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revelboo · 27 days ago

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how many souls have you taken Revel bc ive seen multiple ppl promising their life to you and with your delicious writing im about to be yet another life in your debt 😭😭

So, so many souls. Maybe I’m an Eldritch horror bartering in the shadows. Maybe I’m just a collection of exceptionally clever crows in a trench coat with a stolen cell phone. You’ll never know…

Finally ran out of space on the shelf… 18+ content mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Everything Is Alright Pt 97

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Watching Starscream and Soundwave murmuring to you, worrying over you, makes Megatron feel uncomfortably off balance. It’s the tender way Soundwave cups your face, tucking your hair behind your ear and the way Starscream runs his servos over you to make sure you’re unharmed. He’s jealous, he realizes. And he hates it. Not only that, not only jealous, but lonely and that’s so much worse. Surrounded by his followers all the time, but unable to really trust many of them, he’s isolated himself. Alone. Growling softly, optics narrowing, a part of him despises Starscream’s happiness. After all the Seeker’s done, he doesn’t deserve for things to break his way. To be happy and it twists angrily about his spark. “If you’re not going to play with your little pet, maybe I should,” he snarls just to needle Starscream and it works, the mech glaring, wings flicking up and quivering.

• “Cut it out,” you snap at Megatron, and Starscream stiffens, wings flaring slightly. Tensed to protect you when Megatron lashes out at your impudence, because there’s no way you’ll go unscathed for that. For defying him. Watches Megatron’s optics narrow, and Starscream’s servos tighten on you. Ready to grab you and bolt. He’s a much smaller target this size, can fly off and hide with you until Megatron calms down. Soundwave can fend for himself. And then to his utter shock, Megatron laughs. “Stop being a jerk, you already got a free show.”

• Voice wavering as you glare at Megatron and your heart races, you’re encouraged that he thinks your anger is funny and that he’s not getting pissed off. Because he’d been trying to provoke Star and you’re sure all of them know it. So you’d panicked and drawn his attention to you instead. Soundwave’s hands flex against you as if wanting to tell you to stop. And Starscream reaches around you to cover your mouth, growling when you twist your head away. Know they’re worried you’ll push too hard and direct Megatron’s anger at you. “Don’t, little one,” Soundwave growls, voice low as he and Star exchange a look.

• “Let our little pet speak,” Megatron laughs, waving a hand. “Primus knows, no one else here is willing to contradict me.” Uncertain, Soundwave vents against you. Almost tempted to hook a thought in Megatron’s processor, because amusement wasn’t what he was expecting. And he desperately wants to know what their leader is thinking right then. What he thinks of you, because there’s a hunger on the warlord’s face he’s seen before. It’s the look he’d worn in the gladiator pits, defiant and starving to be seen, recognized. “You have a problem fragging in front of me? You didn’t before.”

• “To be fair, I didn’t know you were there until you said something. I was a bit busy,” you counter, chin lifting as your face reddens. And Starscream knows you well enough to know the attitude is all bluster. You’re frightened, he can feel you trembling against him, one of your hand reaching back to grip his arm, the other grabbing Soundwave like you need them to anchor you. Your fear doing things to him. “Go find your own human if you want a show.”

• “Why would I do that, when I already have my own?” Doesn’t mean to say that, to make that claim. Only to antagonize you because your irritation with him is delicious. Ignoring the two other mechs, he stares at you, daring you to contradict him. Watching those eyes narrow, before they slide over him from helm to ped in a slow perusal that makes him freeze. That to his utter shock makes his spike stir behind his plating. Because it’s one thing to taunt and tease. Giving in to that same deviancy Starscream and Soundwave are lost in the grips of? It’s tempting. So tempting. “And if I order them to frag you so I can watch?” If he frags you?

• Can feel the tension in both of your mechs, their hands almost bruising on you. “If you want to watch, just say it,” you mutter, turning in their arms to face Star. Seeing the fury there as you go up on tiptoe to brush your mouth against his. Know this whole thing is meant to demean him, to make him angry. To prove he’s powerless. That he can’t protect you, but you can protect him. If he’s a ticking time bomb about to go and cause as much collateral damage as possible, and you know he is, you have to distract him. “This isn’t his. It’s yours,” you whisper against his mouth, arching into him. “I’m yours.”

• Servos tangling in your hair as your mouth slides against his, his optics shutter. Blocking out Soundwave and Megatron, focusing on you. The warmth of you against him, those soft hands sliding down his chassis to brush against his plating. Asking. They’re watching, Soundwave is almost pressed against your back, his knuckles brushing the other mech as he strokes over you, but he slowly relaxes into you anyway. Pretending this is okay. Because no matter what happens, you are his. His sparkmate, bound to him. Let Megatron watch and see what he can’t have. Freeing his spike, he vents against your throat as Soundwave’s hands grip your hips and lift you for him. Knows the communications officer is trying to shield you from Megatron’s view as much as possible and he appreciates it even as it annoys him that he needs the help.

• That breathy noise you make, head falling back against Soundwave when Starscream enters you goes straight through Megatron. Shifting on his throne, resisting the urge to move closer to see. With Soundwave’s back to him, his body is shielding you from view. But he can hear the wet sound of Starscream thrusting inside you, the Seeker’s low growls and hitching vents. Soundwave murmuring to you, too low to pick out the words. Optics half shuttered, he tries to focus on just you. Hating Starscream in that moment more than he’s ever hated him before. For having this, for being happy when he doesn’t deserve it. He’s not the one who’s lost everything. Who’s sacrificed everything for his goals. For what he believes in. And what he gained? Ash and death. Nothing good, and he wants something warm and soft in that moment. Someone who can’t plot against him or use him. Will defy him and challenge him. He wants you.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #idw soundwave #idw megatron

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arjwrites · 6 months ago

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— Good to know bc im here to request another Castiel x Winchester!reader (oldest sister) hehehehe...

Remember when Castiel became a human and that reaper April used him? I was thinking about the reader in her place, where she ACTUALLY likes Cas and takes care of him. The reader really loves him and doesn't care that he's a human now with no angel powers, he's still the man/angel she loves and care (I'm still mad that Dean kicked Cass out of the bunker)

It's his first time being human, he deserves some love 😞 (And I rlly need some comfort aughhh)

I think I wrote too much, sorry! It's just that I really love human Castiel, he deserved more ❤️‍🩹 — 👼 angel anon

Lessons on Humanity- Human!Castiel x Reader

Summary: Human!Cas arrives on your doorstep in need of a helping hand. Taking him under your wing, you offer him more than he bargained for.

Warnings: None (I don't think???) GN!Reader, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Well, this took forever. Idk why this gave me the WORST case of writer's block ever, but.... I think I just wanted it to be perfect for you, angel anon!!! I hope you enjoy hehehehehe <3333

Leaving hunting behind had been a tough decision, but leaving your brothers and Castiel behind had been even harder. But after all the years, your body screamed for rest, and your heart mourned the years of loss and trauma. It wasn’t like you had completely up and abandoned them- you still took their calls, visited the bunker from time to time, and took on many a research request (which had always been your specialty anyways). But you had grown so tired of the life. And as much as moving into the bunker had been a massive improvement from the endless series of motel rooms you’d grown up with, living in a concrete man-cave with your brothers had proven difficult. And you had always craved a home- somewhere that could be uniquely yours. This had led you to settle down into a sweet cottage, a bit off the beaten path in a quaint little town- not too far from the bunker, but far enough. It was cozy, nothing fancy by any means- two small bedrooms, a slightly outdated kitchen, and a snug little living room you had furnished with thrifted couches and a secondhand TV. What it lacked in elegance, it made up for in character. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

It was a Friday night. You had just gotten off work, ordered a pizza, popped your favorite playlist in your speakers, and were currently dancing around and vacuuming your living room. Ah, domesticities. It was always a nice feeling to be done for the weekend, to have a job you could hang up for a few days and not worry about until Monday morning rolled around. Not like hunting, with its worries that clung tight to you all hours of every day. After finishing your cleaning task, you flopped to the couch, clicking through the TV to find a suitable show to binge alongside your food.

Two crisp knocks at the door pulled you from your search. That was quick, you thought to yourself. You practically skipped to the kitchen to grab your purse, wanting to hand the delivery driver a few extra dollars for the particularly speedy service. But when you swung the door open, more than just the chilly evening air sent a wave of shock your way.

“Oh my God,” was about all you could whisper. In front of you stood Castiel, though he didn’t look much like his usual self. He wore a sweatshirt you didn’t recognize and had a slightly unkempt, unshaven look to him. But beyond his appearance, it didn’t feel like Cas. His shoulders were slumped over as if he was carrying the weight of them for the first time. He wore an expression so tired, so hurt, that your heart broke at the sight of it.

“Cas, honey. What happened?”

“I don’t have my grace. I… lost it. They told me I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to bother you, but… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Oh, Cas. Come in, God, come in.” Your brow furrowed as you gestured for him to enter, concern filling your body. What had you missed? Why didn’t he have his grace? Why wasn’t he with Sam and Dean?

Cas gingerly stepped through your door, barely making it inside the threshold before turning to you, as if he was waiting to follow your lead.

“Come, come sit,” you beckoned him after you, leading him into the living room and patting a seat for him on the couch. He sat, glancing around your room before landing his gaze back to you. You could tell there was something different about him- it was like he was seeing everything around him for the first time.

“So tell me what happened, Cas,” you hummed, gathering every ounce of soothing calm you could muster in hopes you could offer him some comfort.

Cas jumped into his story, telling you all about Metatron, the angels, and him losing his grace- all the things you had missed out on since stepping back from hunting. You nodded along, listening intently, compassionately, quietly- that is, until he told you about the events that lead him to your doorstep.

“He kicked you OUT?” You rose to your feet as he said this, unable to contain your anger in your seated posture. You felt the rage bubble from the deepest part of your stomach, rising quickly to your chest. Poor, sweet Castiel, who tries so hard and deserves so much. Cast out like he was nothing. It was enough to drive you into a blind rampage. Cas, on the other hand, remained seated, eyes fixed to the carpet, dejected.

“I just don’t know what to do. I have all these… feelings I’m not used to.”

“Of course you don’t, honey. It’s all so new. I’ll help you figure things out, alright?” You thought for a moment about what may be most urgent. “Cas, how long have you been human for?”

“Well, a few days now.”

“And have you eaten? Drank water? Slept?”

“I had a candy bar.”

“Oh, you poor thing, Cas. Look… Sit tight, I’m going to get you a glass of water, and I have food on the way. Do you like pizza? No, you don’t know if you like pizza, do you…” You let your voice trail off as you hustled to the kitchen, fixing him a glass of water and returning it to him hastily.

Cas lifted the glass, inspecting it, before tipping it back and downing it in one go. You watched the water slide out of the cup, disappearing down his throat in record time. There was one basic need supported.

“Alright, Cas, why don’t you sit there and relax for a little? I’m going to go make up the guest bedroom for you. Is that alright?” You tilted your head to the side to better gauge his thoughts on the matter. Cas returned you a soft smile and nodded. You let out a subtle puff of breath in relief before retreating up the stairs.

As you grabbed bedding from the linen closet and began to stretch the fitted sheet over the mattress, you couldn’t help but allow your body to take over the menial routine, while your mind fluttered off elsewhere. The angry pit in your stomach persisted, a deepening disgust for the way the angel had been treated, including by your brothers, of all people. But nestled in your chest above your swirling stomach sat your heart, which swelled at the thought of Cas, here with you. In all honesty, he had always meant a lot to you. You had so much admiration, so much reverence for the angel- of course, now that he wasn’t exactly an angel, that didn’t change anything. That was never what it was about. You saw deeper than just Cas’s angelic power- you saw him. Grace or not, there was no changing that. This was still the same angel, the same man, the same being you had always known. Only now, he really needed someone to be there for him. And you intended to do that- slowly, surely, gently.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from down the stairs. Instantly, your mind snapped to the worst-case scenario- call it a lingering hunter’s instinct. You raced down the stairs, only to find Cas perched on the couch, exactly where you had left him.

“Someone knocked on the door,” he whispered wide-eyed, as if it was some sort of intruder behind the door, waiting politely to be let in so he could go about his business.

You breathed a sigh of relief, willing yourself not to get frustrated at the poor man- he had no idea. Scared, lost, confused Castiel.

“It’s just the pizza, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” you replied, giving him a soft smile of encouragement.

With the pizza paid for, food on your plates, and your favorite mindless comfort show on TV, you and Cas began to settle in for the night. You and Cas. It was insane to see the angel in such a domestic setting. The two of you were sat at opposite ends of the couch, nibbling pizza in silent unison. You weren’t sure what to do or say, overwhelmed by Cas’s newfound presence, heartbroken by the things he had experienced, and overall just worried for his wellbeing. But, out of fear of pushing his limits- he had already been through so much the last few days- you fell into a comfortable silence that padded the space between you.

That silence was broken by a yawn coming from the other end of the couch. Cas’s face contorted in a decidedly un-angelic expression, before drawing inwards in confusion. A giggle inched its way towards your lips, but you suppressed it.

“You must be tired, Cas. Let’s go up to bed,” you hummed. Quickly and efficiently, you snapped off the TV, balanced your drinking glasses and plates on top of the pizza box, and slid everything into its rightful place in the kitchen. Re-emerging to the living room, you extended a hand to Cas, pulling him up to his feet before turning to lead him up the stairs.

“This is your room, over here,” you pointed, ducking in the door to show him around. You snapped the bedside lamp on to illuminate the space. “The bathroom is just down the hall if you need to use it. And my room is just next door, if you need anything at all.”

Cas’s eyes scanned the room before settling back on you. He threw a tight-lipped smile, murmuring his thanks. He was bashful, certainly overwhelmed by the avalanche of human emotion and sensation he was experiencing. You really didn’t want to push it, but there was one more thing you wanted to offer him.

Crossing the room, you pulled Cas into a hug. You felt his hands hover for a moment before he rested them across the middle of your back.

“I’m sorry, Cas. You didn’t deserve any of this. But I’m here to help you, whatever you need, okay? You deserve to have someone be there for you.” It was a desperate plea for the man to recognize his self-worth, to provide him with a bit of comfort during this terrifying transition. Your words weighed heavy in the room, anticipating a response that never came. But, you could’ve sworn you felt Cas’s shoulders dip and the muscles of his back soften into the hug.

After a minute, you pulled away, snapping back to your lighthearted self. You wished the man a good night, retreating from the room and closing the door behind you. Crossing the hall and tucking yourself into bed, it wasn’t long before you drifted to sleep.

You rose early the next morning. Usually, you would stroll downstairs in your bathrobe or whatever mismatched pajamas you slept in, but this morning you hopped in the shower straight away, dressing and fixing your hair. Once you made your way down to the kitchen, you got to work pulling together a breakfast you thought Cas would enjoy- pancakes, bacon, and some fruit, all while brewing a pot of coffee. You weren’t sure he’d have much of a taste for it yet, but you certainly were in need of a cup.

As you neared the end of your preparation, you heard the guest bedroom door swing open. Cas descended the stairs into the kitchen, somehow looking slightly more disheveled than when he had arrived on your doorstep the night before.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You offered, hoping he would take it in jest.

“Hello,” he responded. His eyes were puffed with sleep, his hair stuck up in every possible direction, face dotted with yesterday’s stubble that was inching into scruffy beard territory. Looking at him was a clear reminder that you needed to help him figure out how to clean himself up today.

“How’d you sleep, hun?” In any other conversation, this would be a simple pleasantry, but in this case, it was an earnest inquiry.

“Not well. I think I had a dream. It was terrible,” he replied. His gaze remained vacant.

“A dream?” You thought for a moment- was it the sensation of dreaming that he wasn’t used to? Or was it a nightmare? “Tell me about it, Cas.”

“Well, I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember I was running. And when I woke up, my heart was pounding and I was sweating and I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t actually run- just in the dream.”

