of you, ain’t it?”
Link frowns, waits for Rhett to continue the thought and when he does, it takes all the strength Link has within in his body not to strangle the other man, “Mean – you jumping right into kissing and making out…haven’t even taken me out proper yet. If you want to start courting me…”
“I don’t!” Link practically leaps to his feet at that. A rather impressive feat considering his body doesn’t move with near the alacrity it used to, “I-I-I mean, I’m-I’m not-!”
“No?” Rhett sniffs, “Rude.”
“What?” And Link hates repeating himself, hates sounding so stupefied but honestly: what the heck? “Do you want me to be courting you? To take you out out? To date?”
Rhett looks far too damned tranquil for this conversation, “Just because a long time ago I said I didn’t need to answer the question to that, don’t mean I’m not pondering it now.”
And with that, Link dies.
Or he feels like he dies.
Or something else.
Something transcendent. Something where he really has confirmed that, somehow, the planets have shifted, the stars have aligned, and he’s been transported to another universe, because he couldn’t have possibly heard that right.
Yet he knows he did.
Link feels lightheaded. He feels like he’s outside of his body, his voice coming back to him in an echo, lips moving unbidden, “But-? You’re-you’re not-? You’ve-you’ve never been interested in-?”
Another easy shrug, “Not sure if I’m interested in men. But I sure as shit am interested in you. Always have been.”
Link really thinks he should sit back down. Sit back down or fall down. Just…down…
His hands feels shaky and wild as they find the arms of the chair, as he lowers himself back into, as he breathes, “You’re interested in-in-in-?”
Link’s head moves around as if looking for someone else, because saying ‘in me’ (and the ‘me’ being Link himself) doesn’t seem at all possible.
Rhett, seeming to finally take pity on him, sighs, “When I say ‘I’m interested in you’, I’m not declaring some secret, unrequited, suppressed feelings for you, man. I’m saying you’re my friend, I find you interesting, and I ain’t entirely opposed to seeing if there could be more to it,” he unlaces his fingers to wave between them, “To us,” then he changes one of his hands into the two fingers to motion between their eyes, “To this.”
“…this…” is all Link can manage. It comes out faint and whispery. He’s still pretty convinced he died. Probably happened on the ride here. Damn twisty backroads.
“…’course if you’re not interested,” Rhett sucks his teeth, “Or chicken…”
Link snaps back to life right quick. He’s alive. He’s alive and in his body and his ears are burning, his heart pounding, his cheeks bright red as his blood pressure rises, “I’m not chicken!”
Rhett just eyes him balefully and-and the utter gall of it! Of those eyes looking at him in this fashion and Link puffs up, “I’m not! I’M a modern man, dang it! I-I’m not afraid to-to-!”
He runs a hand through his thick (now completely) silver hair and tugs it hard, “It’s just-? It’s crazy! It’s insane! It’s-it’s-it’s-!”
He’s stuttering all over himself, all the things he wants to say not coming out of his mouth quickly enough and he just points at Rhett accusingly, “It’ll ruin our friendship and be all kindas awkward and-!”
Rhett leans back in his chair, crosses his arms again and stretches out his ridiculously long, giraffe-like legs, “You know…we drank one another’s urine.”
Link stalls at that.
“Once upon a time.”
Link is still stopped. Enough that Rhett just breathes in and looks off to one side, “Messed around with one another’s feet. Did Mama Bird/Baby Bird. Cuddled with cockroaches.”
“Thought you said I had the better memory.”
“’Bout some things,” Rhett offers with a small grin, “My point is – we’ve done much crazier things. Only difference this time would be that it’s personal and it’s not for an audience.”
Link digests that, chews on it. He rolls it over and over again in his mind. Rhett seems to be waiting for him to answer – one way or another and when it becomes obvious that no real answer is forth coming, he lets out another sigh and rises up, wincing some.
Link would bet it’s due to his lower back twinging, because sitting long periods of time now just does that to him. Link knows, because it does it to him too.
Rhett puts his hands in his pockets and offers another blithe shrug, “Look, don’t worry about it. I don’t blame you if you’re-”
“Okay.”
Link’s eyes are downcast. They went in that direction when he knew his final answer. He wants to raise his head. He wants to know who said it, that quiet word. So quiet as to almost be inaudible.
And shy.
Quiet, shy…unreal.
And he knows he said it. Knows it came from his mouth. And he feels it when Rhett gets closer to him, feels the heat of his friend and he can just make him out of his peripheral vision as he repeats just as quietly, just as shy, “Okay?”
Link licks his lips and looks up. He looks up into his friend’s kind eyes and feels his head wobbling on his neck as he nods, “Okay. Yeah. I…I guess it’s…it’s worth trying…”
“So,” Rhett’s lips tug up in one corner, a teasing sort of smirk, “You are courting me?”
Link shoves out at him and the two laugh. But the fact still remains. Link has just agreed to go out with Rhett. Out out. As in a date, as in…
…and Link knows, eventually, the panic will return. But for now? For now, it’s nice to just be with his friend and laugh.
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eredins-a-king-aint-he · 3 years ago
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@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​ fill for “hiding in the same hiding spot”

Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Viper’s Hands

Relationship: Lambert/Letho z Gulety | Letho of Gulet 

Rating: E (Explicit)
Content warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Finger Sucking, Semi-Public Hand Job, Dirty Talk, Frottage

Summary: Lambert needs a place to hide, but finds that the nearest spot is already taken. 
Fic on Ao3
      “Get back here, you fucker!” 
      At the sound of the yell, Lambert is already on his feet and running. He had hoped that visiting a bar all the way across the city would help him avoid the owner of that particular voice, but it seems that luck is not with him today. It usually isn’t. His one blessing is that he’s fast.
      He’s out of the bar and around the corner in the blink of an eye. If he’d had his friends with him, he might’ve tried to make a stand, but he’d come out alone, and if he wasn’t careful he might end up in the gutter alone. He makes a quick turn, then sprints down the street and makes another. It’s late enough that the streets are fairly empty, which is another stroke of bad luck.
      I guess I’ll have to find somewhere to hide, he thinks, his lungs beginning to burn. A moment later, he spots a dingy alleyway.
     Good enough. He jogs between the buildings, his mind whirring. It’s definitely not the best place to hide, there’s nothing but a few dumpsters—
      A hand, an enormous hand, shoots out from behind the dumpsters and grabs him, dragging him swiftly down behind the big plastic cans. He opens his mouth to yell, but another large hand clamps over his face, barely leaving his nose uncovered so he can breathe. When he tries to struggle in his weirdly crouched position, his captor pulls him back between large thighs and against a huge, very warm body.
      “Shut up,” a deep, gravelly voice whispers, “or we’re both gonna be in trouble.”
