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oozedninjas · 7 months

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Ghost Bridal

Summary: Rumor has it that the mystical jungle spirit will only resurface if a sacrifice is presented. However, Leo is taken aback. A sacrifice bridal wasn't something he would've expected from the people he vowed to protect. But with his mind clouded by the heat of his mating season, he resolves to accept you as oblation.

WARNINGS: NSFW/ 18+ / MDNI/10 years after the 2007 movie, so Leo 27-29/use of the word slut once/light dirty talk/mention of sexual toys/dry humping /oral (fem receiving) /Xenobiology (knot mentions)/somnophilia (if you read between the lines, squinting) / penetrative sex/chafing, bleeding and bruising/ aftercare/mating cycles/ The reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and possesses female anatomy/ Leo being the best boy despite the situation :')

Word count: 4,522

A/N: I now have an Ao3 account! This, along with other pieces, will be there by tomorrow!

—-------

"Quick, it's about to start!" Mikey exclaimed, gesturing with his arm, urging them closer.

Donatello arrived first, arranging the cushions on the couch for Splinter. Just as he finished, Leo assisted him in sitting down, and Raphael placed a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"I'm glad my sons make time to watch dramas with their father," Splinter commented.

Observing them all seated, his expression softened. Despite their age, they would always be his boys.

"We'll always have time for you, Dad," Mikey returned the smile.

The drama began. Donnie dimmed the lights with a small wrist device. The room fell quiet, illuminated only by the old television. Leo leaned his back on the sofa with a gentle expression before an itch of incompleteness stinged him again, rough, and stomach-twisting.

“There she is,” Splinter voiced, “I bet she will confess her love for Ma-”

The channel changed. On the screen, the afternoon news.

"Michelangelo!"

Mikey jumped, searching for the remote long lost between the cushions on his side of the couch. Leo got up to help, removing the pillows while vaguely listening to the fast-paced voice of the reporter.

"The inhabitants are desperately sending smoke signals and performing spiritual rituals to summon back the ghost of the jungle, a vigilante spirit who guarded the village ten years ago."

Leo's eyes snapped back to the screen.

"The situation is unsustainable. The factory is damaging the ecosystem. Losing it would signify the beginning of a collapse for humanity," said a doctor with exasperation. He pulled the mic from the news reporter as he approached the camera.

"If somehow you're listening, please come back. The jungle needs you. We need-"

The channel changed back to the drama.

"Found it," Mickey said, waving the remote.

No one cared anymore. Every pair of eyes was fixated upon Leo, whose heart pounded within his chest, echoing throughout his shell.

"You must go," said Splinter.

He tensed, sensing Raph’s gaze over him.

"We must go,” he said, turning to his brothers. “All of us."

Donatello sighed. "I'm allergic to mosquito bites."

Mikey grimaced. "Since when?"

"Since now."

Raphael gave Leo a barely noticeable melancholic smile.

"We aren’t kids anymore. It ain't the end of the world if ya gotta disappear for a bit," he said teasingly.

"Oh, I get it. It's a solo trip," Mikey said, lowering his gaze.

"I won't be far for too long," Leo remarked as if it were a promise.

Donatello scoffed. "We'll survive without you for quite a while. Don't rush to commitment. We know."

At that moment, all he could offer Donnie was a smile. However, as Leo descended from the cargo ship and stepped into the border of the jungle, he finally understood what his brother meant. Taking a deep breath of the fresh, humid air of the greenery, his gaze danced along the flora surrounding him. This was it—the missing piece: nature. The sensation of embracing a certain aspect of himself that could not find fulfillment in the heart of a bustling city.

— – -

It took Leo no more than two months to gradually dismantle the construction site. An appearance here, a couple of blows there, a few noises at night, and a town full of people who convinced the businessmen responsible for the project that the jungle ghost was as tangible as the machinery stripping the trees. And that was it. He could go back after completing the mission.

However, akin to the first time, he stayed. This time not out of fear of not meeting his father’s expectations, but because adulthood had taught him it was okay to take breaks. It was okay for him not to be a leader, an elder brother, or a ninja all the time. It was more than okay to just be Leo.

After another couple of months, plants had claimed the machinery's remains. Some metal pieces still exposed to the sun sparkled, giving it an almost magical touch. The town's inhabitants built a statue resembling an anthropomorphic monk. It wasn't exactly cute, but Leo supposed it was better than revealing his true identity.

Living in the wild brought a new adventure every second, and Leo couldn't stay still. During the day, he collected food and brought it to his old underground hideout, a sort of cenote reflecting sunlight by day and stars at night, with enough space to exist in peace.