“Oh, Cas, honey, you had a nightmare.” You approached him, reaching up a hand to run a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “If that ever happens again, you can always come into my room. I’m right next door.”

“How will that help?” He inquired.

“Well, sometimes it’s nice to talk about it, if you want. Or, sometimes it’s just nice to be around someone else, so you don’t feel like you’re facing it alone.”

His nod in response sent a surge of care through your body. Rather than sitting there, gushing over him, you figured you’d channel your worry into something productive- getting him fed.

“Well, I made some breakfast. Have a seat, I’ll make you a plate.”

You pulled out a chair for him at the table, gesturing for him to sit down, before scrambling to pull together a plate piled high with a stack of pancakes, a few slices of bacon, and some strawberries and bananas you had carefully sliced. You rested the plate in front of him, giving him a minute to inspect it, before returning to grab food for yourself.

“Well, what do you think? I figured chocolate chip pancakes would be a safe bet. Everyone likes chocolate chip pancakes.”

Castiel clumsily sliced another bite from the pancake, lifting it to his mouth. He chewed pensively, mulling over the question.

“How do I know if I like it?”

You thought for a moment.

“Good question. Does it make you feel happy?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, Cas, I think you’ll find that one of the great joys of humanity is the opportunity to figure out what makes you happy. We don’t get a lot of say in what goes on down here, but we do get to pick our favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite people, and fill our lives with those. It’s the small pleasures that make the difference.”

He considered your words for a moment, before spearing another bite with his fork. You giggled to yourself. It was adorable to watch him navigate the things you took for granted with so much fascination and uncertainty- something as small as taking a bite of food required all of his concentration and contemplation.

As you sipped your coffee, you considered the task that lay before you. It was your job to teach Cas how to be human- something you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself an expert on. With hunting dominating your upbringing and occupation thus far, you certainly hadn’t had the normal human experience. But you took the challenge in stride, knowing that Cas had much to learn.

Saturday had come and gone. You had spent the entire day teaching Cas a crash course in human life skills, covering important topics like brushing your teeth (which proved more difficult than you thought it would be), remembering to drink water (you struggled with this yourself most of the time), shopping (the two of you thrifted him a whole wardrobe), and anything else you could think of as you went about your usual routine.

As the day wound down, you and Cas sat on your back porch. The emerging twilight buzzed, and a warm breeze filtered through the trees and wrapped itself around the two bodies curled up in the lawn chairs. You were tired, he was tired, so another comfortable silence had settled into its now familiar place between the two of you. You could faintly hear the sound of children laughing and a mother calling after them, voices muffled by the distance that separated you from these neighbors down the street. You smiled to yourself, and Cas took notice.

“Thank you for helping me today,” he offered hesitantly, as if afraid to disturb your thoughts.

“Anytime, Cas.” You were still a bit lost in thought as you responded.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Hmm?”

“Why does being human feel so… Heavy?”

There was something about his tone of voice that snapped you out of your daze. Turning to him, you instantly recognized the worry that was weighing on him.

“I just… I used to be a soldier. I had divine purpose. I’ve always had something to work towards, and now… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Life is a complicated thing, Cas. Most people spend an entire lifetime figuring out their purpose. You may be thousands of years old, but you’ve only been doing the whole human thing for a few days. Be patient with yourself.”

“You seem to handle it all pretty well. Leaving hunting, making a life for yourself. You have it all figured out,” he frowned.

“Want to know a secret?”

He nodded, silently, eagerly.

“I’m not handling it well. And I don’t have it all figured out. Nobody does. That’s the whole game. That’s life. You take what you’re given and you do what you can with it. But the beauty is, you get to choose.”

“How do I know what to choose?”

You smiled in spite of yourself.

“That’s the big question. No one knows what’s right for you except you.”

Cas’s hand reached across to yours, giving it a squeeze that sent your heart aflutter. Fingers intertwined, you settled back into the evening, pensive.

Sleep that night hadn’t come easy by any means. What had started as worry had now spiraled into full-on anxiety, warding you away from slipping into sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind drifted down the hall to Castiel, separated from you by nothing more than a dozen footsteps and couple pieces of drywall. It was as if you could feel his inner turmoil. And beyond that, your heart ached for the man. All you wanted to do was go to him, be with him, comfort him. But the fear that you were taking advantage of his newly human state still plagued you, so you lingered rigid and sleepless in your bed. Just as you rolled over to attempt comfort and hopefully find some sleep, there was the faintest knock at your door- so quiet, you barely registered it.

At first, you weren’t sure if you had actually heard the sound, but when the noise was followed by slow footsteps shuffling away, you snapped up in bed.

“Cas! Come in,” you called. After a second, the door swung open.

“I had another one. A nightmare.” Cas spoke matter of factly, and yet, very soft and reserved. He lingered in your doorway, timid, waiting for you to give your blessing on his entrance.

“Oh, come in, sweetheart. Come sit.” You patted the space beside you, the noise muffled by the thick, fluffy comforter. Cas made his way into a seated position on the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, hesitant to pry but insistent on providing support.

“No.” His response was tense and succinct without being rude- you knew he was processing a lot of feelings, and wanted to give him grace.

“That’s okay. Would you like some time to think through it? Or would you like to be distracted?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Take your time. I’m here.”

There was a beat of silence. Giving him space was your top priority, as much as you wanted to leap across the bed and into his arms.

“Maybe, distracted?”

“Sure thing. I’ll put on a movie, we can watch for a bit.” You snatched the remote from the table beside you, flipping through a few movies you thought Cas may enjoy, before settling on a lighthearted Disney movie. Your finger pressed play and adjusted the volume to a dull hum.

You watched for a while in silence. As the movie was picking up, breaking out into a cheerful musical number, your eyes darted to Cas. Expecting to see him enamored by the animated wonderland, you were taken aback when his eyes locked with yours instantly. It was like he had been looking at you the whole time.

“Hey, Cas.” He wouldn’t look away, and the eye contact was entrancing.

“Hi.” His voice was gruff, a mix of sleep and something else you weren’t entirely sure of, though you were starting to get an idea.

“How are you doing?”

“Better, now. Because I’m with you.” His words sent a wave of warmth through your body as you felt yourself inching closer to him, subconsciously. Clearly, he felt the same pull, as you both shifted to face each other directly.

“Can I ask you about another feeling?” He was usually bashful with his questions, but this time, his voice was steady. His eyes were fixed on you with an almost palpable intensity, a kind of focus that made you fidget, suddenly so aware of yourself.

“Of course,” you responded. He was now just inches away from your face.

“What is this feeling I get when I’m this close to you?” His words were slow and genuine, and yet in some ways, it seemed like he already knew.

“What do you mean?”

“It feels a lot like the nightmare. My heart beats fast and I can’t breathe. But it’s… Different. It’s good. I like it.” His eyes flickered as the words melted you.

He was so close to your face you could feel each breath tickle your nose and lips, as if pressing gentle precursors to tease you into taking the next step.

“Can I try something else you might like?” You could barely speak above a whisper.

He began to nod, lifting his head, but before he could complete the motion, all your defenses came crashing down, and you melted together- lips and limbs intertwining as one. And for the first time since becoming human, Castiel truly felt peace.

There’s something special about humanity. Sure, it has its ups and downs. There’s pain, fear, grief, death. Cas knew all those things already. They were what scared him most when he lost his grace. But he could have never known this, without experiencing it for himself.

The early hours of the morning crept into the bedroom. Everything about the room was warm and soft- a kind of heaven that rivaled even the real thing. Cas watched as the rays of sun slipped through the window to kiss your skin softer, sweeter, more intimately than he ever had. Yet.

There were many things about being human he hadn’t been prepared for. He had lost purpose, drive, direction. When he was first stripped of his grace, it had felt like his newfound heartbeat was mocking him with every pulse. But now? That heart served to pump more than just blood through his veins. His heart beat for you. His whole angelic life, he had been guided by divine word, but nothing had ever felt as holy as you, here, sleeping in his arms. You had taught him humanity, alright. And now, he finally had the chance to do something, to feel something, to experience something more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. He could love you.

Cas let the sounds of your breathing lull him back to sleep.

#castiel x reader #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #supernatural reader insert #castiel #castiel reader insert #castiel x gn!reader #supernatural gn!reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural x gn!reader #supernatural oneshot #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #castiel fanfiction #human!cas #human!castiel #human!cas x reader #cas x reader

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seraphsfire · 2 months ago

Text

///ARCANE s2 finale SPOILERS ///

LONG POST

SO. THAT VIKTOR ARCANE LEAGUEOFLEGENDS GUY HUH.

some observations that are my personal opinion and/or interpretation of viktor's transformation and physical state. (my screenshots, idc if u repost them or whatever just don't say they're yours, etc)

minor edit: added a sentence i could've sworn i'd written that i hadn't and so my paragraph made no sense lol

love love love the aspects of body horror and character design going on with viktor's post-sourdough-starter cyborg body here, so i was trying to get a better look at it to maybe sort of figure out how his body was transformed, and what it's made of now (metal, magic, a third secret thing, idk)

so it looks like, in general, his skeletal structure and the metal parts in his back brace and his leg brace were fused together and then fused *into* his musculoskeletal structure, not just sort of copied by the hexcore. You can see here he has actual bolts in his spine before he got robot-ified, and to me it seems like this could have been a way for his brace to hook or snap onto his spine more securely to give him extra support.

I think the circles in the middle of the brace over his sternum might have also snapped into bolts in his chest, and you can see them better here

the cloth and leather parts of the brace have either dissolved or been turned into metal.

--I just want to take a side note here to note what im sure other ppl have mentioned but I haven't seen talked much about at least recently, is that viktor's disability wasn't just his mobility issues and bad respiratory health, that he must have been in terrible pain to have a procedure as extreme as bolts being put into his spine and/or chest deemed necessary / beneficial to his quality of life.

In the scene where he tries to destroy the hexcore, he can barely push himself up, and it takes all of his strength to lift a stool over his head that's only a few pounds :(

He later asks jayce to destroy the hexcore because he can't, and ive seen most people interpret that as him not wanting to destroy his life's work, but i always viewed it as him not physically being able to--the hexcore was too strong, and it snapped out at him and knocked him over just at the threat of him destroying it.

That circles over to another thing i thought was interesting, is that when he comes out of the goop he still seems very weak and unstable, even though he now has his back brace and leg brace fused to his skeleton. He still has to use his crutch to walk toward jayce and make effort to straighten his legs, because they're still twisted. It makes me wonder if the hexcore didn't so much heal him as dull his sense of pain so he couldn't feel it, and its energy forced him to move.

That's something i thought was interesting, and it made me think of his line about not feeling cold--he then says he feels something that is exactly how I'd describe coldness to somebody who's never felt it before, it just seems like now, his nervous system doesn't process it in the same way as he used to recognize the sensation of coldness. Interestingly, he still describes it as "unpleasant"

back to the design of viktor's body: what exactly is it made of? Here's where the body horror aspect of it comes in, because i think there's a possibility that's still mostly his body and what we're seeing here is exposed, preserved muscle fiber, because the hexcore either burned or melted off his skin or it literally rotted away while he was in the goop. There's a few artsy little flourishes from the hexcore magic peeking through, but except for the slightly darker color, it looks eerily like how muscle fiber on preserved cadavers looks, down to the way the little filamenty veins are. Granted it could just be a metallic structure the hexcore created, visually mimicking human muscle structure. Or the sourdough starter could have been something super gross like magic sentient cosmic energy formaldehyde--that also makes sense to me because of how when his hair grew out some of the tips had lost color, like they'd been bleached.

anyway the visual aspect of his resurrected hexcore appearance that makes me think of a reanimated cadaver most was how strange and unsettling i found it that he's completely gray and glowing with purple sparks, is that for some reason he's still got a bellybutton and almost a normal skin-like surace to that part of his stomach.

On the other hand, his hip socket and the rest of his pelvis is bony and skeletal. You can kind of see his pelvis not being attached with muscle fiber to his hip socket in that lower corner, it looks the same atp as when he's in his cosmic form.

the jokes about "jayce hugged him with his whole ______ out!!!!" just make me sad bc obviously any extraneous soft tissue was completely obliterated, (I say obviously but idk how many ppl literally believe they were censoring human body parts here.)

Like, he doesn't even have fingernails anymore. The only reason he has a stomach still is because abdominal muscles are a skeletal support structure.

That gives the he heebie jeebies so good, honestly, and what an fascinating choice by the design team instead of giving him idk, age of ultron steel robot shaped abs, which i've seen a lot in like human--robot transformations, he's this horrifying mix of petrified/preserved cadaver tissue, magic metal, and sentient cosmic energy. (Even more tragic and sad if you think about it that way and that jayce might have been hugging his dead friend's preserved, skinned corpse)

the "reanimated corpse" idea fits into the interpretation that viktor's emotions and thoughts are still his, but they've been very dulled by the power of the hexcore, because a reanimated cadaver body isn't going to be able to work as effeciently that way anymore.

or idk maybe the idea that he was still sort-of there, faintly is one i like because it makes me feel better, i can at least pretend some part of him felt comforted being held in such a horrific situation. had to post this screenshot bc that sad little face when hes getting hugged is destroying me

Anyway. many thoughts, many feelings, many possibilities and interpretations. Do with this what you will. I, for instance, will be walking into the sea and never returning probably

#arcane spoilers #arcane #viktor #victor arcane #SDFJSDGH #jayce talis #sort of idk i don't rly talk much about jayce in this #long post #i am so sorry how long this is.#i gave up on meta or commentary posts a long time ago but i came back this once bc i feel like im going insane lol #kisses the design team on the mouth tbh #SPOILERS #body horror

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driflew · 5 months ago

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im talking abt witch au in a server so im posting another scene from it. this time Ren fuckign dies.

Martyn hears the fuss before he sees it. He’s looking for Ren—the dog ran off, but the sun has broken through the trees, so Martyn figures it’s not the dog he’s looking for anymore. Ren’s probably sitting naked in the forest somewhere, and as treatable as it would be, Martyn plans to find him before he catches a cold.

“Don’t let him up—you saw how big his claws were,” says a voice Martyn only sort of recognizes, though what he says is…

“I’m not stupid. I’m not taking any risks with this thing—I’m not catching whatever he’s got,” another voice, even less familiar.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” this voice, Martyn cannot mistake—Ren.

Martyn steps a bit closer. He’s just outside the edge of the clearing, ducking behind a tree. Not immediately obvious to anyone in the center, though Martyn can see Ren from his hiding place. He’s surrounded by a few men—Martyn doesn’t know their names, but he knows them to be some of Ren’s neighbors. Most of them steer clear of Ren, but one has his boot on the back of Ren’s neck.

Ren’s hands are muddy. There’s dirt under his nails and across his stomach. Hair falls around his face, and blood stains his teeth and chin. He looks like an animal, and Martyn’s heart hurts looking at him.

“Must be full from whatever you already ate, you piece of shit,” the first voice says, and Martyn hears Ren make a choked noise of pain—the man must be increasing the pressure. “Whose blood is that?!”

“No one’s!” Ren’s wheezing, just a bit, “I caught a deer, that’s all.”

“A deer never satisfies a thing like you.”

Ren is caught and there’s no doubt about it, and that means there’s nothing left Martyn can do for him. His cloak is dark, and though the rising sun means it won’t help him hide as well, it’s still effective. If Martyn slips away now, he’ll… he can…

“My cousin had a wolfman in his town. He said it didn’t stop hunting until it had found a man big enough to chew on until the sun rose again.”

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t,” Ren insists, “You know me, I’ve lived here since I was born. I wouldn’t. You know that!”

Martyn tugs his hood on, biting the inside of his mouth. He needs to leave, but leaving Ren is…

“Oh, sure,” scoffs someone else, “And I knew you were human, too. But you’ve turned, and you can't trust a wolf.”