      Lambert freezes. He recognizes the voice. In his memory, it belongs to an acquaintance of one of his friends, a goliath of a man who never seemed to talk much. 
      The hand over his mouth doesn’t relax when he stops fighting it, nor does the arm holding him against the other man’s front, in fact they tighten. He is completely immobile, settled between a pair of meaty thighs and pressed tight to the solid heat behind him, and—
      Fucking hell, not now—
      But of course his stupid body doesn’t care how badly he might get the shit kicked out of him if those men find him, it has a mind of its own. Being held like this, a hand over his mouth, an arm wrapped tightly around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides, it does something to him. Heat spreads through him, rising up his neck into his cheeks and sinking into his lower belly. His legs begin to tremble, threatening to let him drop onto the concrete below.
      Hot breath gusts against his ear, and he barely manages to hold back a moan, wiggling slightly against the grip around his waist.
      “Shh,” his captor hisses. “They’re still close.”
      A moment later, Lambert hears voices pass by. They seem to pause for a moment, then they move away, and the only noise that remains is the frantic thumping of his own heart in his ears. His body is thrumming with adrenaline and arousal, drawn as tight as a wire. He’s also hard as a rock.
      After another minute, the man holding him loosens the hand over the lower half of Lambert's face.
      “Lambert, right?” he growls. “Seen you with Geralt and Eskel sometimes. Figured I should help out when you ran up like a little bunny rabbit, lookin’ all scared.”
      Lambert opens his mouth to reply, but a soft gasp escapes his lips instead. Heat floods his face, this time from embarrassment. 
      “I wasn’t fucking scared,” he snarls quietly, keeping his voice soft in case his pursuers decide to return. “I was just looking for a place to squat so I could wait them out, but I didn’t realize this spot was fucking taken.”
      The man behind him chuckles, and fuck if it doesn’t feel good to have the sound roll through his body like a wave. Lambert bites his lip. He wonders whether or not he should mention that the man— Letho, he suddenly remembers— is still holding him, one arm wrapped around his waist. Letho seems to be thinking the same thing, as he says,
      “Surprised you haven’t pushed me off yet.”
      His mouth is still barely inches away from the back of Lambert’s neck, and his breath sends goosebumps across Lambert’s skin.
      “My legs are asleep,” Lambert retorts, blushing. “I don’t wanna pitch forward into the dumpsters and wake the entire damn neighborhood.”
      In this position, nestled firmly between the big man’s thighs, Lambert suddenly notices that he can feel something hard pressing against his ass.
      Fucking hell, he thinks wildly. He’s into it too. …This is a terrible idea. 
      He shifts a little, trying to very subtly grind against the hard length behind him, and he hears the big man’s breath hitch. 
      “You doin’ that on purpose?”
      The growl is low and dangerous and right next to his ear and Lambert nearly moans out loud. 
      “What if I am?” he manages between clenched teeth. His cock is straining against his jeans at this point, aching to be let free. 
      “If you aren’t, gonna help you up,” Letho says softly. “If you are…” 
      “Yeah? Then fucking what? What are you gonna do?”
      The aggression of the challenge is diminished by the fact that Lambert is nearly panting now, desperate to either be touched or to quickly find a place where he can touch himself. The arm around his waist tenses.
      “If you are, we might as well do somethin’ about it,” is the slow reply. “How about you give me a good old-fashioned go ahead instead of makin’ me guess.” 
      Lambert groans.
      “Fucking… Yes,” he finally grunts.
      “That’s a good little bunny,” Letho murmurs into his ear, and Lambert melts. The grip on his waist loosens, then huge hands are deftly undoing his belt and his fly. When a warm, soft palm finally wraps around his aching cock, Lambert is ready to explode.
      “Guess you like bein’ held and gagged,” Letho comments, and when Lambert takes a breath to make a snappy reply, the big man thrusts two thick fingers into his open mouth.
      “Quiet,” he says. “Or do you wanna be found like this?”
      Lambert tries to make an indignant noise, but the sound is depressingly muffled, so he closes his lips around the fingers instead. Determined to not be completely beaten, he begins to suck, using his tongue against the sensitive undersides of the fingers, and is rewarded with a soft growl beside his ear. The fingers pull out of his mouth.
      “Spit,” is the quiet command, and Lambert does as he’s told without thought, spitting into the offered hand. Seconds later the fingers slide back into his mouth as the other hand slicks against his erection. He moans.
      “More suckin’, less noise,” Letho grunts. “Show me what that foul mouth of yours can do.”
      That’s a challenge Lambert can get behind. The hand around his cock pumps slowly as he does his best to tease Letho into moving faster. It works, the grip around him tightening, the hand picking up speed. Pleasure starts to rush into his core with every stroke, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. His breath begins to burn in his chest, light sparking behind his eyes. His legs tremble.
      “You gonna cum?” 
      He nods frantically, feeling his muscles tightening like a spring, then Letho’s hand clamps over his mouth again.
      “You strike me as a screamer,” Letho murmurs into his ear. “Let’s not wake up the ‘entire damn neighborhood.’”
      He’s right, but Lambert would never willingly admit it. Instead he lets go, surrendering to release with a muffled cry, his body shaking with the force of the climax. Letho waits for him to ride the wave to completion, then slowly uncovers his mouth.
      “Hot,” the big man says. Panting, Lambert leans back against the solid warmth for a moment, then reaches down and shoves his sticky, softening cock back into his pants. 
      “Want a drink?” he manages between breaths. “Might as well thank you for— Uh, yeah. Everything.”
      Letho chuckles.
      “Wouldn’t mind, little bunny. Watching you cum like that made me thirsty.”
      The words make Lambert shiver, and he tries to stand up. 
      “I’m stuck,” he finally admits, then suddenly he’s rising into the air, a hand under each armpit. 
      “Let’s go,” Letho says, sounding amused. “Lead the way.”
      Though his legs are a little unsteady, Lambert can still walk, so he heads toward the street and steps out into the open.
      “There he is!”
       Lambert whips around and sees two men advancing on him. His muscles twitch, ready to spring into action, but then someone walks up behind him, casting a much longer shadow than his.
      “Ah,” Letho says. “How’d you manage to piss these guys off?”
      “Long story,” Lambert replies. 
      The two men had frozen when Letho appeared. They seem to be debating whether or not they should back down, then one of them steps forward.
      “Boss says you gotta pay,” he snarls at Lambert. “Don’t care if you’ve found yourself a meat shield in the dumpsters.” 
      Lambert begins to make a snarky retort, but Letho is quicker. He moves so fast Lambert can hardly follow what is happening, and a moment later the man who had spoken is lying flat on his back on the sidewalk, out cold, while his companion sprints away.