With the moon as his guide, he took care of various issues entrusted to him by the community. More than anything, moving heavy objects or patrolling certain areas. Given that most people were elderly, it was understandable.

Feeling free was satisfying. It was nice having a personal sense of purpose, liberated from the weight of carrying a team, and away from the possible repercussions of his decisions. There were no external pressures, no responsibilities beyond those self-imposed, and although there were nights when he missed his brothers, video calls were more than enough, as Donnie had gifted him a high-tech device before he left. Things were far better than alright… until winter wore off.

On the first morning of spring, Leo awoke to a familiar heat rising in his lower belly, prompting a strong urge to relieve the discomfort. He groaned. It only worsened with time. Regardless of the hour of day, he found himself suddenly lost in thoughts about his sexual toys, and all the ways he could be using them. The more he tried to distract himself, the more the memory of the relief they provided infiltrated his every waking moment.

Leo hummed, pressing a hand down his plastron, over the area that ached the most. It was beginning to get pretty sensitive. Bad sign.

Perhaps the villagers wouldn't be alarmed if he missed work for just one night, but as the next night came, and the next, and the next, things showed no sign of improvement. Leo began to feel more than just anxious. To make matters worse, at this point, not even fucking his fist was enough. It helped get his mind clear for the day, but the underskin burning never quite faded.

Leo turned over his leaf-makeshift bed, which now seemed ten times more unpleasant, and tried in vain to suppress the urge to go out and figure out how to make it more comfortable for himself and his ma– Leo snorted at the thought. It was horrible to endure instincts conflicting with rational thought. There had never been such a thing as a 'mate' in his life. A couple of partners, sure, but nothing close to someone who saw him like this. The mere thought of being unable to hold back or keep composure twisted his stomach.

“Fuck—” he sighed under his breath.

His hand closed around his shaft, gripping it deliciously as he moved it fast-paced. Small whimpers fell from his lips, heat spreading through his body. The peak of the season was the worst part of it.

His head fell back as he hissed, hooded eyes locked in the sky as he chased his release. His voice rose more than he'd like as he came loud and long, spilling hot loads all over his plastron.

Leo coughed before catching his breath. He cleansed himself with a rag dampened in cold water, the sensation leaving him slightly dizzy. Every inch of his body ached. As he focused on the soothing coolness, a faint sound of footsteps reached him. He sharpened his hearing; an agitated breath came with it. Someone dared to trespass into his territory.

The mere thought sent anger coursing through his veins, propelling him hastily toward the origin of the sound. He landed with a resounding thud, causing the scattered branches on the ground to snap beneath his weight. The intruder staggered backward. His katana reached their throat, halting mere inches before the tender flesh.

As the moonlight cast its glow, clarity washed over his vision: a woman, draped in an ethereal white fabric, lay sprawled on the ground. The wind carried her scent to his nose, and he instinctively covered his snout with his forearm before retreating, concealing himself behind a sturdy tree. His pupils dilated, taking her in.

"What are you doing here?" Leo rasped.

— – -

You gasped a couple of times before digesting that what you just saw was not human.

It’s okay, you said to yourself, It’s him. It's the same voice, steady, gravelly, and with a hint of sparkle. He who had rescued you so many years ago. He, who took care of everyone in the village. He, to whom the elders held respect and affection. Once you caught your breath, you began to recite long-memorized lines.

"Mighty spirit of the wild, protector of the jungle, I— I have been sent as an oblation for you to do as you please. If that brings you back to our aid."

Leo scoffed, disbelief evident in his expression. "They forced you here?" Anger was palpable in his voice. Perhaps he had been protecting the wrong kind of people.

"No!" you quickly clarified. "I offered myself.”

Your scent was intoxicating: sweet with a hint of spice. He focused on breathing through his mouth.

“Why?”

You gave one step closer, cautiously. “Consider it a payback. For your help to everyone in the village.”

"Payback?" he sneered. “I came back of my own free will. You owe me nothing.”

The urge to approach and tap your cheeks was gnawing at him. Fuck, he hated not to be in his freaking right mind. Hold it, Leo chanted in his mind. Hold it just for one more minute.

"I still want to lend you a hand,” you mumbled. “I- I have worked customer service, so I understand that taking care of other's needs constantly drains energy. I just thought you might want an extra hand."

Why was your voice suddenly so alluring? He huffed, exhausted.

"You offered yourself as a sacrifice bridal because you think I'm burnt out?"

You could hear a certain tension in his voice, stitched with a hint of sass—although, he seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth. Was he in pain?