Ren actually whimpers, a sound Martyn has only ever heard him make as the dog. It hurts to hear, but it has Martyn taking an uncertain step to the side, unsure if he wants to run away.

He threw Ren to the wolves the first time Ren came to him in order to protect himself—he could have cured Ren, but he didn’t, wanting to keep from the magic he’d have to use for a cure being discovered and reported.

Ren wouldn’t have reported him. He knows that now. If he’d cured Ren, this wouldn’t be happening.

…But it is. Ren is doomed, and what can Martyn even do? He’s not a hero. He’s barely—

“Hey!” someone calls. Martyn’s head snaps up, and he locks eyes with the owner of the voice. “There’s someone else there! Who are you?!”

Martyn takes a step back, but the nearest man grabs him by the arm, yanking him into the light. Ren twists his head under the boot on his neck, and his face pales as Martyn is dragged into the light.

“Christ, do you mind?! Jeez!” Martyn says, shaking the man’s hand off. He brushes his sleeve, annoyed—he’s doing his absolute best to play the part of a random passerby, “What on earth is going on here? I came out to collect some medicinal herbs, and you’ve got some guy under your… is that Ren?”

“Used to be. Wolf’s curse has him now. Who knows how long ago he turned,” someone says, “Dunno if you’ve ever really met Ren, Doctor.”

“You’re collecting herbs, you said?” another says, “Why don’t you have any in your basket?”

Martyn looks down and bites back a swear. All he brought was food, water, and a cloak and some loose pants for Ren—obvious ties, and a clear contradiction to his alibi.

“Yeah, just woke up and came out for them, though I haven’t found any,” Martyn says, “Easiest to look for by sunlight.”

“You know, Doctor, I heard something weird about you,” says the one with a shoe on Ren’s neck. Ren lets out a choked noise, another pound of pressure on his spine. “I heard you were seen with the wolf a few months ago.”

“What? Like, Ren?” Martyn asks, playing innocent, “Sure, Ren comes to my stand, but I thought he was sick…?”

“Not at your stand. In the night,” the man says, “I heard you’re fraternizing with rabid animals. You’re a witch.”

Martyn laughs, a touch nervous, “A witch? No. I’m a great doctor and all, but I’m not magic.”

“You were commanding the wolf-thing, making it obey you. Only a witch could do that,” the man insists, “Joseph’s wife saw you. She looked out the window at the awful beast and saw it knock your hood down before it submitted to your command.”

“That’s— your friend’s wife must have mistaken me for someone else,” Martyn says.

“My wife knows what she saw!” says a man who must be Joseph, not that Martyn cares to turn around and check which one that is.

“You’ve been spending time with him even when he’s not in the form of a monster,” someone says, and Martyn sweats. He should have kicked Ren out, he should have decided not to check on Ren that night, he should have—

“Martyn’s helping me with the other symptoms,” Ren’s voice cuts through Martyn’s spiraling. Martyn’s head snaps down to watch as Ren attempts to look up at his captors. “I didn’t tell him about my— my curse. He didn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

“Doesn’t make him not a witch.”

“He’s not!” Ren insists, “He’s a friend I lied to. Nothing else.”

“The witch was commanding him,” says another man, taking a step closer to Martyn. There’s an axe in his hand, still clean. “He must be commanding Ren now. Why else would Ren defend him?”

“He didn’t do anything!” Ren insists, “I swear. I swear, Martyn hasn’t used any magic. Please leave him alone, please.”

Martyn looks down at Ren begging on the ground and his stomach turns with nausea. Ren isn’t prideful, exactly, but like this he seems to have no pride at all.

It shreds Martyn inside to see him like that. Even now, it’s not his own life he’s begging for—Ren wants to protect Martyn. Christ, and Martyn had been about to leave him.

Martyn knows how it’ll make him look, but he pulls the cloak out of his basket and steps toward Ren.

“I’m not going to do anything,” Martyn says, holding up the cloak to show the men, “But c’mon. He’s not an animal. Ren’s always been a good man. Let him have some semblance of his dignity before you kill him.”

“Careful,” the man with a foot on Ren says, “This isn’t Ren anymore. If you’d seen the claws on him…”

“I’ll be careful,” Martyn says, “Just let him up a second. He’s got no claws anymore.”

The man with a foot on Ren’s neck stares, then releases their hold on him. Martyn only hesitates a moment before kneeling in front of Ren, throwing the cloak over him like a blanket.

“Sit up,” Martyn whispers, dropping his hand to Ren’s hair. He threads his fingers through for barely a moment before removing them, “Don’t die lying down in the dirt.”

Ren does as he’s told, sitting up and pulling the cloak around his front. He doesn’t look much better—he’s still dirty, with a bloody chin and knotted hair—but at least he can claim some small piece of pride.

The way he looks at Martyn is devastating. This close, Martyn can see the sad, guilty eyes, the defeated hang of his shoulders. Martyn may have known he was doomed when he saw him here, but it’s another thing to see defeat so obvious on the face of someone so stubborn and headstrong as Ren.

Martyn actually gets up and takes a step back—he can’t be that close to Ren looking at him like that.

The man who had been standing on Ren earlier drops his sword down, holding the edge below Ren’s neck. Ren doesn’t flinch—less an admirable display of courage, and more a simple acceptance of what’s to come.

“So, Doctor, why did you have that with you?” the man asks, “You’re already wearing a cloak. You wouldn’t carry it unless you knew someone would need it.”

Martyn looks at his basket. There’s still a pair of pants in there, making his alibi tricky.

“I did know he’d need it,” Martyn admits, quiet.

“I told him. I asked him to bring it. I didn’t tell him why,” Ren lies again, fingers tight on the edge of the cloak.

“Like hell! He was with you, wasn’t he?!” the man says.

“The wolf defending him is proof. He must be brainwashed by the witch’s magic,” another man says.

“Monsters have to stick together. Just get rid of them both!”

“No,” Martyn says, “Look, Ren, I appreciate you lying for me, but you don’t have to. I did know about Ren’s affliction, but we were treating it as just that—an illness. I’ve been trying to help him treat it for the past few months. I never commanded him, never spent a night with him, but we’ve tried a few medicines to lessen the effects of the moon on him and keep him in check. I knew, but not because I’m a witch. I’m a doctor, and Ren came to me as a patient looking for a cure. That’s all.”

“Why wouldn’t you just report him?!”

“Like I said,” Martyn says, taking another step back, “Ren’s always been a good man.”

Someone grabs Martyn’s arm, stopping him from moving any further back.

“Good enough to make yourself this damn suspicious for?” he asks, “Because the way I see it, you protected him ‘cuz you’re a witch, and he’s your bitch.”

Martyn resists the urge to cringe at the taunt, trying his best to maintain that aloof doctor facade he’s been wearing so effortlessly for years. He scoffs, folding his arms.

“No one is good enough to make myself this suspicious over. Especially not some wolfman I just met,” Martyn says, “But could you imagine how much money I’d have made if I’d actually cured him? There’s no one else in the world who could do that. I could charge anything I wanted for it. I saw the chance and I took it, but clearly, it hasn’t paid off.”

Ren says nothing, face unreadable, and Martyn scrambles to make it clear he’s lying.

“Hell,” Martyn adds, gesturing one arm at Ren, “I could charge Ren anything I wanted. He couldn’t not pay what I asked—at best, I would stop trying to cure him. At worst, I could report what he was to everyone. Shame it had to end this way, though.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you,” Ren whispers. There’s a venom to it Martyn has never seen from Ren before, far more convincing than Martyn expects. Ren’s head snaps up, and the pain in his eyes has a fire behind it now, “You were supposed to help me!”

“I would’ve! But I don’t want to be a small town doctor forever,” Martyn says, “The city’s much nicer. I almost have enough to open my own practice, and a few more, er… we’ll say treatments for you would have helped a lot. Especially if any of them had actually worked.”

“Is that all you wanted from me? My money?” Ren asks.

“I mean, sure. What’s a wolfman need with money, anyway?” Martyn asks, “Your lot never live long. Do you mind if I collect your estate after this? It’s not much anymore, but it’d be really nice to sell the rest.”

“Bastard,” Ren spits.

“That doesn’t sound like a no,” Martyn says, and Ren bares his teeth into a snarl. Almost immediately, the sword at his neck cuts into his flesh, turning his growl into a sound of pain.

“Stop riling him up,” the man says, “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Right,” Martyn says, putting up his arms and taking another step back. If they knew Ren like he does, they’d know the answer is nothing. Ren wouldn’t hurt any of them.

Not that Ren defends himself. He keeps glaring at Martyn, and though it hurts, it’s better than the despair.

“We need him dead. We’ve stalled long enough already,” the man holding Martyn’s arm says.

“Just run him through already!” says someone behind him.

“Drown him, wolves can’t swim,”

“Yes they can! You have to burn them.”

“That’s witches, idiot!”

Ren seems a bit paler as they argue. Martyn can only imagine how he feels—these are neighbors he’s known all his life, and now they’re debating his manner of death right in front of him. It’s the end of the line, and a gruesome one at that.

“No! All of you are wrong. You have to cut its head off,” someone else yells, “Wolfmen are sturdy, they don’t die any other way.”

“Hey, Doctor,” the man with the sword says. “Do you ever treat animals?”

“Occasionally,” Martyn says, unsure if he likes the question.

“Have you ever put down a dog?”

“What?” Martyn asks. His callous costume slips for a moment, though he’s quick to put it back on. “Sure, once or twice. I don’t usually bother with treating dogs, though.”

“You bothered with a wolf.”

“A lucrative wolf. People don’t pay as much for dogs as they would themselves,” Martyn says, “Medicine doesn’t generalize that much, you know. I don’t know how to treat anything on an animal beyond stitching up a wound.”

“Sure, sure,” the man says, “But everything dies the same. Even wolfmen. Even witches.”

Martyn narrows his eyes. “I’m not a witch.”

“Prove it, then,” the man says. He pulls his sword away, offering it to Martyn. “Kill the wolfman. If he really means nothing to you, it should be easy. Otherwise, I’ll assume you’re a witch in league with him.”

“I don’t even know how to, to— what do you even want me to do?” Martyn asks.

“You’ve chopped firewood, haven’t you?” the man asks, “It’s probably like that.”

Martyn stares at Ren a long time, but Ren isn’t looking at him. His knuckles are white, and at the hem, his hand shakes.

If Martyn can do nothing else for Ren, he can at least make this quick.

“If it’s like firewood,” Martyn says, “Give me an axe.”

— — —

They set Ren up on an old stump. It’s a bit too tall, and the position he takes the lean his neck against it is awkward, undignified. Most of what they do leading up to his death is—letting him keep the cloak is the only reprieve they afford him. No one lets him wipe the blood from his mouth or pull the twigs from his hair. He’s barely even let off the ground to move to his chopping block—it would be too easy to run on his own two feet, and so he’s made to crawl.

Martyn is the final person willing to even to use Ren’s name.

“Part your hair, Ren,” Martyn instructs, “I don’t want to miss.”

Ren is allowed to do that, at least, pulling his hair away to clear up the skin there. Martyn tugs down the back of the cloak himself, letting his fingers linger at the base of Ren’s spine, looking at what, exactly, he’s about to do.

His throat is pressed against old bark, putting him at an odd angle. Martyn says nothing, another of many decisions he’ll come to regret.

“Okay,” Martyn mutters, lifting the axe, “Any last words?”

Ren closes his eyes. “I’ll see you in Hell, Doctor.”

It should sound like an insult, but Martyn knows it isn’t. It doesn’t make it any easier.

Martyn swings. The angle is crooked, diagonal against Ren’s bent neck. Martyn knows he’s fucked it when he hears the sound Ren makes: a choked scream, loud enough to startle the birds and as pained as it is wet.

Martyn rips the axe out of his flesh. Blood streams down the blade and onto the cloak, but Martyn ignores it. Ren begins to sag and Martyn panics, slamming it back down. This angle is worse, and Ren cries a second time. His body shudders, patches of hair appearing on his shoulders and down his arms. There’s shouting behind Martyn, but he doesn’t process the words.

Ren is in pain. The wolf has only ever wanted to protect him, to soothe him. He’s scared and in pain and the wolf wants to help and it’s Martyn that’s causing it.

Martyn slams the axe down a third time. Ren makes no noise, at least, or maybe it’s drowned out by the splatter of blood, or the axe hitting bone, or bark snapping under the grip of Ren’s claws.

Martyn’s hands and chest and legs are covered in it. He’ll probably never feel clean again.

Rip. Raise. Swing. Rip. Raise. Swing.

It takes a total of five blows before Martyn hits wood, Ren’s head falling away onto the dirt.

His body slumps against the wood, leaving blood smeared all down the bark. Like a spider’s legs curling in death, the claws and fur retract as the life leaves him. He looks smaller like that, crumpled against the ground.

He’s dead. Ren is dead, and Martyn murdered him.

Martyn processes very little about the next few moments. He’s only seen a few bodies in his life, but this is the worst yet. Ren had been kind beyond anyone Martyn had ever met, and Martyn had killed him. If Martyn had cured him, if Martyn had sedated him, if Martyn had stepped in and saved him, if—

“—tor, Doctor!” Martyn snaps back to attention. The man with the sword is in front of him, and he actually looks concerned.

“He’s— I’m so, you—” Martyn doesn’t know what he’s saying. Ren is dead and he wants to apologize and he wants to curse this man’s entire bloodline to ends twice as gruesome and violent. He feels small, smaller than Ren against that stump. He feels like a kid again, trying not to sob as he’s carried away from Jay’s smoldering house. His vision is blurring already, and his hands are shaking so bad that he can barely hold the axe.

“Jesus, you look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I am,” Martyn says, honest. He hears the axe fall to the ground, though he’s not aware of letting it go.

“Haven’t you, like, done surgery?” the man asks.

“That— it’s, not like that,” Martyn says, “They don’t— they don't bleed that much. They’re not— they don’t feel— they don’t make noise.”

He hears someone behind him say something like ‘can’t be a witch with such a weak stomach.’ Jay had a weak stomach, too. Was no good at hurting anyone, not even if he wanted to. Not even to defend himself.

Just like Ren. Not like Martyn.

Martyn had always thought, if he’d only had the power he has now, he’d have leapt to Jay’s defense. He’s always told himself he’d have saved the only person who ever loved him, comforted himself with versions of the world where he and Jay escaped.

Ren didn’t love him, but Ren had made himself the only other person who’d gotten so far as to like him. And Martyn hadn’t just let him die, no—Martyn had killed Ren himself.

What was the point of all this power if Martyn is still a coward? How did he let it happen again? When did he lose sight of what he’d gained it all for?

What can he do with it now?

“Take a seat, man,” the man says, and Martyn shakes his head—if he sits now, he’ll never get the nerve to move again.

What can he do with his magic? There must be some way to fix this. Martyn is a healer, better than any other. There must be some spell for sutures or blood or bone, something that could fix this, something that could bring Ren back to h—

…Something that could bring Ren back.

Martyn looks up, finally meeting the man’s eyes. He’s still shaking, but he gathers what determination he can.

“Let— let me bury him,” Martyn says.

“What?”

“Let me,” Martyn tries again, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “Let me bury him.”

“Why the hell would you bury a wolfman?”

“So he, his body,” Martyn’s determined, but the adrenaline in his body has him scrambled. It’s hard to think, to speak, “It’ll infect the, the wolves, if— if they eat it, the local wolves, they’ll, if we just—”

The man raises a hand, cutting him off.

“So we’ll burn it,” the man says. Martyn shakes his head.

“I need to, to be the one to,” Martyn says, and when he can’t explain himself, he tacks on the one bit of magic even humans recognize: “Please.”

“No graveyard will take a wolfman,” the man says.

“I’ll bury him out here,” Martyn says, “Please.”

“Why does this matter so much to you?” the man asks, “Don’t tell me you feel guilty.”