      “Now that,” Lambert says, “is hot. Come on, let’s get out of here before they find backup.”
      He begins to jog off in the other direction, and Letho catches up to him easily. 
      “They’ll be after you too, now,” Lambert says conversationally. “And they’re fucking persistent.”
      “Me and my boys will take care of them,” Letho replies, sounding completely unconcerned. Casting a sideways glance at him as they jog, Lambert gets a better look than he had before in the darkness of the alley. 
      He looks like someone I would not want to fuck with, Lambert decides. Those tattoos must have cost him a fortune. How have I never noticed them before?
      Dark designs cover the entirety of the man’s hands and arms, as well as the bare skin of his neck. Lambert finds himself distractedly wondering where else the man has ink, and he nearly trips. A hand closes around his arm like an iron shackle, steadying him.
      “Careful there, bunny,” Letho says with a grin. “Wouldn’t want you getting too friendly with the sidewalk.”
      The grip around his bicep is very distracting. 
      “I don’t plan to get too friendly with anything,” Lambert says irritably. “Not unless you wanna help me get real friendly with a wall.”
      “You askin’ me what I think you’re askin’ me?”
      “I might be.”
      And suddenly Lambert finds himself crushed face-first against the nearby wall, gently enough so it doesn’t hurt him but swiftly enough to leave him breathless. Letho’s body holds him firmly against the bricks, hot and huge and—
      Fuck, Lambert thinks, his mind swamped with arousal. He’s not used to feeling so small. Something thick and hard presses tantalizingly against his ass.
      “Reconsiderin’ that drink offer yet?” Letho asks. 
      “Absolutely fucking not,” Lambert wheezes. “The only thing I’m reconsidering is not asking you to come back to my place and fuck me into oblivion first.”
      Letho’s laugh shakes them both and fucking hell Lambert wants him right here, right now.
      “I’d settle for the nearest bush at this point,” he manages. Hands grip his waist and Letho moves against him, rolling his hips, his erection rubbing against Lambert’s ass.
      “Let’s get that drink first,” he growls, his breath tickling the back of Lambert’s neck. “It’ll be fun to watch you wiggle for an hour or two. Plus, I usually like to get to know someone just a little first.”
      “Grabbing and hauling me behind some dumpsters isn’t exactly getting to know me,” Lambert says with a snort. Breath gusts over his ear, then lips press against the side of his neck.
      “You’re an exception, bunny. …Plus, Geralt and Eskel have talked about you enough, it almost feels like I know you. Still wouldn’t mind that drink, though.”
      Shivers roll over Lambert’s skin at the sound of that deep voice so close to his ear. Shoved flush against the wall like this, every tiny movement creates delicious friction against his growing hard-on. 
      “Let’s get that drink, then,” he grunts, “or I might cum again right here.”
      Letho steps back, allowing Lambert to peel himself off the wall. After a moment of reorientation, Lambert sets off down the street, Letho a step behind him.
      “There’s a place nearby that I’ve been to before,” he says. “It should be safe from those assholes… at least I think so.”
      “No ones gonna bother you if I’m here,” Letho replies. 
      “They better not. I have a very packed schedule for tonight now, as long as having a drink with me doesn’t put you off.”
      “Won’t.”
      “Don’t be so sure,” Lambert says with a grimace. Letho snorts with amusement. 
      “Judgin’ by our encounter behind those dumpsters, I think we’ll get along real well, bunny.”
     A little thrill of heat runs through Lambert every time he hears Letho’s deep voice saying that stupid, embarrassing nickname. If it was anyone else, he would’ve punched them, but—
      “I fucking hope so,” he says. “And for fucks sake, don’t call me that again until we’re someplace where I can suck your dick about it.”
~~~
      A ray of sunlight wakes Lambert the next morning by falling across his face. He cracks an eyelid, and doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. For a brief moment, he panics, then he remembers. Thick arms tighten around his middle. Lips press against the base of his neck.
      “Mornin’,” a deep voice rumbles in his ear. He hadn’t thought that voice could get any sexier. Well, he had been wrong.
      “Didn’t think you were the type to stick around,” Letho continues. “Thought you were gonna scamper away as soon as I was done with you.”
      “I don’t even remember falling asleep,” Lambert admits, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. “I guess you wore me out.”
      His body shakes with Letho’s chuckle.
      “Good.”
      Lips ghost against the back of his neck again, and the touch reminds Lambert of something he had been meaning to ask the night before. He wiggles, squirms, and manages to roll himself over in Letho’s hold.
��     “Who were you hiding from last night?” he demands. “I completely forgot to ask. Who the fuck could make you want to hide in an alleyway?”
     Letho blinks slowly.
     “My friends,” he says after a moment. “They were tryin’ to make me go on a blind date, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, I took a walk.”
      “A walk?”
      “Yeah, an evasive one. Not a fan of blind dates, at least the kind you have in a restaurant or some shit. Didn’t mind the one we had, though.”
      “Dunno if I’d call that a blind date,” Lambert mutters. 
      “Doesn’t matter what you call it. It was hot.”
      Grinning, Lambert slings an arm around the big man’s neck.
      “It was. Anyway, how about we have another go, then we get breakfast somewhere, my treat.”
      A quick scramble later and Lambert finds himself rolled over again, a huge hand clamped firmly over his mouth, the other holding him tight against Letho’s body. Teeth close gently around the shell of his ear, then a tongue slides against the surprisingly sensitive skin. Heat pours down his throat.
      “That sounds like a plan,” Letho growls. “Now, be a good little bunny and beg for my cock like you did last night.”
~~~
      Lambert takes a long drink from his glass. He’s been trying to keep the events of the past few weeks under wraps as best he can, but he forgot to wear something to cover the bite marks on his neck tonight, and he can practically feel the marks burning under his friends’ scrutiny. 
      “Nice necklace,” Eskel comments, indicating what he means with a free hand. “Didn't realize you liked wearing jewelry.”
      “Oh, I saw that too,” Geralt adds. “Very fancy.”
      “Fuck off,” Lambert mutters into his beer. His friends guffaw. 
      “Who do you think is the culprit?” Geralt asks the man next to him, who happens to be Geralt’s boss. The man stirs from his contemplation of a wine glass, blinks once, then smiles a close-lipped smile. Lambert belatedly remembers that this man is also heavily tattooed, just like—
      “You know,” the man says in a soft voice, “usually I wouldn’t have an answer for you, but I did recently overhear a friend referring to Lambert here as ‘bunny’ and I couldn’t help but wonder…”
      A hot flush rises into Lambert’s face as Eskel and Geralt howl with laughter, then begin pelting the man with questions. When he refuses to elaborate, they turn back to Lambert.