His tone was harsher than he intended, perhaps due to the embarrassment of enduring his heat in the worst possible way. The branches and dirt cracked under your weight as you approached. Leo tensed, gripping his katana tightly.

“I know I may not have all my screws in place, but I wanted to return the favor for all the times you’ve saved us, that’s all. Help around in any way you see fit, whether it's assisting with chores you're too tired to do or whatever else you wish."

Your voice was as soft as a velvety touch wrapping around him, sensually caressing him like the finest silky fabric. It sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed a gasp when you reached his side. His heart rate surged, echoing through every blood vessel. Leo moved back, the sharp katana once again mere inches away from your face, yet this time, trembling like he wasn't strong enough to hold it.

You raised your hands, palms showing. "But it's up to you. I really don't want to disturb you further."

You observed him wrestling with inner turmoil, his face taut, burdened by indecision.

"You don’t understand what you’d be getting into." His gaze matched the depth of his voice.

"Tell me."

Leo exhaled heavily, whispering, "I'm burning."

He sounded like he was dying.

“Are you sick?”

You took a step closer, and his face became much clearer.

He let out a sort of sardonic laugh. “No.”

Then you saw it: desire blazing bright in his eyes. You took a deep breath, considering. He remained as still as if he was another three in the green landscape. It hit you right there.

"Spring is when the reproductive cycle of life forms begins, isn't it?" you were searching for toned-down words so as not to make him uncomfortable. “That's what's happening to you," you stated, half matter-of-factly, half realizing it.

"Then you understand what it would mean to stay and help me," he said. "So leave. Run back, I'll guard your flank."

You stood your ground, despite your shaky legs. “I'll help.”

“What?” he gasped in disbelief.

“I won't go back as a failure, and I won't let you suffer when you've broken your back to keep us safe. I will help you.” you stated. The resolution in your voice made him shiver.

"You don’t get it," he said, feeling every ounce of self-control slowly dropping off his body.

Shit, he wanted to just accept. Why was he even holding back? Bet you were such a slut, bet you were thinking how would it feel to have your pretty cunt so fucking stretched by his knot.

“I do. You need reli-”

"No, you don't," he snapped. The blue mask framed the gravity of his expression. "When I start, I won’t stop. Not even if you beg, not even if you cry. Is that clear?"

You swallowed hard, your voice carrying a slight tremor as you responded, "Yeah."

"For as long as it lasts, I won't let you leave. You might get hurt... do you understand?"

"Yes," you muttered, finally mustering the courage to slowly push the sword out of the way. He allowed it, his eyes guarded.

You aimed closer, taking one steady step after the other. Your hand reached out until the tips of your fingers finally grazed his plastron. You slid them until the full palm pressed against it. He shivered under your touch, a faint sound escaping his lips. A moan?

There was a different glow in his eyes when he settled them back on you. They shone like he was seeing something beyond. His hand closed around your wrist, pulling you. Your chest crashed against his front, knocking the air out of you. Another mutant hand gripped you tight on the opposite side. His face landed on the crook of your neck. He growled as he took a deep breath before letting out a sigh. You held your breath.

Leo stopped, his agitated breathing inches away from your ear. Raspy, desperate, needy.

"Wait here. I'll come back for you in an hour," he instructed, reluctantly breaking the embrace to hold your face. You moved with him as he seemed to rock you. His forehead was inches away from yours. "This is your chance to flee."

He let go, and as if he were indeed a ghost, he vanished into the shadows of the night.

—--------

You waited until the thin clouds finished traveling the night sky, clearing it entirely, allowing the stars to shine. For a moment, doubt crept in, making you wonder if he would return.

"You stayed," he muttered in disbelief.

You snapped back, scanning for the source of his voice. He landed before you, a smoother descent this time. His demeanor underwent a subtle change, softer and tinted with a hint of nervousness.

"Follow me," he instructed.

You stood up, shook the dirt off the white cloth covering you, and trailed behind him through the vines and bushes. With his sword, Leo skillfully cut through some overly dense branches, making a path for you.

"Where are we going, ghost?"

"To a secluded place," he said. After a brief pause, he added, "My name is Leonardo."

You snorted. He halted, casting a quizzical look over his shoulder.

"Sorry, I was expecting something less... ordinary," you chuckled. "It's a beautiful name; a bit too formal, tho. Can I call you Leo?"

He smirked, resuming his pace. You were easy to talk to, a quality he found comforting. "Sure. So, what's yours?"

You shared your name, and he said it back. “Pretty.”

His voice, along with the praise, made your belly tingle.