“I’ve never— I’ve never lost a patient before,” Martyn says, almost a whisper. The man’s face actually softens. He believes Martyn to be a human doctor, after all, simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He sets a hand on Martyn’s shoulder, sympathetic.

“I know he looked human, but that thing wasn't human anymore,” he says, “You don’t have to feel bad. It was us or him.”

Martyn doesn’t want to be us with this man. Being safe with these people isn’t worth this. It wasn’t worth Jay. Martyn has paid so steeply for this safety and belonging, and it was never worth a goddamned thing.

“Ren’s always— always been a good man,” Martyn says, “Just— I need to do this. Let me do this. Please.”

The man sighs, squeezing Martyn’s shoulder. “If this is what you need to sleep tonight.”

It isn’t. If only it were so simple as ever sleeping again.

“Thank you,” Martyn says anyway.

— — —

The first thing Martyn does is close Ren’s eyes.

He doesn’t look at them. He has no idea what Ren’s expression looks like because he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t check, instead focusing on picking him up.

He picks Ren’s head up first, gentle, respectful as he can be. He doesn’t take Ren by his hair or hold him by the face, instead cupping Ren’s chin in his hands. Ren’s hair cascades down his arms unobstructed, wet strands and the drenched wound coating Martyn’s sleeves in even more blood.

Next, Martyn empties the basket. That’s careless—Martyn dumps everything on the ground without even looking. The only thing he picks back up is the pants, which he lays down on the base of the basket, just to give Ren a bit of a cushion when he rests him inside.

Martyn sets his head down gently, leaning on his cheek. Though he tries to put Ren’s hair inside the basket, plenty of it spills out over the edges.

Once Ren is secure, he sets the basket in the crook of his arm, and he moves to the rest of him.

Ren’s body is still curled against the stump. The bleeding has slowed, but it hasn’t stopped entirely.

First, Martyn lays Ren’s body on his back. He covers Ren as best he can with the cloak, wrapping him carefully in the dark fabric. It’s difficult to see blood on, at least, though his stained neck is impossible to miss. Martyn has to be careful as he bends down, hooking his arms under Ren’s knees and back without tipping Ren’s head out of his basket.

Ren is light when Martyn finally stands. Martyn’s already exhausted—staying up all night hadn’t done him any favors, nor had his awful morning—but he notices that. Ren had been a lumberjack before he… got sick. He must’ve lost the muscle at some point, though Martyn hadn’t noticed.

Martyn rubs his thumb against Ren’s shoulder through the fabric of his cloak. His body is still warm.

“It’s going to be okay, Ren,” he whispers, unable to care about being overheard. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything. I promise.”

He doesn’t apologize—as much as he wants to, Martyn holds his tongue. Now isn’t the time for apologies.

Martyn will save it until Ren can hear it.

#lew writes #witch au #traffic smp #(if youre wondering who the other character Martyn mentions is. oc dad character)#(server in question already knows who he is but just trust me)#(just rlly love that robot dad from the hero villain fic okay--)

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wils-cosmos · 4 months ago

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MORE SABO AU??

HELL YEAH!!

Okay so i’ve been seeing so many (ie: two) fanfics of feral ASL brothers and the traits they have from being jungle children, WHICH i eat up every time, but something needs to be said about Sabo.

Sabo was raised as a noble child, had probably gone to etiquette class since he was old enough to understand it. HOWEVER, Sabo had always hated it.

Something in him was different, wanted to be free. He DENOUNCES his noble up bringing, and fakes his death. He runs away from regular life, his noble life, and becomes a jungle child.

Sabo unlike his brothers who got mellower over the years, he got MORE feral. More chaotic. The Sabo who lost his inhibitions is more feral than how he was as a child. More feral and chaotic than ace. People REALLY should go into this more with fanfics.

I derive away from canon here.

Sabo had always been different than the other noble children, more wild. Being noble, rough housing was unheard of, Sabo didn’t understand.

Younger animals rough house to show their affection, so depriving A wild sabo this right?

Sabo couldn’t help but want to get rough and wild, and tumble outside in the garden. Couldn’t help but want someone to tussle with. But that’s not how noble children did things.

Since he was little Sabo had known he was different from others. He felt more at home in the garden than he did with his own parents.

Sabo’s parents knew he was a wild thing, they did everything in their power to ‘curb’ these instincts, however humans were powerless against the jungles call.

Perhaps that’s why Sabos parents had “Loved” Stelly like they did. A son unclaimed by the jungle? A breath of fresh air. So much easier to c̶o̶n̶t̶r̶o̶l̶ love.

Sabo had always been wild, feral if you will. He had just learned to suppress that part of himself. However, you don’t ignore the call of the jungle.

When Sabo had e̶s̶c̶a̶p̶e̶d̶ left c̶a̶g̶e̶ his house, he had turned into what his ‘parents’ referred to as a “street rat” However… something about the jungle would call to him. Certain behaviors Sabo’s parents had ‘curbed’ started to take place again.

Sabos wild behavior started to take on a feral edge. Sabo would hoard his treasure and the food he could scavenge, if someone came to take any of his treasure… Sabo became dangerous.

The longing for the jungle started to become even stronger, the more time spent not repressing these feral urges and behaviors until eventually Sabo gave in. And that led Sabo to meet another jungle child.

When Sabo and Ace meet, it’s like looking into a distorted mirror, for Sabo.

Ace was jungle raised, he had been the jungles child since he was a newborn. He had grown up there, adapted and changed as the animals around him have. A wild feral thing, who gave into the instincts.

Sabo confuses Ace, he moves like those stiff nobles, he dresses like the people who call him the ‘devil’ and ‘the little monster of the jungle’, but… the look in sabo’s eyes Ace sees it in his own reflection. The way Sabo behaves, a bit hesitant, but still ilk recognizes ilk, Sabo is a child of the jungle. He has been claimed.

OKAY SO IM ENDING IT HERE!!

IDK IF ANYONE WANTS THIS OR IM BEING DELUSIONAL. SHOULD I MORE???

#i might be delusional #but i love sabo so idc #AND FERAL ASL?? I LOVE THEM #Most of the time people only do ace and luffy though #WHEN SABO IS RIGHT THERE #Ace chilled tf put SABO THIUGH??? He got worse 😭#revolutionary sabo #op sabo #sabo #asl brothers #one piece #FERAL ASL #feral au

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yellow-yarrow · 3 months ago

Text

(copied from the Summer Eternal website for better readability:)

Summer Eternal Manifesto

On this day the 11th of October 2024, we announce SUMMER ETERNAL. We recognize we are writing the opening words of our story at a time of apocalyptic material conditions for game creators across the world.

Our art has been dressed down into an industry, and this industry has been pilfered by corrupt executives, by the vulgar profiteering of corporate bodies moving like leviathans in the dark, burning human fuel in their insatiable lust for money.

It is not pencil-pushers and moneylenders who make games. It is the relentless passion of the workers that creates an art form capable of saying something true.

As creators and game makers, we have too long been led away from the truth, away from the right to define ourselves as artists in service of the definitive art form of the future, one that has made us dream since we were children.

Instead, the disposability culture operating at the ruthless core of this industry wants us to think of ourselves as cogs in the machine: rudimentary craftsmen, disposable career workers, inert producers of made-to-order marketing-driven "content" — empty calories leaving the soul hungry.

The Profiteer knows that by keeping your dignity low, he will keep you crawling on the treadmill of passion until he lays you off for the sake of the red number in his book.

We make games because we have to. It is our calling. Because we have no choice but to see the transformative potential of this youngest medium of human interaction. You can't turn away once you've seen the light, Or it will always feel like everyone else in the world is doing something without you, there in the light you try to abandon but can't, because — oh, the horror — it comes from inside you.

All art is communication — dialogue across time, space and thought. In its rawest, it is one mind’s ability to provoke emotion in another. Large language models — simulacra, cold comfort, real-doll pocket-pussy, cyberspace freezer of an abandoned IM-chat — which are today passed off for “artificial intelligence”, will never be able to offer a dialogue with the vision of another human being.

Machine-generated works will never satisfy or substitute the human desire for art, as our desire for art is in its core a desire for communication with another, with a talent who speaks to us across worlds and ages to remind us of our all-encompassing human universality. There is no one to connect to in a large language model. The phone line is open but there’s no one on the other side.

The peddlers who aim to get rich quick from this scheme will always PLAY THE FOOL to any ethical or artistic argument. This is why we must push back against Big Tech's encroachment on the territory of our art, against increasing corporatization and alienation of game creators from their work, against the robbery of rights from workers, performers, artists and all contributors to this complicated and MULTI-FACETED medium.

Our mission is to unite world-class artists and creatives in a truly independent game studio which will always prioritize artistic integrity over personal comfort, profit margin, short term interests and Big Tech profit-bubbles.

There we will be able to embark on that treacherous road of building a cultural megaproject, a Role Playing Game with complexity and ambition worthy to rival our wretched and wonderful world.

In this we are committed to pursue the highest caliber of literary quality.

Here we stand, bound by our love for games and devotion to our craft, ready to bleed and weep and ride the cavalry into machine gun fire one more time.

For this we will need all the support and help from you, our readers, colleagues and future visionaries. Come walk the desert with us.

We will not take any of your support for granted. We have seen the suffering wrought by the hunger for power, the terror of greed and envy, the complicity of the averted eye. We have also seen the triumph of the human spirit, of solidarity in the striving, of making something never before seen and seeing its miracle unfold in the world. We have seen poverty, and we have seen plenty. We will make mistakes, we will win and we will fail, but we will never forget what we are doing this for. Yours in every season,

SUMMER ETERNAL

#summer eternal #za/um #disco elysium

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inkspottie · 4 months ago

Note

going as anon today because i think half of your followers have already gotten to know me way too well from all of the drawings i keep sending, but even if it’s probably too much to ask, i would literally DIE for a small 50-60 word max snippet of what was going through Eve’s head when she saw into Gabriels memories while she was trying to make him and Anzu look at her and found memories of human Seb

like i’m literally flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water

spottie i will buy you a goddamm crown with your name engraved on it just pLEASEEEEEE IM DYING OVER HERE

Eve was a brilliant creature. A being yanked from the animal world and brought into a new consciousness. Ascending from her plane of existence, feeling, thinking. She had emotions, thoughts, worries.

With all that she had, she still couldn’t understand. Her mind was constantly changing, she couldn’t keep up with the things these humans continued to do to her.

Just a simple shark now having the ability to peer into one’s mind, being able to destroy you from the inside and out.

After the escape, she thought about leaving. Her instincts beckoned her to do so, but then again these new thoughts. These new ideas told her something else, that she had family. That she had a pup. Someone to take care of.

She could not be the way a human saw a mother, but she could be the support he needed. Sebastian. The creature who released her, helped her, and in turn she helped him.

“Keep them away from the crystal.” He had said, he needed time and she was happy to give it. These expendables were trying to get to it, and she would prevent them.

And she had a little friend to help. Painter. Yet another victim of this horrible facility. While he was organic, he was not. A machine. Who thought and felt just like she did.

He had access to doors, often shutting them so Eve could come in and kill whoever was trapped.

It was a fun little game they had. Never speaking but enjoying each others company.

This was supposed to be no different. Three victims, three new bodies. One was already peering into her eyes, but the other they were resisting. Eventually she would be able to get them.

She extends her powers, tendrils reaching and grasping through the folds of their mind. Finding family, mothers, sisters, brothers anything that would coax them to look. Whispering words of encouragement.

A mother, a sister…and then…someone. Someone familiar.

Gabe. The voice whispers. A familiar voice. One she recognizes.

This causes her to stutter, digging deeper into this stranger’s mind. Flashes of images hit her, seeing a face that is so familiar that it nearly sends her flying back into her own head.

Sebastian.

Human Sebastian, one she only seen when soothing the wounds of her pup, her child. Mere glimpses of what he was. This man knew him. This man called for him. Begging for mercy.

This was new to her, and for a moment she falters. Panicked and trembling she pulls away, darting off to find a spot where she could think.

Now this…this complicated things much more than she ever could imagine.

She must tell Sebastian.

#spottie writes #I’d like my crown please #and it’s definitely more than 60 words #Eyefestation #confluence

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justmeinadaze · 1 year ago

Text

Children of the Night Part 7 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Some of my own personal damage has entered the angsty chat lol Enjoy!

Warnings: Vampire Daddy Eddie/ Sub Vampire Stevie/ Sub Human Fem Reader, SMUT, dp, dirty talk, biting (obviously), mentions of blood drinking (yeah they're vampires), etc, FLUFF, they love each other :), ANGST!! (because Im me), Slight Child Abuse Trigger, we meet reader mom finally and goes about as well as you would think, mentions of feeling like/being a burden (I'm noticing a theme in my writing *thinks*), Eddie touches briefly on his childhood and his dad being in jail, these three get into a bit of a fight, I believe that be it.

Word Count: 6015

Series Here

That following morning after they fell asleep, you snuck out of their house and drove away in no particular direction. You needed to get away not because you were afraid of them or anything but because you were utterly terrified of getting them hurt again or worse. You loved them too much to allow that happen so you reverted to your default and ran.

You had many hiding spots around the city including the bar you were sitting in. Whenever your mom would come home in a mood or bring home a guy that made your skin crawl you went to one of these places. This bar allowed you entry even when you were underage because the owner knew one of the boys you had run with. As you got older he said you were always welcome to hang out should you need to.

A part of you hoped you were far enough away that both boys wouldn’t sense you especially since as night fell, you couldn’t feel Steve at all. Part of you thought you’d feel anger or sadness but more than anything all you felt was guilt.

The band in front of you begins to play a song you recognize and your heart breaks as you try to subpress the tears that want to fall by knocking back another shot.

A cold hand taps your shoulder and without saying a word your eyes lock with Steve while Eddie silently takes a seat in front of you. The newly made vampire tugs on your bicep but when you subtly shake your head, he tugs you again until you rise to your feet and walk with him to the makeshift dance floor.

“Tears stream down your face When you lose something you cannot replace Tears stream down your face, and I.”

Wrapping his arms around your back, your hands cling to his shoulders as you force yourself to look anywhere that isn’t his face.

“Tears stream down your face I promise you I will learn from my mistakes Tears stream down your face, and I.”

Your bottom lip trembles as images of the last few days flash through your mind including the sight of him bleeding on your bedroom floor and Eddie’s panicked voice when he thought the man he loved may be gone.

“Lights will guide you home And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you.”

Feeling your pain, Steve’s palm pressed you into his chest as his arms circled tighter around you while he listened to you cry. He kissed the top of your head while you both swayed and rested his cheek in your hair.

As the song ended and people in the bar clapped, you hastily pushed him back and headed towards the table to grab your things. You thought Eddie would try and stop you but he didn’t, his eyes watching you with what felt like pity.

Slamming open the bar door, you inhaled the warm but breezy night air before heading for your car. Wind whipped around you and suddenly the metalhead was blocking your entry into your vehicle.

“Move, please.”

“You’ve been drinking. I’m not letting you drive. You may walk if you wish.”

“You’re not in charge of me anymore, Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah? I didn’t get that memo. Is that why you left without a word?”

“I’m allowed to come and go as I please.”

“Not after someone tried to murder you yesterday. It’s our job to take care of you.”

Rolling your eyes, you stomp off towards sidewalk near the beach as they followed close behind.

“Leave me alone!”, you shout as you try to walk faster. “I don’t want to be with either of you anymore!”

Your hair blew in front of your face as Steve appeared in front of you blocking your path.

“Ok. You don’t want to be with us anymore. That’s fine but it’s not going to stop us from looking after you to make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m not your responsibility! Trust me. You don’t want that burden.”

“Interesting word choice. Did your mother teach you that?”, Eddie replied in a snark filled tone. “Because, princess, you aren’t a burden. We like taking care of you.”

“Oh, so, these past couple of nights have been fun for you?! Watching him bleed to death and then changing him was exciting, Eddie? All the pain you went through was fantastic, Steve?!”