      “Who is it?” they chorus in unison.
      Lambert takes a drink of his beer instead of giving them an answer, and finds an excuse to leave as fast as possible. He has somewhere to be, anyway.
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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years ago
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14 (bodyguard AU) and 46 (blind date) sounds fun,,, your choice of ship ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥
14. Bodyguard AU || 46. Blind date
Random choice generator got me creativisleep!
~
roman's a semi-popular actor- he's never really been to an awards show, and he's not been in That much, but he had a small but strong role in a real popular film and plenty of leading ones in lesser known movies. he's got enough of a following to be satisfied with himself, even if it isn't That huge of one
because of this, roman didn't take the possible dangers of his fame seriously... until he got jumped by one fan at a play in his hometown. he came out fine (he's always fine ;p) but it made him reconsider his choice to not have some sort of protection
he ends up hiring remy to be his bodyguard, a choice he Slightly starts regretting when he realizes remy, despite having excellent marks out of bodyguard school, is about as professional as a golden retriever
they take roman's food out of his fridge Whenever, borrow Way too many of his shirts (and roman hasn't seen his BMC 'boyf riends' hoodie since they got their hands on it), and is never in typical bodyguard wear (they wore a suit for the interview and never again)
but they also bring roman coffee (when did they get his regular figured out...?), talk to him like he's just a Person and not a celeb, and have yet to try and kill him themself so. roman's alright with them staying
(plus, is it so wrong if roman enjoys how they look? he deserves for a bit of an eye-candy sorta bodyguard, damnit, they're with him all the time after all)
remy's been with roman as his bodyguard for a few months when roman decides he cant just keep Lookin at a pretty person, he deserves to have a pretty person to kiss and cuddle with too!! so he pokes around for a bit, finds a non-homophobic service (he's pan, so he could Technically use a plain ol' straight service, but he refuses on gay principle), and uses it
idk how datin apps work but this one that im makin up is a blind match up app, which takes ur information and uses it to randomly pair u up with random accounts. the app keeps account info privated until After the first date has been gone on, to really maintain the 'blind match' aspect. the matched up people play a mini guessing game through the app about places they can go for a date until location and time is determined
roman likes the idea of the app mostly to keep his own identity secret as long as possible- he doesnt want people pickin his account Just bc he's a celeb, y'know?
the first couple of blind dates dont go well tho... most are nice people who roman just isn't compatible with, one was a straight woman who spent the entire date being Very homophobic despite roman's rainbow heart + pan flag pins, and someone who was clearly Too Much Of A Fan (remy had to physically pull them off of roman and help him escape the park before they could latch back on)
oh, did roman not mention? remy's been coming on all his dates with him
because of course they are! they need to protect roman! whether that's by eating dinner in the booth over or sitting two rows back at the cinema or awkwardly half-stalkin roman and his date while they walk about
so they're always there, to bring roman there and take him home, and listen when he complains about the bad matches and lament the almost-winners, and convince him he is a catch that needs to try again because eventually Someone will realize he really is too good to pass up
(remy always says that line in a weird way)
so he keeps trying... until roman has possibly the worst date ever
because he gets stood up. it's fifteen minutes past the scheduled date time, he's gotten no text explainin where they are, but he's sittin at the restaurant alone and starting to become rather upset by the pitying look the server gives him when he says he's still waitin on someone else before he orders
remy slides into the seat across from him at the 20 minute mark. shoots roman an apologetic smile that an outsider would mistake as a 'sorry im late' one when roman knows it's a 'sorry they didnt show' one
roman appreciates the gesture to save him, but he almost just wants to go home at this point. he's tired and bein stood up feels like Shit, actually, and he's about ready to call off the whole dating thing really, dramatic as that may be (like it's not his middle name)
but remy says smth about this place having really good sandwiches, and it's clear they're tryin so hard to help roman out here, even a little, and roman can't just dismiss that effort, so he picks up his menu again and orders smth and tries to ignore the way his face heats up just the slightest at the relieved smile remy flashes next
lunch with remy is great, actually, better than it would've been with whoever couldnt be bothered to show or apologize or Anything. remy even knows the way to an ice cream shop on the way home, sayin it's for roman's 'broken heart' as they pay for it
except, well... roman's heart isn't feelin so broken anymore
it's actually feeling pretty put together. really functional. functioning really fast. especially when roman's looking at remy. or when remy's lookin at roman. or when they smile. or when they laugh. or when they speak. or when they-
roman doesn't fall asleep until 2am that night, heart still racing a bit, screaming into his pillow a bit as he acknowledges he is wholly and totally head-over-heels for his bodyguard
he tells remy the next day he's done with dating for a bit, saying he's still upset over being stood up. he doesn't mention that it's also bc remy's ruined all other people for him
things try to fall back in routine from there, but it's a bit harder when roman's trying to not be so in love with someone who just works for him. and remy's definitely started pickin up on it too- they had asked him just last if he was okay, that he didn't seem as upset by remy takin his clothes anymore, and that didn't seem like him, was he getting sick?
the opposite, actually, absolutely nothing makes me feel better then seeing you walk around in my shirt or jacket or whatever else, please never stop and also kiss me?
roman just said he was tired
eventually... roman decides this can't keep going on. remy's giving him more weird looks these days, and roman is pretty sure being around remy so much without Any kisses is starting to cause brain decay (it's not, it's really not, remy always bein on his mind is just a side effect of.... pretti........). so, he takes matters into his own hands
admittedly, maybe firing remy wasn't the best way to go, given remy immediately demands to know why, what they did wrong, even asking if roman's being blackmailed into this
"blink once for yes, twice for no" remy asks, lowering the sunglasses they always have on to look directly at roman's eyes
roman doesn't blink for a full minute. he might not be breathing for that minute either. has he ever seen remy's eyes this close? has he ever seen them at all? they're such a brilliant shade of brown. roman could drown in them. he might be already
roman's pretty sure he started this conversation standing up, but maybe not, because when he finally blinks and remembers things outside of remy's eyes exist he's sitting down and remy looks extremely concerned
"okay... what's wrong, hun?" they ask, and oh no, they look so sad, and worried, and that's not good, roman should fix that right now, regardless of whatever he was doing before (he's forgotten)
"im gay" he responds intelligently. this will fix everything
remy, however, just looks confused. "yes?"