He took you to a kind of cenote a couple of meters below. The surroundings stole your breath. Various shades of green foliage reclined on moss, bathed in the glow of a mellow fire dancing near the shore. The light cast the reflection of the water swells upon the walls of earth and rock.

Beyond the flames of the campfire, there was a makeshift… nest? —more resembling leaves intertwined over the mushy moss— stacked beneath a rock bowl. The scent of flowers lingered heavily. There would likely be more than a couple on the seemingly soft pile. It looked like he had been living there for a while.

The feeling of his hands on your sides jolted you. You turned. He was looking down at you, his gaze intense, silently conveying a question, hungered for answers. His teeth clamped together, still in pain, it seemed. You placed your hand over his.

"It's okay. I'm not afraid."

"No?"

Leo cupped your cheek, his fingers gently tapping. It seemed like something he couldn't suppress any longer. In an attempt to reciprocate, you did the same to him, using both hands.

“No.”

It must have struck a nerve because he yanked you from the spot where you stood, practically tossing you into the heap of leaves. He landed above you, a hand behind your head. It was so sudden that it made you dizzy. You clung to the edge of his plastron as he pressed you against it.

Leo caught your mouth. His kiss was deep, fervent, demanding, exuding an almost fuel-ignited heat. His tongue interlaced with yours, and he moaned when you kept up with him.

You gasped for air when he let go. A pang of bolt-like tickles sprouted and spread from your belly through your veins, and they reverberated through every place he explored with open, calloused palms. He dragged his hand across your side, all three fingers groping your breasts ravenously, pinching your nipples above the fabric. You gasped.

Leo carried his kisses to your neck, nibbling at it right over your pulse line, sucking the soft flesh hard enough to make you yelp. That would leave a mark. He grinned over the bruise before finding another spot near it to make another.

You felt his grip over your thighs as one of his hands had somehow found out how to go past that ridiculously long bride-like dress. You embraced him with your legs, pulling him close to your core and arching your back as if you were in heat alike upon feeling his front so tight against your cunt.

He humped over your clothed slit, pushing your legs wider to accommodate himself, after which he thrust again, this time letting out an earnest groan right into your ear. His hot breath against your skin gave you goosebumps.

You whimpered, seeking a place to anchor yourself. Slipping a hand through the top of his shell, you secured yourself to his broad shoulders as he kept grinding on you frantically.

You spread your legs wider in an attempt to feel the friction better. The lower part of his plastron was soaked, and the slimy moisture seeped through your clothing smoothly. It felt so good that you started clenching and unclenching to increase the sensation.

His voice quivered as a hot liquid damped you down, sticking to the clothes. You remained there, fixed as he caught his breath. Leo got up on his knees. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. You could then notice every perfectly formed muscle on his body. Below his belly, his cock was glistening with the slick of the previous cum. His size was not as intimidating as the knot at the base, swollen and somewhat red. He looked almost immaculate.

Leo removed the blue bandana in one swift movement, and in the next, he ripped off the ruined dress off your body. He panted, gaze lusting over your nakedness. His predatory gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

"Such a pretty little cunt," he said with a half-grin on his face. "Not wide enough to fit me, tho. Gotta fix that first."

He pushed your labia open with raspy thumbs before leaning down. You breathed in sharply upon sensing his snout so close. Leo licked a stripe over your slit, steady and soft. You gaped, holding his head with trembling fingers. His tongue was thick, mushy-like. You moaned when he circled it over your clit, before sucking on it. Your hips snapped up, offering as much of yourself as he was willing to take.

Leo lingered there, feasting on your puffy nub. You closed your eyes, head falling back. Soft whimpers and sighs echoed through the place as you squirmed between his arms.

He slid back to your entrance and pushed in, moaning at the taste. After a couple of testing thrusts, he began fucking you with his tongue: sleek, hot, and skilled in a way you weren't prepared for.

You pushed his head deeper into you so your clit would rub against his snout, building an exquisite warmth inside your belly. Leo sensed you tensing under his grip, and he gave until the hot, sweet spasms of your walls told him you were satisfied.

His cock pulsated more with each passing moment, aching to get entirely sucked by your hot insides, and move. But fuck, if Leo retained yet one ounce of self-control, he committed it to ensure he wouldn't harm you that much.

A fine line of saliva followed him for a fraction of a second when he pulled away, panting. He cleaned his face with his palm to then fist his cock, right above the swollen knot. You lifted your legs by pulling them towards you from behind the thighs, gaze thoroughly hypnotized by the sight of him lining with you.

Leo let out a breathy moan as he pushed into you, the heat, the softness, and the sight taking away the last drops of his rational thought.