“What happened wasn’t your fault, Y/N.”

“YES IT IS! If you two had never met me you would have had no reason to be at my house!”

“Then you would be DEAD!”, Steve growled loudly, his eyes turning black with anger as he stepped forward.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok. Calm down.”, the metalhead coos as he rubs his boyfriend’s back trying to comfort him. “I think you forget, little one, how all this started. Remember, I told you I always felt you. I don’t know why and I can’t control it. I felt it with Steve even before I turned but it was stronger after. If everything had played out the same way, we would have gotten involved. Each time those assholes went looking for you, they intended to kill you and I will NOT allow anyone to hurt you like that.”

As you three glare at each other, the cellphone in your pocket begins to vibrate.

“Hello?...Yeah, that’s me…um…ok. I’ll, um, I’ll be right there.”, you sigh as you slap the device. “Steve, what time is it?”

“8pm. Why? Why do you suddenly feel nervous?”

“Can one of you run me somewhere, please?”

“Where do you need to go, princess?”

Both set of eyes were now their regular color as they scanned you over with concern.

“LA General.”, you reply flatly.

***

“Alright, perfect and here are your visitors passes. Just let the officer outside know you’re the daughter and they will let you through.”, the nurse grinned as you grimly smiled back.

“Um, please don’t talk when we get in there. No matter what she says. Can you at least listen to me in that regard?”, you plead as you pause at the end of the hallway to address them.

After both boys nod, you continue along your way, telling the officer outside who you were before he opened the door and allowed you three entry.

“Hey there. Are you Y/N?”, the doctor asks, politely shaking your hand after you nod. “It looks like the prison brought her in because her wounds were too severe to for their staff to handle. The guards said she got into an altercation with one of the other inmates and was stabbed by a shiv in her side. With some surgery and lots of blood, she seems to be doing better. Part of the reason we called you at the time was because due to her medical history with her liver we thought we may need a family member to donate the matching blood type but it looks like we had the perfect type here.”

“When are they taking her back?”, you ask.

“Um, we need to keep an eye on her for the next couple of days but by the end of the week I imagine. She is a flight risk so we do have to…”, the doctor gestures towards her wrist and the handcuffs as you sigh.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. I appreciate it and I’m sure she does to.”

After leaving you alone, you take a seat by the hospital bed and both men do the same on opposite sides of you.

“Is this your…?”

“Yeah, Eddie, this is my mom.” Your sad eyes scan her over making Steve wince as he feels your pain heightens, still not used to these new vampire things he’s experiencing. “She’s been in and out for years but this is the first time she’s been stabbed. Must have really pissed someone off.”

“I’m surprised you’re listed on her contact sheet. I would have thought due to the charge she wouldn’t be allowed to see you.”, the metalhead mused.

“I’m an adult now. When I was a kid she wasn’t but that was for like 3 years. When she was sentenced to 30 years, I was about fifteen. She tried to escape a few years ago but they caught her pretty quickly. They had called me to notify me thinking she may be coming for me. They found her at a bar about four miles away.”, you chuckled before leaning back in your seat and glaring at the tile floor.

“I told you I’m not safe. People are always come for me. I never should have reached out to you guys. I should have left you alone—”

“No, no, Y/N. You should have. I know I’ve only been a vampire for a couple of days but this feeling I feel when it comes to you and Eddie…I don’t know how to explain it. When we woke up and you were gone…it felt like—”

“There’s a hole. Like something is missing.”, Eddie answered trying to help.

“Yeah. If this is what he was feeling for two years after moved here…God, I wish I had known. I would have done anything to help him find out what they were and then find you.

“I thought it was just normal. I love Steve so much but there was always that nagging feeling that somethingwas amiss. Even you said those first few nights, I smiled more and laughed when you were there.”

A tear fell down your cheek as you shook your head.

“You almost had that feeling again but worse because Steve was almost killed. I felt the things he experienced when he thought you were gone, Eddie. I can’t…I can’t do it. I love you both too much.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Did I die?”, your mother whines as she cringes opening her eyes. “Trust me, she’s right. She was always meant to get in the way and ruin lives. Seriously, ask the condom that broke when she was conceived.”

Both vampires growled but she was in too much of a haze to notice as she tried to sit up.

“What happened, mom? Why are people stabbing you now?”

“Because people keep trying to take what’s mine! Why are you even here, Y/N? Go away.”

“They called me because they thought they might need my blood since you’ve damaged all your other organs with years of alcohol. Blood that isn’t family’s surprising didn’t shock your system into shut down.”

“Always so fucking mouthy.”, she groans as she tries to reach for the call nurse button. “At least I can get some drugs.”

“Oh, mama. I’m sorry. Didn’t they tell you? As a ‘former alcoholic’ you don’t get the hard stuff but the Tylenol should be enough.”

At your sarcastic comment, Eddie and Steve felt both pain and satisfaction course through them as memories flashed through your mind.

“Get. OUT! I didn’t want you here then and I don’t now!”

“Don’t talk to her that way.”, the pretty boy snarled in a deep tone.

“Steve…please. You promised me.”, you plead.

“Sweetheart, she shouldn’t be talking to you like this and you shouldn’t allow it.”

“Shouldn’t allow it? Are you fucking kidding me?! She’s weak just like her father was. Why do you think she ran off constantly?! She could never stay and face the music of trouble she caused so she ran and opened her legs to anyone who would take her. I’m not surprised you two fell for it! NOW GE—”

The wind swirled around you as the lights in the room turned off except for the overhead lamp above her hospital bed. Both vampires were on either side of her with Eddie’s palm placed over her mouth.

“You know, I have a dad like you. Spent most of my life in and out of prison for petty crimes while abusing me and my mother. After she died, he just went out of control until they gave him life back home in Indiana. Thankfully, I had an uncle who took care of me after and then fell in love with a man who loved me for me. Unfortunately, your daughter didn’t have that. She spent her ENTIRE LIFE fighting for it up until a few weeks ago.”

“She seems to think all the bad things that have been happening are her fault. I wonder why that is.”, Steve asked rhetorically. “You don’t deserve her. Even now after everything you said she’s worried we’re going to kill you and, honestly, if she or Eddie wasn’t here I may have followed through with that.”

His eyes turned black in anger as her own widened in fear.

“Stop it. Leave her be.”, you beg. “Please.”

“Are you sure, baby girl?”, Eddie murmured before abruptly both sets of black eyes looked your way. “Lose the attitude, Y/N.”

“I didn’t say anything.” You glared at them with a fury of your own. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re going to do whatever the fuck you want anyway and I am NOT your baby girl. Not anymore.”

“You want us gone, honey? To ‘protect’ us?”, Steve growled as he began walking towards you. “Fine. Your wish is our punishment.”

Wind blew again and the lights blinked on leaving you and your mother alone.

“Jesus, this medication is a lot stronger than I realized.”, she sighed as you sat down again and began to sob.

##############

True to your request, they left you be and it killed you. Even worse, they hadn’t streamed at all in over two weeks so you weren’t able to even see their faces except in your dreams. Occasionally, you checked the chatter on their site doing the job they had paid you for while reading through people’s comments.

Most of their fans seemed to think the police had succeeded in scaring them away while others thought you were the reason saying that Mina must have talked them out of it for one reason or another.

A knock on your door one Saturday afternoon startled you but you were prepared, grabbing a nearby knife as you peaked through the curtain.

“Dustin? Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Hey, Y/N. May I come in? I swear it’s just me.” Nodding, you allowed the boy entry and gestured towards your couch for him to take a seat. “Oh, um, I won’t be here that long but I just came down to check on Eddie and Steve. Seems Harrington is struggling a bit with being a vampire. Not because of you or anything!”, he quickly countered when your head hung. “At least…I don’t think so.”, Dustin sighs as he leans against your kitchen counter.

“Mike and I did a ton of research after Steve said Eddie was still alive to try and get some explanation about why he is the way that he is without resorting to regular vampire lore but we couldn’t find anything outside of D&D. Over the past two years, he seems to follow the regular no sunlight, needs blood, and hates crosses but what I’ve always questioned is that feeling thing he’s mentioned.”

“I know in some comics when a vampire turns another they have a connection and can feel each other’s emotions or share memories kind of like what he told me happened after you drank his blood. What confuses me is, you and Steve weren’t turned when he felt you two.”

“Dustin, honey, why are you telling me this?”

The boy sighs again as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m thinking…that has to mean something, right? Whether it be chemical, cosmical, or supernatural… and the fact that Steve feels it to… that’s not a coincidence, Y/N. They both have been having a hard time and you can see it in their faces… I can see it in yours to.”

“They are streaming tonight. They are going to answer questions and just be seen. I think that will be good for them to get their minds focused on something. Maybe, you should do the same.”

After giving him a hug and walking him out, you sat in front of your computer screen and stared at the blank background for what felt like hours before heavily exhaling and logging into their site. People were a buzz with the fact that they would finally be seeing the vampire they adored so much and the human that took care of him. They had no idea.

Their grainy faces suddenly illuminated your moniter and your heart shattered into a million pieces. Steve didn’t look like the man you had met a couple of months ago but a shell of someone else. His skin was unbelievably pale and his hair hung in front of his eyes blocking a lot of his face from your view. His body folded into itself as the beautiful smile you had fallen in love with was noticeably absent. Eddie didn’t look any better as he quietly maneuvered the mouse in front of him as his black eyes scanned the screen.

“Hey…hey everybody. I know it’s been a while but, um, as you can see I’ve been taking care of Renfield. I…uh…I had to turn him so…”

StokersQueen: “Doesn’t Renfield die after he’s turned? Are we going to lose him?!”

“No…no we aren’t going to lose him. We’ve just been going through a lot right now.”

Dracula4ever: “Is it because of that bitch Mina? I notice she’s not there this time.”

Both men growled at the comment.

“Don’t disrespect her like that.”

Dracula4ever: “Oh please! This show used to be awesome but you bring in one slut and everything changes!”

Dracula4ever has been booted from the stream.

“Mina?”, Eddie asked as his eyes scanned the screen for any confirmation.

Babygirl85: “Come on, Mina! If you’re there, say something!”

Justhereironically: “MINA! <3”

InnocentLittleMina: “Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer--both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.”

The metalhead exhaled at your quote of the novel as the fans in chat went wild with awes and even more questions.

“Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds—”

“…true love.”, Steve finishes the quote with a deep tone that sounds nothing like his regular voice. “We miss you.”

“But we aren’t going to force you, sweetheart.”

Exhaling, they close their eyes as they feel all your emotions run through your body before finally landing on desperate wanting and immense love that you had never felt for anyone in your entire life.

InnocentLittleMina: “I’m scared. Seeing you two in so much pain… I love you so much. I don’t…”

“I know. I know, Mina, but what happened wasn’t your fault. Your mom and childhood weren’t your fault. All the idiot men in your life who hurt you wasn’t because of you. Even as a human, princess, I would have done the same things to protect you because we love you to.”

“You deserve all the love you give to people, honey. It’s ok to let us take care of you and believe me. Out of everything I’ve experienced, this…”, Steve gestures to himself. “…is nothing. I get what Dracula is saying now when it comes to us and our guilt. NONE of this is your doing or your fault.”

They both softly smile at the camera as Eddie leans towards it as if he’s looking into your eyes.

“Come back to Daddy, baby.”

You don’t even turn off your computer as you swivel in your chair and run towards the front door. Heavy rain hits your face as you search for your keys once you get to your car but ring laced hands abruptly grip your waist and after you blink you find yourself in their bedroom.

Need overtakes you three as they lay on either side of you and remove your wet clothes while kissing any part of your skin they could reach.

The sound of constant binging makes Eddie grunt in frustration as a grin stretches across your face.

“You—mmm—you left the sound on.”, you pant.

Steve’s lips kiss along that sweet spot on your neck as the other vampire whooshes to computer, cheekily smiling as he quickly moves the mouse.

“Sorry, guys. The three of us need to have a chat that doesn’t involve an audience.”

Getting annoyed with the machine in front of him, he yanks the cord from the wall before sprinting back beside you and attaching his mouth to your neck as well. Their hips grinded against your thighs as the pads of Steve’s fingers played with your clit.

After tilting back to remove his shirt, Eddie leans over your body and a long line of spit leaves his lips falling between your folds as the other boy collects it, pushing it into your pussy with his fingers making you groan.

The feeling of teeth against your thigh makes you jump and the metalhead’s black eyes meet yours as they silently ask for permission before you nod your approval. Tugging on Steve’s arm, he brings him between your legs, kissing him passionately as their fingers play with your cunt. Both their lips travel along opposite limbs, licking and lightly sucking their way up to your meaty flesh.

When their fangs penetrate your thighs at the same time, your eyes roll back as the pleasure courses through you. It wasn’t meant to feed, only to sustain as they snacked on your blood while their fingers moved faster against you; Eddie playing with your clit with his thumb while Steve quickly thrust his two digits into your center.

Coming off you with a pop, you watch as the long-haired vampire made sure his boyfriend healed you properly before doing it himself. They licked your blood of their face and the sight alone had you shuddering as you came.

“D-Daddy…”, you whimpered as he quickly came up to kiss your lips.

Flipping on to his back, he maneuvered you till you were sitting on his face while hovering over his hard, leaking cock. Spiting over the tip, you smeared it down him with your palm, enveloping your mouth around his length as Steve kissed random parts of your skin.

Eddie’s tongue immediately began devouring you, flicking against your bundle of nerves as he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you to him.

“You look so beautiful like this. So fucking sexy.”, Steve murmured as his face pressed against the side of yours, his humid breathes warming your cheek.

Tilting his head just below yours, his mouth kissed and sucked on his boyfriend’s balls making him buck his hips up in pleasure, choking you slightly as drool spilled from your lips.

As his lips encased around your clit, the sudden intrusion of Eddie’s finger into your ass simultaneously made you gasp as both vampires mewled at the feeling it gave as it coursed through them as well.

“Did you like that, baby?”, Steve asked in a low seductive grumble that had you clenching around the other man’s tongue as he shook his head and pressed his face deeper into you. “Yeah? Fuck! I can feel you both. Have you ever had someone fuck you like that before?”

While your hand continued to pump him, Eddie slid another finger inside of you, stretching you further till your vision blurred as your orgasm was swiftly approaching.

“Answer me, honey. Have you?”

“N-No. Please Daddy. It feels…”

“Yeah? Tell us, baby. How does it feel?” Pressing his nose to your cheek again, your mouth fell open as the English language left your brain. “Come on, Y/N. How does it feel?”

“Good! So fucking good! Please don’t stop!”

Steve grinned as he tenderly petted your head, opening his mouth wide, and holding his own head still as the Eddie rutted his hips quickly, thrusting his cock deep down the vampire’s throat.

Your release rippled through you as you screamed into his flesh beneath you. Once you had come down, the metalhead firmly pulled on your hair, bringing you up so your back was to his chest while Steve laid in front of you.

“W-W-Wait, please.” Both vampires pause as your little pleading voice cuts through their need. “If…If we do this…I want Eddie and Steve. Please…I’ve never…”

As they both blink, you watch as their fangs recede and their soft brown color eyes push forward. Eddie’s arm slides under the pillow around your front, hugging you to him as he kisses your shoulder.

“Everything’s ok, baby girl. You’re safe. If you don’t feel comfortable or you want to stop just let us know ok?”

“Ok, Daddy. Just go slow please.”

As Steve caressed your cheek, you felt the metalhead lean away from you before a bottle popped open and he was on you again. You gasp at the oddly warm feeling of the lube as he works his fingers to take care of you.

Seeing the nervousness flash through your eyes, the other vampire softly tried to soothe you.

“Daddy’s right, honey. You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

“I saw your first time with him.”, you smile as you cling to Eddie’s arm around your chest. “I felt how scared you were before.”