"for you" roman adds, helpfully, sure that Now remy will understand they're just really very pretty and nothing's wrong and if they feel bad still they should look in a mirror because then they'll be good again
now it's remy's turn to sit in silence, expression frozen in one of shock. they still havent put their sunglasses back on, so roman doesnt mind, bc this gives him more time to stare at remy's eyes
"you're having a breakdown because you're gay for me???" remy finally asks, expression unfreezing to look incredulous and a little hurt
roman returns a similar look. "im not having a breakdown!"
remy scoffs. "yeah, sure, right, that's why you suddenly froze and completely stopped breathing and minorly collapsed after i... look off my shades to look at you..." they suddenly break out in a smirk. "oh my gods, you're a gay disaster"
roman doesn't try to deny it, especially with the knowledge he apparently did stop breathing to admire remy's eyes. they have a point
"how long?"
"since that date you hijacked after i got stood up" roman admits. he finds it extraordinarily rude when remy starts laughing
...until they're pulling out their phone, hurriedly opening up the exact same dating app roman had been using, showing a log of all the dates they had planned- there's only one marked as having actually been attended
same date time and place of the one where roman had assumed he had been stood up
"you broke my heart!" roman says as remy puts away their phone, over-dramatically, not actually giving a damn, just feeling gay and a bit giddy at the thought remy hadnt gone to any of the other dates, just theirs
no longer worried quite as much about roman for the moment, remy's smirk just grows, smoothly moving from being crouched in front of roman to being set firmly in his lap, lazily brushing hair out of his eyes and wow was remy always this warm? and stunning? and perfect?
"i dunno babe... sounds more like i stole it" remy teases, movin from playing with roman's hair to cuppin his cheek, leaning in close and not even bothering to pretend to be looking at anything other than roman's lips. "which, yeah, bad bodyguard etiquette... i hope you can forgive me..."
roman doesn't need his words to answer that tease
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lettersnorth · 3 years ago
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It didn't surprise Aislinn an onze that Mivo'to had up and disappeared on his attendings one sun. Nor was she all that concerned. He had knocked himself out due to a miscalculation. It certainly wasn't the worst thing the clinic had seen. And he had clearly recovered. Win-win all around. She got to work stripping the sheets from the bed and cleaning  up the now vacant room.
Cravendy wandered into the clinic in search of fresh bandages and ointment. She could still feel the pressure pushing down on her bones, the smell of ceruleum burning after the explosion...and it didn't seem like it was going to go away any time soon. When she stepped in, she noticed Lin and called out to her on instinct. "Lin!"
An armful of sheets, Aislinn rounded the divider just as Cravendy called out. She halted, surprise flitting over her face for a brief moment before her expression pulled back to neutral. "Cravendy." she nodded a greeting and then scooted around the Seawolf to the waiting laundry basket. "What brings you in here? Everything alright?" she asked as she shoved the ball of sheets down into the overfull basket. Guess the wash was next on her list.
Cravendy awkwardly pressed herself against the infirmary partition to give Lin more space to walk, and got the feeling that she's not exactly a welcome sight. At best, a nuisance to entertain while there were chores to be done. With a shrug, she headed over to the cabinets and began pulling out all kinds of medical supplies. "Oh, ye know. Smartin' after the battle, lookin' for somethin' to make it all feel better. What about yerself? 'ow are ye 'oldin' up?"
"Me?" Aislinn asked as she straightened and brushed a flyaway wisp of hair from her eyes. "Aside from pulling Mivo'to out before the whole place went up I didn't do a damned thing that woulda caused me to be banged up." She eyed the collection Cravendy was haphazardly pulling from the potions cabinets and picked up a bulbous glass jar filled with a warm, golden liquid. This, she passed to Cravendy. "Drink two spoonfuls of this. Three if it doesn't take the edge off." she then nodded to the drawer below the cabinet. "You need a patch up? Afraid G'lewra is out so if you do, I can do it the mundane way. Or you can wait for her to aether-heal it."
“Could ye?” Cravs muttered as she gave Lin a curious stare. “I’m used to patchin’ myself up at this point but...I bet ye could get the ‘urt out faster.”
Cravendy grabbed the jar of golden liquid before heading back to take a seat. She twisted the medicine open and gave it a good sniff or two. "Bleh. Anyway, even if ye didn't do a thing, it's not every day ye survive an explosion. So, well, there's that. That and..." Cravs trailed off. "Well. I was surprised ye didn't use yer fancy math shields."
Aislinn paused, shooting the Seawolf a look of concern as she pulled the needed bandages and supplies from the drawers. The pain must be bad if Cravendy wasn't willing to wait. She went and joined the woman on the couch, setting a tray of the necessary items next to her. Careful not to meet the Seawolf's eye, she gave a half shrug at the observation. Silence reigned as she gingerly gestured for Cravendy to show her the burns. It filled the space until finally, with her time at the hot spring fresh in her mind, she let go a sigh and broke it. "I can't." she admitted, finally. "I can't use my shields or...any of it. Not since....not for awhile."
Cravendy unbuttoned her shirt, revealing bandages tied across her chest and around her back. There's also a significant scar on her lower abdomen that looks like it's healing weird, but healing nonetheless. "I applied ointment a few days ago, but it's 'ard to reapply it to my back. If ye could..."
Cravendy trailed off at Lin's admission, unsure what to say. She was originally going to poke fun at the situation, joke that Lin needs to practice the basics again. "Oh. Well, uh. What're ye doin' about that, then?"
The conversation was momentarily forgotten as Lin gathered the full measure of Cravendy's injuries. "Gods above, Cravendy. Why the hell didn't you come in the moment  you got back? Or say -anything- out there in the field. I coulda done something -then-!" To be fair, Cravendy had done a decent job, all things considered. She obviously wasn't new at this. Even so, the oddly healing scar drew Aislinn's attention and she carefully inspected it closer, her aether sense stretching out. She could, at least, still do that much.
"I assumed everyone got just as roasted! Figured, I could still move, so I could treat my own wounds. Bah, this was a mistake..." Cravs leaned a little away from Lin, nervous to show vulnerability. But when she noticed Lin drawn to the scar on her stomach, Cravs brought a finger to her lips. "Risin' gave me that one. Don't tell 'er though."
Cravendy tugged her shirt around herself so she's wrapped from the elbow down for the sake of modesty, though it really doesn't add much. "Anyway, ye were sayin'? About yer magic bein' broken?"
Aislinn jerked her chin up as Cravendy began to draw away, the look on her face all but daring the Seawolf to just try and keep it up. Small as she was, she wasn't letting Cravendy out of there without proper treatment. "No. Waiting to come here was the mistake." she chided. She shook her head in exasperation at the mention of the weird wound coming from Rising.
She could only imagine what raucous bout had caused that. "I have this way about me," she said, quickly surmising that if she kept talking, Cravendy would stay put. "Of absorbing curses. Cursed energy, hexes..." she trailed off as she motioned for Cravendy to turn around so she could get the ointment on her back. "Turns out, a person can only do that for so long until all that bad energy needs a place to go. It's made my aether...a touch unstable. I *could* cast a spell. I just don't know what'll come out."