“Did you see how long we laid there till he really started moving? I thought I was ruining the mood.”, he chuckles. “But he made me feel safe…loved. I trusted him.”, he coos as his eyes flick briefly behind you. “I know you do to because we can feel it and we trust you, Y/N.”

A tear fell down your face and he quickly wiped it away.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Hey, look at me. This isn’t your fault. Say it, honey.”

“What happened to you isn’t my fault.”

“I don’t believe you.”, Eddie added as his stern eyes looked you over. “Say it again.”

“What happened to Steve wasn’t my fault.”, you responded with a bit more confidence making them smile.

“Good girl, sweetheart. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Do you think you can help me, pretty girl?” Taking a hold of one of your wrists, he brought one of your arms behind you and placed your hand on your behind. “Just hold it open for me so I can go slow, ok?”

After nodding, you did what he asked, your breath catching when you felt his cock line up with your entrance. As he began pushing himself into your ass, your body went stiff as your face scrunched in pain.

“Breathe, Y/N. Relax, honey. It’s going to hurt more if you don’t relax.”, Steve whispers, resting his forehead on yours.

Doing small thrusts behind you, Eddie was pushing himself inch by inch, trusting that you or Steve would stop him should he need to. A small grumble immitted from his chest and his boyfriend reciprocated as his mouth fell open in a silent moan.

“Fuck, baby. He’s having so much trouble control himself.” As the pretty boy murmurs to you, his hands begin to roam, kneading your breasts down to your center. “God damnit. You’re so wet. Does it feel good now, Y/N?”

Between his words and Eddie’s hold on you as he split you open, you couldn’t open your mouth. Hell, you could barely remember your name as the pain subsided and the need for him to fully take you took over.

When his hips connected with yours, you whimpered as your head fell forward.

“Talk to us, baby, please.”

“M-Move. You…you can move now.”

“Hang on, princess. We—fuck—we need to see if you can handle us both. God fucking damn it. Are you fucking kidding me?”

You knew he wasn’t talking to you because you felt it to. You were so full of him you could only imagine how tight you were squeezing him.

“Y/N, honey, I’m going to lift your leg over my waist, ok?”

“Ok, Steve.”

Scooting closer to you, his palm tenderly ran along the skin of your thigh as he pulled your leg over his hip causing you and Eddie to groan as your body jostled slightly. Running his mushroom tip along your slit, he collected your slick before slowly pushing his cock into your center.

Your arm immediately shot out under his own to cling to his shoulder as a bunch of pleasurable feelings overwhelmed your senses.

“Oh my god.”

Both vampires made subtle motions, pulling back slightly before thrusting all the way inside of you again.

“Are…Are you ok, Y/N?”, Steve asked, his voice a mix between his and the gruff timbre of his vampire tone.

Nodding aggressively, you encourage them to make you theirs and they don’t disappoint. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room mixed with loud moans from all three of you. They both hit a steady rhythm hitting all those sensitive spots inside of you at the same time till you were sobbing as your nails dug into their flesh.

“Fuck… bite me.”

A different type of want and need flows through them at your request as they snarl under their breath. Lifting your head, you rest your cheek on Steve’s as he doesn’t even hesitate, breaking your skin with his fangs and draining your blood. Eddie tugs on his hair and the boy growls causing the metalhead to roughly grip his face.

“I didn’t hear you fucking ask. She’s not in charge of your pleasure, I am.” Their black eyes glare at each other before he releases him to continue feeding. “I’ll deal with that attitude later.”

Turning his attention back to you, his demeanor softens.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Daddy, please. I trust you. I trust you, baby.”

Biting the other side of your throat, your eyes roll and flutter closed as they pound into you harder, clinging to each other over you as they eat. The bed shakes at their quickened pace and your fingers tangle in Eddie’s hair behind you as you drag your nails down Steve’s back.

You cum harder than you ever had in your entire life, shuddering against them as your body goes limp.

“Please…”

Your tone was smaller than before but it practically screamed in their ears as they released you letting your head fall. You watched with hazy, half lidded eyes as their lips mingled together; panting into each other’s mouths as they came.

Steve head fell hard against the pillow as he tried to catch his breath while Eddie hastily healed the wounds on your neck, kissing them softly as they closed.

“Since its both of us breaking your skin, I don’t want to leave you exposed like that. Are you alright, baby?”

After carefully pulling out of you, the vampire in front of you tenderly pushed your hair away from your face as he checked you over.

“H-Heavy…”

“I’m going to get her something to eat.”

While waiting for him to return, Eddie slowly pulled out of you as well, murmuring apologies as you winced. Running back to the bed, you grimaced at the sandwich Steve held in his hands.

“I know it seems like a lot but we’ll just take little bites, okay?”

As delicately as he could, the long-haired vampire sat up, bringing you with him so you could utilize him to lean against as you ate and drank the water they gave you.

“We’re kind of back to the trial and error stage. I was going to bring a coke but I wasn’t sure if that would be too much sugar plus you need to hydrate.”

“Maybe juice next time?”

“Yeah… I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

You heard them talking but they both sounded so far away. You had never been in this headspace before; the little girl headspace. Even as a child you weren’t really allowed to be one having to grow up pretty quickly in your environment. An adults mindset found you before you entered your double digits and battled with the developing child you had been. Even as a current adult, you felt them go toe to toe constantly but right now in this moment… all you heard was the little girl.

“Baby, what’s going on?”

Blinking, your glassy eyes turned to face them as you scrunched your nose in thought.

“I’ve never…felt little…like this before. My…my mind…is so quiet. I’ve never… I’m sorry for leaving.” The crack in your voice broke their hearts as Steve set everything aside so he could move closer to you and hug you with Eddie.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re here now and these past few weeks have been scary for all of us.”

“I saw you on the screen. What happened? Were you not eating? Dustin said Steve was struggling.”

Before answering your questions, they took you in their arms and brought you to a bath. After setting you in the warm water and cleaning your skin, they each took a seat near the tub with Steve on the edge and Eddie on the floor reaching over to pet your head.

“We don’t know how to explain it and, to be honest, we didn’t want to because we didn’t want you to feel like…you HAD to be here. I told you before I always felt you but after having you and losing you—”

“It was like being stabbed again.”, Steve cut in. “Honey, I was in love with you before but after turning and feeling what Eddie had been talking about… I felt like I did when I lost him.”

“Steve, I’m—”

“No, no, baby. I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. I just…all of my feelings were…are… amplified to a 10 and I didn’t want to do anything let alone eat. We did of course but it was never enough. Never enough to fill that hole of you not being here.”

“You complete us, sweetheart. You ARE a part of us and like Stevie said, we aren’t saying this to make you feel bad. If you want to leave again you can and we won’t stop you but even though you’re not a vampire I feel like you felt the same things we did.”

“I knew from the first time I saw you on your stream… I knew that I loved you; both of you. I just thought maybe I was being crazy.”, you giggle making them chuckle as well. “Not being near you or even seeing your faces these past couple of weeks has just killed me. I dreamed about you every night.”

“So did we, honey.”

While Eddie lifted you out of the tub and got you in comfy clothes, Steve rapidly changed the sheets so you three could promptly climb into bed.

“Thank you for being so gentle with me.”

“Of course, pretty girl. Did you like it? What we did.” When you nod your head, his fingers caress your face and travel up into your hair. “Can you say it?”

“I liked what we did together?”

“What did we do, baby?”

Biting your bottom lip, you blush as he smiles while the other vampire settles in beside you.

“I liked feeling you and Steve inside at me at the same time.”

“Good. We can show you so much more whenever your ready. Steve and I have experimented with a lot especially when we were starting to delve into the dominate world. Tomorrow I can show you one of those things when I punish this bad boy over here.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You didn’t ask to feed on her and you gave me attitude. Who controls your pleasure?”

“You do.”

“I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear that. Did you hear that, baby girl?”

“No, Daddy, I didn’t.”

Steve smirks as you and Eddie grin at him with wide, beautiful, tooth filled smiles.

“I said you do, Daddy.”

#################

@chelebelletx @mandyjo8719 @nailbatanddungeon

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howlsofbloodhounds · 4 months ago

Note

You know, I think Killer getting reunited with his brother after his escape with Color would be really interesting, whether it goes well or horribly wrong.

If it goes well, it would be really interesting to see how Something New Paps deals with Killer not really being his brother (though I am of the idea that he'd love Killer for Killer as well. I just also think it would mean him grieving his brother yet again. This time knowing he'll never have his brother back). It would also be cool to see how he'd get along with the Epic Sanses. I also really would love to see explored what his tentative new dynamic with Killer might be, and how that may change Killer's dynamic with the others too (would he be less codependent with Color with Paps in the picture? Or would he just become dependent on both?).

If it goes horribly, well, it would be interesting to see exactly how horribly. Would Killer panic enough to kill him again? How would he react to that after so long? Would Killer even believe that that's his brother? Would he just deny everything and turn away and then be haunted by the possibilities forever?

I just hhhhhhhh. I've been thinking about them so much. I've never see content about them explored, ever, and the possibilities are giving me brainrot

Yes! This is the stuff I want to see with killer from this fandom. Not more of the same! Let me watch these doomed siblings suffer or heal. The angst having to grief the person you never knew you lost while they’re right in front of you, looking at you, looking through you—only it’s something else with your loved one’s face. Uncanny valley im telling you.

I personally think Papyrus will have a difficult time actually accepting that his brother is gone. Hed subconsciously see signs in Killer—same smile, same twist of the corner of the mouth even if the nature of the smile is different from when Sans told an awful pun, because now Killer is smiling like that when he tells horrible stories he seems to think aren’t horrific at all.

I think how this reunion unfolds definitely depends on the exact situation. If Killer is still trapped under Nightmare or not, or if Color has rescued him.

And if Papyrus has any memory of what Killer did to him and everyone else—because Killer did spend years upon years murdering and horrifically torturing Papyrus and all the others as if they were nothing more than toys.

Killer could look at him, and all Papyrus could see is that empty, dead eyed look as he screams and cries while Killer breaks his bones. As if Killer didn’t recognize who Papyrus was, and if he didn’t care who he was.

And Papyrus, how his reactions during those times could’ve affected Killer. He was in unimaginable pain, terror, and confusion. Hatred and anger and spite are understandable reactions. What are some things he might’ve said to Killer during these moments that stuck with Killer? Begging and pleading, cursing and screaming? Attempting to get Sans to “remember who he is”?

As the world Reset around Killer, did others eventually start changing too? Even if only in small easily missed ways, even if they forgot by the next Reset. Chara and Killer were always in search of something new, after all.

Could Killer trust himself at all around Papyrus? Or would he immediately start thinking about how he has killed him before, how Papyrus could be here for revenge or even worse—for Sans.

Would some part of Killer despise Papyrus for being weak enough to forgive him, just like he always did for the human? Would Killer feel the need to kill Papyrus again—believing it’s what it has to do to prevent something even worse (Stage 4), or perhaps out of panic as you mentioned, or even that anger at Papyrus or just the unimaginable confusion and stress and pain that Papyrus’ presence brings (Stage 3).

Would Papyrus’ presence disjoint Killer’s “placement” in time.

Would seeing him make Killer think he’s back in the Underground with Chara, and thus Papyrus is another enemy he has to deal with. Would he be unable to accept that the Papyrus in front of him is his Papyrus, or would he think it’s just one Papyrus out of a gazillion more, and therefore not worth wasting energy on?

I can definitely see Stage 1 being reluctant to actually be around Papyrus. Not because he hates him or is disgusted by his “weakness” and not even because he thinks he has to kill Papyrus—although he’s very aware that some parts of him very likely do think those things—not only because he can’t trust his own mind, his own desires, but also because he just..feels horrible around Papyrus.

He idealized this image of Papyrus and the life he thinks they used to have, but he has changed. He has done a lot of things. He couldn’t even accept a hug from Papyrus for very long without pushing him away in tears. I think he’d definitely benefit from having his brother back in his life, although I doubt it’d be a very frequent thing.

I can see many instances where guilt, fear, and shame just leads to him trying to “hide” from his emotions in Stage 2, which leads to the usual avoidance behaviors. Which may also lead to him subconsciously blaming Papyrus for being able to have any effect on him at all—given how Stage 2 views it when situations and people are able to make him “feel” anything. As if they are attempting to control him.

So many interesting possibilities—especially given how much Papyrus may know. How much knowledge is he working off?

{ @stellocchia }

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pabit · 2 months ago

Text

Hi, its Patrick speaking.

Michael somehow locked up both of the camera creeps in the bathroom. I guess they were freaking him out while he was repairing the door or some shit? The footage is pretty much useless, which is a bit irritating…but I’ve transcribed the audio for you all here. I think its crucial to provide the full word-for-word conversation.

----

> welp…the hole has been patched. i will have to replace the entire door eventually but um, this will work for right now.

> …

> uh…

> ......

> habit?

> …YES?

> are you...upset about what i said earlier?

> WHAT? NO NO…IM FINE. > don’t even worry about it.

> …you’re lying.

> no i’m not—

> habit…i may be mentally unwell, but im not stupid. i know that look in your eyes. i know that tone in your voice. ive seen it all before - i was practically raised on the sadness of my institutionalized peers.

> IS THAT HOW YOU SEE THE HABIT? AS ONE OF THOSE PATHETIC FUCKING CRAZY HUMANS?

> ah…i wouldnt describe them that harshly but i mean, basically yeah? > they are just people with problems man…many of whom have done some fucked up things, patrick and myself included. mostly though, they are kinda just…sad. Because they keep fucking up, or getting fucked up, and they dont know how to stop it. evidently you are not much different from them or myself in that way

> so uh— i just wanna say that i’m sorry for my behavior. i was being a jackass and it was uncalled for. i wanted to believe you deserved that and much worse but…i dunno. spewing blind hatred like that doesnt sit right with me.

> ….... > no. don’t apologize.

> what? why not?

> nothing you said was inaccurate nor unjustified, michael. why be sorry about that?

> because, uh…you apologized to me first? an' well, thats unlike you. at least, its unlike whatever i thought of you before today. maybe patrick is onto something…and maybe i was little too quick to judgment.

> HA…ARE YOU SURE YOURE NOT STUPID? I’VE DESTROYED MORE THAN JUST YOUR DOOR. I KILLED—

> i know. i know. and i dunno if i’ll ever truly forgive you for taking my brother away…but like. i also can recognize the value of an apology. it’s a good start, if you really mean it.

> …

> do you mean it, habit? are you actually sorry?

> I HAVE NOTHING TO GAIN FROM LYING TO YOU.

> sure– unless you think appeasing me is what will keep yourself from being kicked out and left to die alone

[HABIT laughs]

> I’D BE A MORON TO SINCERELY BELIEVE THAT. YOU AND PATRICK HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BAR ME FROM THIS PLACE, AT ANY TIME, FOR ANY REASON. I ACCEPT THAT. I WOULD DESERVE IT. AND ONE WAY OR ANOTHER…I WILL DIE WITH ALL OF MY REGRETS RIGHT BESIDE ME.

> I APOLOGIZED BECAUSE, WELL…I BELIEVE YOU DESERVE ONE, WHILE I STILL HAVE THE TIME TO GIVE IT. ONE LESS REGRET TO TAKE TO THE GRAVE, EH? > there is no other reason.

> you believe i deserve an apology, huh...

> ERRR…YEAH. > I CANT PRETEND LIKE I FULLY UNDERSTAND ALL THE WAYS IN WHICH MY ACTIONS HAVE AFFECTED YOU…BUT UM...

> YOU LOST SOMEONE DEEPLY IMPORTANT TO YOU. I HAVE LOST SOMEONE RECENTLY TOO. AND UH, IT…HURTS. IT HURTS AND IM THE ONLY MONSTER TO BLAME. > IF THE PAIN I LIVE WITH NOW IS EVEN REMOTELY CLOSE TO WHAT I’VE DONE TO YOU…THEN YES…i am sorry.