Cravendy saw the face Lin was making - the same sort a parent would give a fussy toddler - and pouted. But she was already here, bandages exposed, back turned and ointment ready. It'd be even more dumb to get up and leave after getting so far. "Fine, but be thorough, eh? I want to be better by the time we 'ave to get blown up again."
Cravendy obliged to whatever Lin needed her to do in order to work and listened quietly, face forward and staring unfocused into the room. "Weird. So if I put ye in my room, would ye absorb all of the bad vibes? In the east, there's all this shit about Feng Shui and harmonizin' with yer surroundings."
Cravendy glanced back at Lin to see if her joke landed.
Aislinn blanched at the thought, even though she knew it was more than likely that Cravendy was just being a smart-ass. "Who knows...probably. Apparently I've been walking around for years just absorbing ambient refuse. Now I'm full up. Or close to it. It's...painful to be close to anything like that. Like I'm burning up from the inside. That's when I first realized something wasn't right." she said quietly as she cut away the old bandage and carefully pulled it back with delicate fingers.
Cravendy let out a disappointed breath at Lin's reaction and went back to looking forward. "That sounds...painful. I wish I could 'elp, but don't know the first thing when it comes to magical ailments. But I will say, ye should 'ang back until ye get this under control. Last thing ye need is suckin' up more bad energy and makin' worse."
Cravendy scowled as she revisited what Lin had just said. Burning up. Absorbing curses. A worrisome theory forms. "'ey, uh. When did this start? Just casually one day?"
"That's me, a walking bad luck charm." Aislinn muttered as she dressed the new bandages and applied them to Cravendy's back. "Don't worry, I've asked someone to fill in for me on the next job in Coerthas while I try and get this problem sorted." The ointment was cooling and numbing all at the same time and would dull the pain of the burns as the medicinal herbs got to work healing the skin underneath. Aislinn was quiet long enough that it was obvious she was trying to decide how to skirt the question.
She started reassembling the supplies back on the tray. When she rose to her feet, she figured the only way any of this between her and Cravendy was going to work was if she stopped hedging and just be honest. No matter what. "Probably ramped up while we were trying to find the Helm." she said as she took the tray over to the sink.
Cravendy tensed when the ointment is first applied, but breathes a sigh of relief quickly after. "Ah, thanks, already feels better. And the person coverin' for ye...is it that string bean fella I saw ye talkin' with in the library? What's 'e like? Don't often see 'im around. Guy looks painfully serious, the kind to take offense at small talk."
Cravendy was silent for a while after, staring at the partition rod as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. Finally, loudly and suddenly, she groaned. "Shit.”
"Shit! That really pisses me off!" Cravs stood up, shirt still dangling around her arms, and paced around in a circle. "Fuck! Goddamnit. Ahhh, bloody...Lin, why didn't ye say somethin' earlier?!"
Turning away from the basin, Aislinn leaned back against the sink with a faint air of amusement. "Aye, the string bean fella." she waved a hand up through the air. Anything more she might have had to say on the subject was lost in the wake of Cravendy's agitation. Caught up short, her eyes flicked away and then back to her. "Because I didn't know what the problem was. Only that these sudden burning sensations would flare up every so often. And then once I did, it was all said and done. What good would it have done to bring it up to you after the fact except to put you in a state like this?" she gestured to the anxious pacing the Seawolf was currently succumbing to.
Cravendy wanted badly to grab Lin by the shoulders and shake some sense into her, or maybe, just shake her until somehow she got better. Cravs nearly snarled, hearing reason in Lin's words but not having it. She clenched and unclenched her fists, not sure what to do with this sudden anger.
"Even worse, ye die a slow an’ painful death! I like to know when I've messed up so I can do somethin' about it!" Cravs huffed. You could practically see the steam hiss out of her ears.
In the face of Cravendy's anger, Aislinn breathed easy, slow breaths. Matching the Seawolf's temper had never worked for either of them in the past. It was on the tip of her tongue. The correction that if this would kill her, it wouldn't be slow but violent and sudden. She decided that really was besides the point right now. "How did -you- mess up? You weren't there. And what would you do about it?" she asked, trying to get Cravendy to see reason.
"Ye don't understand. This whole shitty business with the Helm...If I didn't suggest raidin' that Garlean ship. If I 'ad the balls to stick around and save my crew. If I didn't summon 'er, then, maybe..." Cravs breathed heavily until she was light-headed, but it worked to calm her down. She fell back down into the couch with a hand over her face to cover her reaction. "...Shit, I don't know. Maybe ye'd find some other stupid way to get yer fill of cursed energy and die anyway. I don't know. Maybe.”
Cravendy spoke, words muffled in her palm. "Lin, I. The fireball. That..." Cravs shook her head. "...doesn't matter. I don't know what I'll do about it, just that I'll do /something/ about it."
Aislinn heaved a sigh and pushed off from the sink, coming to join Cravendy on the couch. "And then you'd be dead, right? Isn't that how it all worked? Honestly, it was only a matter of time. It was always going to catch up to me at some point. The Helm business just ushered it along." she paused. "Which isn't to say that fireball that Wyda hit me with didn't hurt like hell. Hard not to take something like that personally." she said, in a rare attempt to lighten the mood.
She turned to look at Cravendy, mustering a smile. "Look. I'm working on it. A friend and I are tracking down someone in Ishgard that'll know about my problem. And...hopefully what to do about it."
Cravendy puffed up her chest, about to come up with a rebuttal to Lin's answer. As usual, she came up empty, and then similarly let out a tired sigh. "Feh, yer always so logical, even about all heavy shit like this. I....guess that's what I like ye for though. Just - just. I don't know. Leave the stupid to me."
Cravendy would take comfort in the fact that Lin was actively looking for someone to diagnose the issue, though this would linger in the back of her mind for long after. With or without Lin's blessings, she'd find a way to help. This was either going to lead to great success, or equally great disaster.
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dumb-little-trans-writer · 3 years ago
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Rust and Black Thorn Trees. Chapter 2.
The girl tiredly wandered, getting increasingly exhausted.
She didn’t know where she was.
She knew nothing.
What Miranda neglected to focus on, however, was the fact that she also transformed when on the brink of death, to attempt to find something, anything, to eat, or to wear.
She saw a pack of lycans.
She silently transformed, as how Mother taught her.
Or, more accurately, beat into her.
She stalked the lycans for the perfect moment.
They grabbed bunnies as though they were chips, the high-pitched screaming echoing through her ears.
As one of the lycans had a rabbits leg in it’s mouth, Dasha struck the lycan closest to her, slashing it’s throat. She quickly moved from lycan to lycan before they could react.