> I KNOW THAT WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH AND WONT FIX A DAMN THING...SO THROW ME OUT, IF YOU MUST. I WILL GO WITHOUT QUESTION.

> …

> …WELL?

> ...... . . . . . .........

> MICHAEL?

> …ugh…uh, hey…habit.

> ERR— PATRICK?

> heh…you got it…

> sorry im…still a bit fuzzy upstairs at the moment.

> UM. OKAY. SIT DOWN THEN?

[I flopped into the couch next to Habit, kinda bracing against him to ground myself.]

> SO UM– > IS MICHAEL ALRIGHT?

> Michael…? Oh right. > He’s fine.

> …THAT'S ALL? JUST FINE?

> Ugh– dude my head is killing me right now, gimme a break…

> OH. SORRY.

> Its– its okay, Habit. This is nothing out of the ordinary, really…it happens pretty often when I come around.

> AH…

> Anyways, ummmm…yeah! > Michael is fine. Processing everything, but he's fine. I won't go into more detail though…it's not really my place to talk about his feelings about you, after all. He will come back to say what he needs to when he is ready.

> AND IF HE IS NEVER READY…? IF HE WANTS ME GONE?

> Luckily for you, Mikey doesn't have the only say in that matter. You still have me, Habs – and I want you to be here.

> ................

----

Habit didn't say anything else after that, so thats when I decided to get up and let the creeps out of the bathroom. Now I'm in the kitchen; finishing up this post and waiting for this batch of cookies to bake. I'm just trying to give Hab's brain a moment to catch up with itself, y'know? You know. Whatever. Hopefully the sweets will lighten the mood. I promise I wont eat them all this time, heh.

It also appears that I have missed some interesting bits of insight while out of the house today, so I will check back in later once I am better informed and Habit has gotten a few dozen cookies in his stomach.

[ask] >>

#mlandersen0 #everymanhybrid #chrono

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tadc-harlequin-au · 3 months ago

Note

Hi im new here and VERY confused, this au seems super cool but I have no idea whats going on, can you maybe give me a simplified verison of the lore pls?

Basically, Pomni allies with Caine to fight Puppets who have gone insane because she's always itching for a fight, and retrieve their DIE hearts afterwards. To which, they'll all be rebuilt with smaller, better and saner bodies to have a new fresh start on their lives. But Pomni has another problem: She's being hunted down by an entity only referring to himself as The Patriarch of Puppets.

It's like, a story of individuality, overcoming unhealthy habits, the many sides of humanity, the difference between "humans" and "humanity", taking responsibility for your actions/actions have consequences, recognizing toxic work culture/societal "norms", and finally, group therapy/found family but with a lot of extra steps.

... Aaaaaand if it was set in a soulpunk/steampunk world, plus the main ship is Pomni x Caine. Yippie!

#thanks for the ask!#tadc #tadc au #harlequin au #tadc harlequin au #the amazing digital circus #I hope this makes sense anon! I tried to compress the story so much so this isn't a complete overview of the plot

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bluehwale · 2 years ago

Note

Ok sooo, you said that I could send my request and I couldn't wait any longer. The first fic is when they confessed for reader, but I'll love to know how they met reader and how they became that tight friend, a prequel if you will. That was it, thanks dear!

"the rainbow thief": the beginning | demigods! poly ateez au

01 / ‘the rainbow thief’ masterpost / next

summary. you never expected to be in a camp meant for demigods but, here you are. you also didn't expect on becoming friends with a brooding emo boy who introduces you to five of his friends, nor do you expect to meet two bickering best friends but, here you are. or alternatively, you meet eight boys that makes your life much more bearable.

pairing(s). ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader (son of hades! hongjoong, son of athena! hwa, son of apollo! yunho, son of poseidon! yeosang, son of zeus! san, son of aphrodite! mingi, son of dionysus! wooyoung & son of ares! jongho)

word count. 2.7k

genre. crack, flustered joong, fluff!, san being clumsy (again)

warnings. cursing, mentions of anxiety, alcohol intake (wooyoung and his wine), impulsive writing so it's not the best, camp half blood universe inaccuracies help

note. thankyou for the req and im so sorry i posted it so late!! i totally forgot abt tumblr bc i was having too much fun on my spring break im sorry T_T but it's here now!!! i also won't be accepting any more requests for demigods! atz </3

Hongjoong feels sick.

“I think you’re fine.” Yunho frowns, pressing his palm against Hongjooong’s forehead one last time just to make sure. The healer did everything he could, even resorting to human hospital’s protocol check-ups when his hyung refused the usual nectar and ambrosia because he insists that, “something’s really wrong with me, Yunho, and I don’t think those can fix it.”

The healer can only groan inwardly at his friend’s stubbornness because there’s nothing a little nectar, ambrosia, and his glowing fingertips can’t fix. But of course, he continues to entertain him as he’s not in the mood to test the patience of a son of Hades today.

“What are your symptoms again?” Yunho asks flatly, inflating the cuff wrapped around Hongjoong’s upper arm to gauge his blood pressure again (in truth, he doesn’t know how to read a blood pressure monitor but does it anyway for Hongjoong’s sake) to appease his “patient” who is currently sitting on a cot because he feels “sick.”

“I had this really weird feeling in my stomach, like, it feels like my organs are squashed around and everything inside me turned upside down,” Yunho frowns. Okay, that sounds pretty serious. “And my face got all hot, my feet couldn’t stop twitching, and I stuttered too!” Hongjoong continues, bringing a hand to his head in worry. “This doesn’t feel like me at all.”

“Hyung, was there anything that made you feel anxious?” eyebrows furrowed in concern, Yunho regards Hongjoong carefully. “If there’s anything troubling your mind lately, I’m here to listen.”

“No, I don’t think it’s anything like that—”

An unfamiliar figure suddenly pops inside the curtain circling the cot, momentarily surprising Yunho and leaving Hongjoong stunned once he recognizes the person in front of him.

“Sorry, hi,” you grimace, feeling apologetic towards the tall boy you scared with your uninvited presence. You just got here, alone and wary, with a few scratches here and there from being chased by monsters, so you hope the cute boy with soft looking hair in front of you is the person you’re looking for and that your day won’t be even more ruined by an embarrassing moment of you mistaking him for another person. “I was told to find a Yunho here? They said he could give me something to help with my injuries.”

Forgetting entirely about his hyung’s complaints, Yunho rapidly deflates the cuff still circling Hongjoong’s arm and rips it off in a rushed manner, earning a loud yelp from the poor raven haired boy still sitting on the cot (he did not end up checking the numbers on the monitor).

Hongjoong feels his heartbeat quicken when your gaze lands on him once you stand on your tippy toes to look over Yunho’s shoulder in curiosity. A smile threatens to creep up on his own face when he notices your eyes brighten and a sweet smile curling up your lips. “Oh, Hongjoong! Hi!”

“_____. Good to see you again.”

Yunho flicks his eyes back and forth between you and Hongjoong, mischievously grinning at the interaction you’re both having because it takes awhile for Hongjoong to warm up to people and it seems like you’re new, so to think that Hongjoong has warmed up to you that quick, you must be quite the character. Or maybe, the emotionally stunted son of Hades has finally taken an interest in someone.

Yunho leans towards the latter. And he can’t wait to tell the others about this so they can all tease him about it.

“Oh,” you take note of him sitting on a cot and remind yourself that you’re in the infirmary, causing your eyes to rake over Hongjoong in worry. “Are you okay? You’re hurt?”

“No! I’m perfectly fine!” The raven haired boy who was previously complaining about his “weakened knees” suddenly sprang up from the bed, seemingly energized, and pushes a gawking Yunho over your direction with a tight grip on the back of his shoulders. “You should let Yunho check up on you then get some rest. Hope you feel better soon.”

You smile in thanks at the boy you met a few hours prior, the first person who greeted you when you stepped foot on camp, and bid him a goodbye as he turns to leave the infirmary to let Yunho tend to you alone.

Before he could, however, you nonchalantly tell him, “I like those glasses on you. Looks cute.”

A pause, and then, there it is.

Hongjoong’s cheeks slowly flame a bright pink, the soles of his sneakers nervously squeaking against the hardwood floors as he turns his head to face you with his eyes flicking to every corner of the room and anywhere that does not land on your figure. An intangible noise escapes his throat. “T-thanks.”

Oh. Yunho slaps a hand over his mouth as he tries his damn best to stifle in the laughter to save face of Hongjoong’s dignity.

Hongjoong’s not sick.

For the first time ever, Hongjoong is flustered.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ✺◟( • ω • )◞✺

“That’s _____? Hongjoong’s _____?”

Hongjoong smacks the back of the two-tone haired boy’s head as he hisses, “If you don’t lower your fucking voice.”

Wooyoung’s yowl of pain is followed with a death glare shot at his hyung, the slightly tipsy boy hugging his ‘I LOVE DIONYSUS’ mug close to his chest to avoid any unnecessary spillage of perfectly good wine. “What was that for?” he cries. “They won’t even be able to hear me,” he grumbles, pointing to the group of Iris kids noisily huddled together in celebration of winning a game of Capture the Flag against the Athena kids. An impressive rarity. Athena kids are known to be very strategic with their battle plans, even in mere simulations like the game they play every Friday, which is why the Iris kids are especially happy.

Yunho tsks at the slurring of his friend’s speech, forcefully wrangling the mug of wine away from the alcohol fiend. Or at least, he attempts to, for the son of Dionysus quickly snatches the mug to avoid his prying fingers, an expression of mocking retaliation sent his way.

“She’s so cool,” Mingi dreamily sighs, having hearts as eyes as he continues to look at you in awe. You’re in the center of the Iris kids circle, a wide smile plastered on your lips as everyone else rejoices on your team’s victory. You meet eyes with both Hongjoong and Yunho (who is still busy trying to keep his feral friend at bay), sending an excited wave their way in greeting which earns back a proud thumbs up from Yunho and a genuinely heartwarming smile from Hongjoong.

“You have to introduce me to her!” Mingi gasps eagerly, hopping around Hongjoong while flailing his arms in glee, unknowingly landing hits on the silently seething raven haired boy who pointedly glares at him in return.

“You can do it yourself.”

“Someone’s doing it right now,” Jongho points out, the rest of the boys turning their heads to see their own Seonghwa hyung, the head counselor of the Athena cabin, make his way towards you and shake your hand with a gentle smile. It seems that he’s congratulating you for your win and Jongho chortles at the obvious twinkle in the eldest’ eyes. He’s trying to make a move on you.

And he can see why Seonghwa, alongside Hongjoong and Yunho, has taken an interest in you.

Because although your fellow siblings are urgently trying to sweep you into the dining pavilion for a celebratory dinner, you still take the time to meet the three new faces that are close friends with Hongjoong. Amidst the conversation between the rest of the boys and you, Jongho gets why it’s so easy for Hongjoong and Yunho to be close to you in the span of a week. Your contradictingly soft but bubbly personality seems to shine out of you, easily melting the coldest hearts (cough, Hongjoong hyung, cough), and the way you always seem to have an easy smile on your face softens just about anyone.

It’s easy to like you.

“Who are they?” you question your siblings once you’ve sat in the Iris table in the dining pavilion, distractedly biting onto your chopsticks as you try to be discreet in sneaking a look at the two lone boys sitting separately in the Zeus table and the Poseidon table. Both tables that, apparently, have been unoccupied for years.

A new kid of the big three; Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, always garner attention because they’re so rare in quantity. Especially now that there’s two of them, one of your siblings, Yuna, excitedly jumps to inform you. “We don’t know their names yet but I heard they came in while we were just starting the game. Probably why we didn’t hear anything about them until now,” she shrugs, shoving another piece of gimbap into her mouth. “But the other campers said they got claimed immediately after coming here! That’s usually unheard of from the big three.”

Your brother, Keeho, who took the displeasing choice of sitting beside Yuna grimaces in disgust as he force shut her open chewing mouth. “Don’t talk while you’re chewing.”

You take another look at the two boys sitting silently with their heads slightly lowered, taking note of the unhealed scratches and bruises blooming all over their skin. You gasp, turning back to Keeho to ask, “What happened to them?”

“Heard they were hunted by a minotaur which is why they’re both forced to come here. All of the Apollo kids were stationed at our game earlier in case anything happens, probably why they haven’t had the chance to be healed.”

You shovel the rest of your food down your throat, almost choking in the process which earned a few panicked concerns from your siblings, but you ignore them and quickly move to the closest table, the Zeus table, after chugging down water from your goblet.

“Hi! I’m ______. It’s nice to meet you.”

The blonde looks up in surprise to see you and you use the short pause to take a good look at his face. Soft slanted eyes that oddly remind you of a cat’s greet you alongside a shy smile that spreads across his face and pops out both of his dimples.

Oh, you think. You didn’t expect him to be so handsome. You’re screwed.

“_____,” he repeats your name, pleasantly basking in the friendly smile you give him. You slightly waver at the way he says your name so sweetly. “I’m San. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“How are you liking it here?” you ask, trying to start a conversation in hopes of easing his first-day jitters. “I’m also still pretty new here. Just got here last week, actually.”

You can see the tension seep out his shoulders after hearing that you’re one of the newer campers as he gladly sighs in relief. “I’m pretty nervous, I don’t really know what’s going on,” he lets out an emotionless chuckle. “I just found out that my dad isn’t my actual dad and that Zeus? The dude up in the sky? Is apparently my real dad.”

“Yeah,” you grimace, you still haven’t fully grasped that either. “It took awhile for me to get kinda used to things here but I also somehow feel that I belong here,” you look at him, hoping your effort of comforting him is working. “I think you’ll fit in here soon enough. It’s okay to take things slow.”

This time, San genuinely smiles. “Thanks _____.”

“By the way,” he adds in a whisper, tugging your wrist to bring you closer to him, inadvertently causing your cheeks to warm. “I don’t know much about my… dad or Greek Mythology in that matter, but isn’t he like a major dickhead—”

A thunderous clap of lightning pierces through the suddenly darkened sky, striking a tree that stood closest to the dining pavilion, erupting it in booming flames. Surprised screams break out throughout the dining campers, everyone quickly turning their heads to look at San; the most probable culprit of angering the God of the Sky that one of their trees is now on fire.

“Oh, oops,” the guilty boy winces. “Sorry.”

“San, was that you?” a voice came from behind you, requiring you to turn around to see who it is and oh– it’s the boy who was sitting at the Poseidon table; the other new camper. The raven haired boy looks at you, taking in the horrified look on your face as you resume watching the tree burn after attempting to nod at him in greeting. “Man, what’d you do this time?”

“I didn’t do anything,” the blonde boy Yeosang unfortunately calls his best friend, whines. “It’s just… maybe I said some words I shouldn’t have or whatever. Anyways, can’t you fix that? Shouldn’t you have, like, water powers or something?”

“We literally just got here, idiot,” Yeosang rolls his eyes, though he thinks it’d be pretty cool if he does end up having powers. He turns to your direction, taking the chance to talk to you now that he sees you’ve snapped out of your daze. “I’m sorry about him, he must’ve given you a hard time.”

San lets out an offended “hey!”

“No he didn’t,” you giggle. “It’s just,” you point at the still burning tree and a few campers circling it with buckets of water in hopes of putting out the fire. “It’s not everyday that you see stuff like this.”

Yeosang turns around, whistling lowly once he actually takes in the damage his best friend (his best friend’s dad, actually) has done. “Yeah, that looks pretty bad,” he says.

“Eh,” you shrug. “The Demeter kids are probably upset about it but it’s nothing they can’t fix.”

Your eyes widen, you totally forgot why you wanted to approach them in the first place. “Speaking of fixing,” you usher San out of his table and exchange proper introductions with the raven haired boy named Yeosang before dragging them by the wrists to the Apollo table. “You should really get those wounds healed. The Apollo kids here are the healers, they’ll know what to do.”