As she transformed back, she immediately started tearing the flesh from the lycans with her teeth. She found that eating right after transforming prevents the nausea and the puking, it doesn’t prevent the leaking of the liquid from her eyes and nose, though.
She binged, knowing that this may be her last meal for a while.
She could smell winter on the horizon, and this was her life for the next six years.
Over these six gruesome years, she was able to find the occasional lost tourist or hunter in the forests surrounding Heisenberg’s Factory.
She stole their weapons, and their clothing.
She found that she preferred men’s clothing.
The girl would transform less and less, using the limited ammo and resources she had.
Karl Heisenberg watched her last hunt, as it was the closest to the factory she’d ever been.
Risky.
Hmm, he thought as he watched her dance with the lycans.
With a shotgun shell to the face, of course.
“Hey, you know, there isn’t anyone who can sell you ammo around here,” Heisenberg said, walking toward the girl. She jumped, cautious, “if you run out, you’re kinda fucked.” he stated, putting out his cigar.
She had heard of Lord Heisenberg. Never met him though.
“What are you implying?” she spat.
“All i’m saying is that running out of shotgun shells during the wintertime, when it’s nearly below zero, can be deadly,” he paused, spitting on the cold leaves, “especially for someone as tiny as you.” he laughed at her glare.
“Don’t call me tiny.” she replied, walking past him.
In the recesses of her mind, she was okay with it.
Heisenberg led Dasha to his factory.
It was loud.
The metal clanging against itself, the periodic releases of steam, and the...chainsaw revving?
Heisenberg opened a hatch, and screamed “SHUT YOUR HOLE, ROTTEN CUNT.”
The revving stopped.
“Is one of your failed experiments down there, Karl?” she teased, taking off her jacket as the humidity made it extremely warm, and uncomfortably sweaty. It revealed how muscular she had grown. She was still slim, but a little buffer from when she was with Her.
He seemed taken aback by her calling him Karl, instead of Lord, or even just his last name.
He liked that she didn’t pay his status any mind, he knows he didn’t give a fuck.
“Maybe. I’ll throw you down there if you decide to say some shit.” Heisenberg said with a slight growl.
“I could take it, i bet.” she purred.
“Don’t tempt me, bitch.” Heisenberg whispered, emphasizing ‘bitch’
The girl lightly skipped down the hallway, amusing Heisenberg.
“If I didn'thave a spare room I'd make you sleep outside.” Heisenberg called. She turned and nodded, “It’s right over here.” he pointed to a door on the side of another hallway. The room they were currently in had the bare necessities, albeit it was a mess.
She really didn’t mind though.
She walked to the room he was talking about, and opened the door to a bed that seemed to be collecting dust.
In fact, everything seemed to be barely touched.
Despite her past with cleaning, she needed to at least dust everything down.
“You got something i can wipe this shit down with? Looks like a tomb in here.” she yelled.
“Yeah, gimme a sec, christ” Heisenberg seemed to be struggling with something. She left the room, confused, and then amused at the sight before her.
He seemed to be trying to fix his oven, or cleaning it, whatever he was doing, he was struggling with it.
“Pfft, need help?” she asked, smirking.
“I’d rather kill myself than get help from you.” he coldly replied, sighing as he took his head out of the oven. His face was slightly stained with ash, and he was sweating. She leaned up again the counter, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. Now that she had a closer look, he seemed to be cleaning to oven judging by the ash stained rag soaked in water he was holding.
“This isn’t how you do it, let me help you.” she demanded. Heisenberg was slightly surprised by this, but silently swallowed a bite of his pride, and stood up, arms crossed.
“So how do YOU do it?” Heisenberg asked in a condescending tone.
“You got baking soda?” she suddenly asked, “’cause we’re gonna need a decent amount.” she added, taking out the oven racks.
“I have a lot of it, i guess.” Heisenberg replied, slightly confused.
“Do you realize how much of a fire hazard this is? I might scrub your entire fucking house down at this rate.” Dasha exclaimed, “where’s the baking soda?”
“There.” he pointed to a cabinet. She opened it and grabbed the tin, holding it for a moment to see if she’d need another one.
“Vinegar?” she asked.
“In the same cabinet.” Heisenberg said, annoyed and impatient.
“This is gonna take a day, I hope you know.” Dasha laughed.
“Fucking WHAT?” Heisenberg asked, shocked.
“Yeah. I have to-”
“I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME AND YOU’RE CLEANING MY OVEN.” Heisenberg said, frustrated.
“...Do you wanna know my name?” she asked, pouring baking soda and water into a cup, “or how to clean your own fuckin’ oven?” she said, sarcastically.
“Both’s fine I guess.” Heisenberg rolled his eyes.
“Dasha Jelíneková. That’s my name.”
“Dein Name ist schön...” Heisenberg muttered.
“...what?” Dasha asked, confused.
“Nothin’. Explain why it’s gonna take a day.” he quickly changed topics.
“Well, wiping down the interior with a soaked rag might get some of the grime off, but it won’t get it all off,” she paused as she mixed more baking soda in with the water to make a paste, “deep cleaning your oven like this also helps heat disperse evenly.” she explained.
“Seriously..?” he muttered, thinking about how his last meal was damn-near raw in some spots, and burnt in others.
“So, you take baking soda and water, make a paste with it like this,” she stuck the cup in his face, “you got rubber gloves, right?” she asked.
“Take a fuckin’ guess.” Heisenberg laughed at the question.
“Hand ‘em to me, dickhead.” she said, making a poor attempt to hide a smile.
“By the way, dunno if this has anythin’ to do with you, but i’ve been finding pretty large lycan carcasses that are either brutally killed and then eaten, or seemingly killed in self defense, all of ‘em had gnarly claw marks,” he paused, “know anything about that?” He asked. Her blood ran cold, but she tried to keep her composure. 
“Maybe it was a mutated Lycan.” she quietly said, applying the paste to every crevice in the oven. Heisenberg was confused as to why she was acting strange, and more importantly, how she knew the Lycans were caused by...that.
“Well, uh, keep an eye out, yanno?” Heisenberg uncomfortably laughed in the awkward silence.
“Can you plug the sink, and pour some baking soda on ‘em? Then pour the vinegar on ‘em.”
“Okay...what now?” Heisenberg asked.
“Wait for it to stop foaming, and stick em under the water. In the sink, i mean.” she explained, finishing applying the last of the paste.
“Okay...” he muttered.
“Now, we wait for at least ten hours.”
“...Are you serious?” Heisenberg asked, seemingly shocked.
“Why wouldn’t i be?” she replied, confused.
He looked down, “That doesn’t seem reasonable-”
“You don’t seem to be either, Mister Heisenberg.” she smirked at him.
“You know...” he started, “You should be happy I haven’t chucked you down that chute.” he threatened, towering over her small frame with a hand in her hair, mimicking a ponytail, pulling her close to him. He outwardly smelled like cigar smoke, gasoline, and sweat. His breath reeked of whiskey, his hot breath on her cheek. But she smelled more than just that, due to the experimentation with the Cadou.
She could smell what people feel, she always sort of could, but this was heightened by the experimentation.
This was new, it smelled like a heavy, rich devil’s food cake.
It smelled like sin.
She glanced downward at his crotch, and he was definitely pitching a tent.
“You really don’t want this, Karl.” she whispered. It was true, at least in her mind.
No one should want a monster.
She didn’t even know what she wanted, outside of Her dead.
Staring directly into his eyes, she gently placed her hand on the hand he was using to grip her hair. He violently let go, glaring and walking outside.
He hated how similar, yet different they both were. He wanted her to stay with him, despite barely knowing eachother.
It was a bag of mixed emotions.
Dasha followed behind, she found Heisenberg collecting firewood.
“I’m makin’ hotdogs.” he stated.
“On a fire, I’m assuming?” she asked, “i had to learn how to make a fire by myself. Got good at it too.” she bragged.
Heisenberg ignored her comment, “Can you get the ‘dogs and the buns for me outta the fridge?”
“Sure, what rack are they on?” she asked.
“Figure it out.” he coldly replied.
She scoffed, and went back inside, muttering to herself.
Heisenberg thought for a while while she was inside.
Why did she know about the Cadou? Why does she live in the forest? Is it by choice? I wonder if she’s useful...I wonder if Miranda- he thought. He zoned out, and realized his hands were dangerously close to the fire. He nonchalantly pulled them away, added a little more wood, and grabbed a chair. He thought for a moment, and pulled another chair over from the wood pile.
She came back, hot dog buns and hot dogs in tow.
Heisenberg used his powers to make two metal sticks come to him.
“What the fuck.” she whispered, taken aback.
“Oh. Here.” he said, handing one to Dasha.
“No, what the fuck was that-?” Dasha nervously laughed.
“Oh, yeah. I can do that. Only metal though.” Heisenberg explained.
“Huh.” she replied, giving a bun and a hot dog to him. He stuck the tapered metal point through the middle of the hot dog, and stuck it over the fire.
Dasha did the same.
They sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like a hour, but really was five minutes.
Heisenberg, obviously, was the first to break the silence.
“So I know you’ve never really mentioned it, but I’m thinkin’ you LIVE in the forest, right?” Heisenberg asked.
“Yeah. Why?” she asked, holding the hot dog above the fire.
“Just haven’t really seen anyone willingly live in the forest.” Heisenberg shrugged. There was another period of silence between them as the fire popped and crackled.
“Do you live in the forest willingly?” Heisenberg asked, taking his hot dog off the metal stick, placing it into the bun.
She looked at him, and opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words to describe her situation. She blinked a couple times, trying to find the words.
“I don’t know.” she furrowed her brow, and had an unmistakable look of i’m-remembering-things-i-don’t-want-to-think-about. Heisenberg wasn’t amazing with emotions, despite being able to read someone like a book.
“Sorry.” he quietly said, looking away from her.
“You had no way of knowing. It’s fine.” She leaned towards him. Then, she took her hot dog away from the fire, and just ate it off the stick. This sight amused Heisenberg.
“How long have you lived in the forest?” Heisenberg asked with his mouth full.
“Around six years? Hard to keep track.” she said, after swallowing a bite.
“Damn. So how old are you now?”
“I don’t know, around twenty-three, i think?” she replied.
“That checks out.” Heisenberg smugly joked.
“At least I don’t look like I’m from World War II.” she retorted, laughing.
“And what if I am, huh?” Heisenberg joked, knowing he was in fact born around when WWII ended.
“I was kidding, shut the fuck up.” she laughed. Heisenberg realized that he really, really liked her laugh. Maybe it’s from the isolation in the factory, and now he finally has someone that seems to enjoy his company. This feeling scared him, just a little bit.
“Yeah, sure.” he laughed. There was silence again.
“This might be coming out of nowhere, but could you...refer to me as a boy? I know this is strange coming from someone who looks like me, but-” he got cut off.
“I get it, it’s alright. No worries. You got a new name?” he asked.
“Dimitri.”
“Still a pretty name.” Heisenberg muttered.
“I heard that.” Dimitri laughed.
“Oh.”
The both of them finished their hot dogs, and they went inside. It was getting cold.
“Starting tomorrow, you’re gonna help me around the factory. Otherwise I won’t hesitate to throw you out.” Heisenberg threatened.
“Alright, you’re gonna have to show me how it works around here though, depending on my job.” he replied, taking his jacket off. He got into his room and rummaged through his bag, looking for a tank top or something. He found a black one that he looted off of a tourist, and swapped into it. Even when it was freezing outside, it was mildly uncomfortable to wear a sweater like he was. He didn’t even think about his immense number of scars being visible, from various creatures and pitiful self-defense attempts. One benefit from the Cadou was that it gave him a healing factor. The only downside, in his eyes, was that killing himself was impossible. He walked out of the room, and into the living room. Heisenberg was making multiple small metal parts like gears and screws float in a certain fashion, making outlines of various things.
He sat on the couch that looked as though it was about to fall apart.
“You’re almost as scarred up as me,” Karl laughed as he pulled up his shirt, revealing a multitude of scar marks, and a happy trail.
Fuck, okay maybe I do know what I want... he thought. He felt a small tingling around his cheeks, as he laughed. He turned around and pulled up the back of his shirt to reveal some of the worst scars he’s gotten. Heisenberg felt himself tense up, his cheeks went red too.
“Can i..?” he asked as he reached his hand out halfway.
“Touch them? Sure.” Dimitri replied, scooting backwards.
He felt his calloused hands gently trace over all of his scars, even the smaller ones. Despite Karl’s rough and mean demeanor, he was so gentle. His hand gently ran down to his waist. He was surprised, but it was calming.
Karl pulled away, fearful of being intimate with him. He had just met the guy, why did he feel this pull?
“I was okay with that, you know.” he said, facing him and letting his shirt fall back to it’s place. He moved a bit closer, wanting the closeness of someone that he never had. “...Please?”
Heisenberg was confused. He was reluctant because of trust issues, yet Dimitri was the polar opposite?
Why did he come here..?
I wanted to use him as an experiment, why-?
“No.” he stated, “I can’t.”
He wordlessly left, Dimitri assuming into his room.
He sighed, and left into 'his' room too.
"Shit." he muttered, thinking about how bad that was. Dimitri went to sleep, trying to forget the entire damn day.
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