A tall boy, who Yeosang presumes to be Yunho based on your calls of his name, smoothly steps out of the table with his siblings and introduces himself to both of them. You told the healer about what you heard, that they were both hunted on the way here; hence the bruises from struggles of their escape. His eyes take in the exhausted figures of the two boys and he tells them that they should follow him to the infirmary to heal and rest up.

“Hey! Wait up!”

A boy with two-toned hair surprisingly holding a can of Diet Coke instead of his regular mug, skips to the group of four, tagging along the remaining of the boys behind him. Already exchanging greetings and introductions, the two new boys are slightly surprised at how friendly they all are but they absolutely do not mind at all, despite how they feel like their bones would crumble in exhaustion at any moment.

As the nine of them move together towards the infirmary, Wooyoung keeps bugging Yeosang with stupid questions that makes San laugh. (“Can you turn water into wine?” “If I could, wouldn’t that be blasphemy? And shouldn’t you be the one who turns things to wine?”). He’s never met anyone like them and they’re a bit odd but he thinks that he likes that.

He looks at you walking side by side with Yunho, an imposing Mingi trying to squeeze in the very small space left between you and the healer who is now glaring at his tall friend. Jongho watches from the sides, enjoying the suffering his hyung is going through and letting out amused snickers now and then. Seonghwa and Hongjoong look like they’re fighting over something, arms messily flailing against one anothers’, with Seonghwa letting out occasional squeals. San can’t tell if they’re play fighting or serious.

The blonde smiles, shoving his hands down his pockets. Staying at camp doesn’t sound all too bad now.

“I think you’ll fit in here soon enough.”

He thinks so too.

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agaypanic · 1 year ago

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hii im sorry if you're getting so many requests, but may I request Bernard and an afab he/they human reader? The reader is close friends with Charlie and once loved and adored Christmas but after their mom died they stopped believing altogether, so Charlie takes them to (i thinks its Christmas town??) and Bernard takes up the job personally to reignite the readers belief in Christmas. I hope this makes sense, I'm sorry if it doesn't!

Little Secret (Bernard the Elf X TransMasc!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: After losing your mom, Charlie notices that you’ve lost all Christmas spirit. Being the son of Santa Claus, he decides to bring you to the North Pole, where you meet the Head Elf.

A/N: could be read as platonic or romantic i think. mentions of death and grief

***

“Charlie, I really don’t want to intrude.” You protested as your best friend and college roommate helped you pack your suitcase. “I’m fine with staying here, I promise.”

“Y/n, there’s no way I’m letting you stay here. You’ll be miserable!” He looked at you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Besides, no one should be alone during Christmas.”

“It’s just Christmas.” You muttered a bit bitterly. Charlie sighed, pursing his lips at you, but he said nothing.

This was the first Christmas you’d be celebrating without your mother, whom you lost earlier in the year. Christmas had been your favorite time of year, but with her gone, it felt like there was no point in celebrating anymore. You couldn’t wait for the holiday to pass so you could stop dreading it.

Charlie felt inclined to help you change your view on the holiday. He was your friend, and he hated seeing you so miserable, especially during such a happy time of year. But there, of course, was another reason he was so adamant about helping you get through the holiday.

You arrived at Charlie’s mom’s house late that night. She and Neil welcomed you with open arms like they always did, which made you feel a bit better than you had when you left campus. The four of you had dinner together before settling in the living room. Eventually, Laura and Neil went to bed. Feeling tired yourself, you wanted to do the same. But you didn’t want to leave Charlie or be alone in your shared room, so you stayed put, slowly falling asleep on the couch as some movie played in the background.

***

As you slowly woke up, you felt colder than you did when you fell asleep. It felt like someone had put a high-speed fan in front of your face, the cold biting at you no matter how you tried to shield yourself from it.

“Dad, I think they’re waking up.” You heard Charlie’s voice as you slowly opened your eyes. Suddenly, Charlie appeared above you, a dark night sky behind his head. This confused you even more, because you don’t remember falling asleep outside. “Have a good nap, Y/n?”

“Where are we?” You asked groggily, slowly sitting up. The sight of your surroundings almost made you faint. “Charlie, where are we?!”

You were thousands of feet in the air, flying over sea and ice. That explained why you were so cold. But what you didn’t understand was why the man flying whatever you were sitting in was dressed in red and white like he was Santa Claus.

“The North Pole!” Charlie replied with a bright grin.

“What?!”

Suddenly, you slowed down, reaching a vast land covered in snow. You were too scared to look down, but whatever you were sitting in, you were starting to guess it was a sleigh, lowered to the ground and then deep below it. The lower the sleigh went, the warmer you became, which you were thankful for.

As you went further underground, the man driving the sleigh turned to look at you. This must have been some insane, elaborate prank because he truly looked like Santa Claus.

“Hey, Y/n!” He said, and you recognized the voice as Charlie’s father.

“Mr. Calvin?” You said hesitantly, eyes flitting to Charlie, who nodded in confirmation.

“Come on, kid. I told you, you can call me Scott.”

“Or Santa,” Charlie added with a laugh.

The three of you jolted slightly as the sleigh finally touched the ground. As you looked around, you debated whether to jump out of the sleigh and start running, or to curl up in a ball and hope that this was just a dream. Seeing a crowd of kids around the sleigh talking loudly and staring at you made you lean towards the latter.

You were about to ask a million questions, but someone came up to sleigh, looking at Scott.

“Santa, finally, you’re back.” He said, staring at him sternly. He didn’t seem to be much older than you or Charlie. “You’ve only checked the naughty and nice list once; you’re supposed to do it twice. Christmas is in six days.”

“Bernard, Bernard, Bernard.” Scott patted the man’s shoulder. “You worry too much. I can check a list with two billion names on it before Christmas.”

“You brought guests,” Bernard said suddenly, giving a polite nod to Charlie before staring at you. It was clear that you were the odd man out in the sleigh.

“Yes! Bernard, this is Y/n, Charlie’s roommate.”

Bernard gasped in horror, making you flinch. You wonder what Charlie and his father have been telling these strange people about you to warrant such a reaction.

“You brought a…” Bernard looked around at the rest of the kids in the room. They had started to disperse, but it was clear that some were still listening. He leaned in to whisper something to Scott before pulling back. “Here?!”

“Yes, yes, I did. But don’t worry, because you’re gonna help fix that!”

Incredibly confused by the conversation happening in front of you, you leaned over to Charlie.

“What the hell are they talking about?” You asked. “And what did that guy call me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Charlie patted your back before getting his dad’s attention. “Dad, I’m gonna show Y/n around the workshop.”

“The what?” Your questioning was ignored as Charlie dragged you out of the sleigh. You quickly glanced back at Scott and Bernard, who was staring at you with a mixed expression, before being yanked out of the room.

***

It took a few hours to wrap your head around what was happening. Apparently, Charlie’s dad was Santa Claus. The Santa Claus, and had been since Charlie was a little kid. All the kids that had flocked around the sleigh when you landed in the North Pole were actually elves, all older than anyone you’ve known by at least five times. And Bernard, who was in charge of the workshop, was the oldest of them all.

You were still half convinced this was some weird dream.

But when you woke up to a knock on the door and realized you were still in the festive bedroom that Charlie had taken you to after the tour he gave you, it was clear that this wasn’t a dream. Weird? Yes. Dream? No.

Groggily, you stumbled out of bed and went to the door. You had no idea what time it was, but you were mentally cursing this mystery person for waking you up.

“Hi.” Bernard was standing in front of you, looking a tad bit impatient.

“Hi…?” You replied, wondering what he was doing at your door at… well, whatever time it was. “I didn’t order a wake-up call.” You tried to joke, rubbing some of the sleep out of your eyes.

Surprisingly, Bernard let out a little laugh. Well, it wasn’t much of a laugh. He just made a small sound as he exhaled through his nose, but you decided to count it.

“No, Santa did.” It was your turn to do a small laugh that didn’t seem much like a laugh. Already, this conversation seemed absolutely ridiculous. “He charged me with looking after you, showing you around, that kind of thing.”

“Looking after me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “No offense, but I’m a big boy; I think I can manage.”

To be perfectly honest, you were planning to spend however long your stay was locked in your room. Wandering around a place filled with holiday spirit and festive decor didn’t feel very appealing to you.

“I bet you can, but I’m afraid he insisted. Charlie, too.”

You sighed. You didn’t really know what your friend was up to, but you knew you would have a few words with him when you got back to school.

Bernard seemed like he wasn’t going to budge on the matter, so you nodded.

“Fine. Lemme just…” You looked down at your clothes, deeming your loose pajamas a bit unfitting for the below-freezing temperatures of the North Pole. “I gotta change first.”

Without waiting for a response, you shut the door on Bernard. You made quick work of changing your clothes, making sure to layer up as much as you could without restricting your mobility. When you slipped your shoes on and opened the door again, Bernard perked up and smiled.

“So, what do you wanna do?” He asked you as you walked down a long hallway.

“I dunno; what is there to do around here?”

***

Turns out, there was a lot to do at the North Pole. You almost felt bad for the elves because they had to work until Christmas, but they somehow didn’t seem to mind.

You and Bernard started by walking around the town square, where he pointed out every shop and activity, hoping that something would pique your interest. The two of you went through various stores that sold candies, snowglobes, and loads of other Christmas-themed objects. Eventually, you got tired of walking around and were getting a bit chilly, so Bernard took you to what he deemed to be the best hot chocolate shop in all of the North Pole.

“Where are we going?” You asked, holding your giant mug close to your chest as Bernard took you out of the shop, heading out of Christmas town and close to a bundle of trees.

“I know a place.” He answered, sparing you a small glance and smile. “And being Head Elf, it gets to be my little secret.”

After a few minutes of trudging through snow, you found yourself at a small clearing. It was absolutely beautiful. Although you hated the chill of the heavy snow, it made the place look enchanting. Near you, at the edge of the trees, was a bench with an awning, so it was the only thing not covered in white. You could see a good-sized patch of ice on the other side of the clearing. It was probably a pond or small lake that never melted because of the constant below-freezing temperatures.

“I can see why you’d keep a place like this to yourself.” You say to Bernard as the two of you settle on the bench. You stirred your cocoa with the candy cane that came with your drink, sighing in contentment after taking a sip.

“Yeah, I rarely ever come though.”

“Why?” You asked, glancing at him only to find that he was already looking at you.

“Too busy.” He shrugged. “Sure, December’s always the busiest, but it’s not like the workshop just stops working for the rest of the year.”

You nodded, and you fell into a bit of silence. Just drinking hot cocoa and watching snow fall.

When your mugs were empty and the sky started getting a bit darker, you decided it was time to head back into town.

“Thanks for showing me this place; it’s really nice.” You say as you try to step in the footprints you made on the way in. Something annoying about the winter snow was the way it clung to your shoes, and you’d have to kick against the doorframe to get it all off. “I promise not to tell anyone about your little secret.”

“I think it’s safe to say that it’s our little secret now,” Bernard said, patting your shoulder.

***

The next few days were better than you thought they’d be. You spent a lot of time with Bernard and Charlie, either in the workshop, having hot cocoa and cookies, or going to the clearing in the woods. Somehow, despite being surrounded by elves and Christmas decorations and such, you sort of forgot that Christmas was just around the corner.

Until you woke up on Christmas Eve.

Charlie was the one to wake you up, because Bernard had to do a final checklist on everything before Scott (you refused to call him Santa) took off for the night. You wished his holiday spirit could rub off on you a bit, because you were worried about bringing the mood down with your constant thoughts of loss. But with the elves’ franticness and Charlie’s sunny disposition, it seemed no one really noticed.

Before Scott had to go to the sleigh, you and Charlie said goodbye to him and wished him luck. Then, when Charlie asked you what you wanted to do, you told him you wanted to go for a walk alone. Knowing your feelings regarding the holidays, he nodded and said he’d see you later. Although he brought you to the North Pole to try to help you regain some of the Christmas spirit you had once lost, the last thing he wanted to do was force you into reliving memories that now felt tainted.

You found yourself at the clearing. Your and Bernard’s little secret. You bundled yourself up in a blanket you had grabbed from your room, watching the snowfall.

You were glad that Bernard showed you this place, grateful even. It was the one place here that didn’t make you feel too miserable. The memories attached to this place were filled with Bernard, hot chocolate, and laughs.

“Thought I’d find you here.” You were startled out of your thoughts by Bernard, who walked over to you holding two large steaming cups with candy canes. It had become your usual drink for the last couple of days.

“I thought you were looking after the workshop.” You said, giving a quick nod of thanks as Bernard handed you your drink and settled beside you. “You know, having to get everything ready for… him and stuff.”

“He just left.” You noticed that Bernard had started trying to refrain from saying ‘Santa’ around you. Maybe because he knew how ridiculous the whole thing felt to you. Or perhaps he knew about your view on the holiday itself. Either way, you were a bit grateful for it. “Thought I’d try to find you.”

“Well, here I am.” You clinked your mug against Bernard’s, and the two of you drank. The hot liquid warmed you from the inside, and you closed your eyes, leaning your head back.

There was a beat of silence before Bernard decided to speak.

“I’m sorry about your mom.” It was quiet, but the last word made your eyes shoot open. You looked at him for a moment.

“Did Charlie tell you?” It was the only reason you could think of. Either him or Scott. Despite all the time you’ve spent with Bernard recently, you had never brought up your mother.

“Kind of.” Bernard tapped the side of his cup, leaning back in his seat and looking at you. “Being Head Elf and all, I check the naughty and nice list before it gets to the big guy. And… I saw what you wanted for Christmas.” You nodded in understanding.

“I’m a bit surprised I was on the list at all.” You said. “I don’t think I’ve really believed in Christmas or magic or anything since she died. No offense.”

“Everyone’s on the list, no matter what.” Bernard gave you a tightlipped smile. “And none taken. I’ll admit I was a bit... hesitant about you being here at first. I wasn’t sure what a non-believer in the North Pole would do to the magic.” You nodded, now understanding why he acted the way he did when he first met you at the sleigh. “I got you something.”

“What?” You looked at him in surprise.

“I don’t really know where you stand on the holiday right now, but I figured you should at least still have a present.”

Bernard dug into his pocket and held his hand out, covering the small object with his hand. When you grabbed it, he lifted his hand to reveal a snow globe. The inside was a tiny replica of the clearing you were sitting in now.

“It’s enchanted.” He said, looking at you looking at the globe. “If you shake it, it’ll show you a memory of your mom that you want to see.”

You looked at him suspiciously, but he looked serious. You figured you might as well give it a try. After all, you’ve seen flying reindeer and creatures that were a few hundred years old. You were starting to become a bit more open-minded.

Giving the snow globe a quick shake, you watched as the little white flecks swirled around. When they dispersed, you saw that Bernard had been telling the truth. You remembered this moment; it was one of your favorite memories with your mom. She was making frosting for Christmas cookies, and a younger you sat on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs. You talked about anything you could, and she did nothing but listen. Like she always did. The only times she tried to shut you up was so you could taste the frosting she made.

When the little snowflakes swirled back around and fell to the bottom, the memory had disappeared. You looked up at Bernard, only realizing a few tears cascaded down your cheeks when he lifted his hand to wipe them away.

“I know it’s not exactly what you had wanted, but I hope you like it.”

“I love it.” You insisted, setting your mug and globe next to you on the bench so you could wrap your arms around Bernard. He put down his mug and patted your back comfortingly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” When you separated, you smiled at each other, and you opened your tightly wrapped blanket to put part of it around his shoulders. The two of you huddled together for some more warmth. “So, do you think you’ll come back to the North Pole next year?”

You glanced at the snow globe before leaning your head on Bernard’s shoulder. In turn, he rested his head on yours.

“I’d like that.”

***

Bernard the Elf Taglist: @katerinaval

#agaypanic #bernard the elf x reader #bernard the elf x male!reader #bernard the elf #the santa clause x reader #the santa clause

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