The stretch stung slightly, but god, other than that, it was heavenly smooth. He bottomed out. Before he even moved, Leo spilled one hot load after the other, brimming you with cum.

“Fuck—,” he panted.

His chin rested on the crook of your neck. Your hands flew to his back, and you caressed his shell lovingly. His breathing evened with each controlled exhalation, yet the grip of his fingers over your flesh hadn't relaxed one scrap. It gave you the impression that he was holding back. Despite his feral desires, on the verge of losing his mind to pure instinct, he remained steadfast in his commitment not to harm you. Your heart melted.

“It's okay. I can take it,” you whispered tenderly, leaning your head over his, embracing him further.

“No, this is— this is enough.” he gritted, voice sore.

“Hey, I don't like giving half-heartedly. I told you it was alright," you told him, but it didn't seem like it was going through his stubborn head. So you changed the tone to try your luck. "Besides, I like how you feel inside me. I bet you'd fuck me so good."

His breath hitched.

You grinned, clenching around his cock. “I bet you’re wondering how it’d feel, if you pushed your cute knot inside me.”

“Stop it.”

“Why?”

“I can’t— “

“Say you don’t want to.” you pulled his face to make him look at you. Hooded eyes bearing such a delightful dark gaze. He was about to snap, just one more small push. “Say you don’t want to breed me so fucking much it drips off my cunt. Say it, and I’ll shut up and let this to your own devices.”

His pupils dilate entirely. "Say that again."

"Breed me so good."

He kissed you at the same time he thrust, setting a frantic pace. His dick felt heavenly. It effortlessly reached the best spot inside you. You kept him pinned in the right place with the clasp of your legs, getting friction over your clit.

He forced the pulsating nub inward, the stretch sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Ah— shit, yes. Yes.” he gritted, his voice drunken-like.

Irrepressible moaning streamed like a pretty song as his pace quickened. Leo sounded so fucking hot, relishing the instant. His orgasm triggered your own. Your back arched, and he slipped his arms underneath you, bringing you impossibly near to him as his dick pulsated deliciously, spreading the warmth within him through you.

Leo didn't stop after that. He continued to fuck you until your inner thighs bled from the continuous chafing against the edges of his shell, babbling something about pretty babies with your eyes. He was thoroughly unbound, mind spinning, burning as much as his passion for you.

At some point, reality became a vaporous reflection on tempered glass. You were facing him at one moment, and then next, Leo held you by the hips as he ravished you in doggy style. His groaning, along with the lewd sound of wet skin slapping, anchored you to consciousness just enough to feel him spilling another hot wave of cum.

— – -

You woke up to the soft symphony produced by the combined sounds of the jungle—small animals rustling their wings, the wind whispering through the branches, a distant echo of a bird's song. The sun bathed the water in light, creating small waves that reflected the tranquil movement of the water all around.

Every inch of your body ached so intensely that the mere contemplation of movement welled tears in your eyes. Perhaps it had been too much. When you tried to shift, you felt something wet adhering to the skin of your thighs. Looking down, you found seaweed moistened with a scent that resembled a subtle mix of herbs.

A firm hand caressed your arm, and you tensed. However, the grip was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to touch you. Slowly, you turned around. There he lay, gazing at you with bright, guilt-filled eyes.

"Good morning."

“Hello,” you greeted back.

"I'm sorry. It was-"

It's okay," you interrupted, placing a hand over his own. "I signed up for it. I told you I'd tough it out. Don't be too hard on yourself."

His gaze softened.

"Yet, I'm sorry I hurt you."

"You followed his gaze toward the area closed off with herbs. Bruises spread underneath. Then you noticed that, except for those bruises, you were pristine, and so was the place where you slept.

"You cleaned me up?"

"I had to do something for you. Although I know it's not enough, it’s a beginning," he said, fluttering the tips of his fingers near the damaged area.

"Thanks. So, is it over, or…?"

"The worst part is, we should be okay as long as someone keeps her mouth in check," he teased.

You chortled. "Sorry, not sorry."

He shared a laugh with you. Just as it subsided, Leo drew you into a tender embrace, snuggling you in a way that set your heart aflutter.

"I'm gonna keep you safe," he whispered.

You froze, a touch overwhelmed by the unexpected affection. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. The moment lingered until a rumble from your stomach shattered the magic. Your cheeks burned bright red. Leo chuckled softly.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

#tmnt smut #tmnt dark content #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2007 leo #tmnt 2007 movie #tmnt post 2007 movie #tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader smut #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo 2007 #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt 2k7 #tmnt bayverse

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wannaeatramyeon · 8 months

Text

Goo Kim x Reader: Dating (feat. Gun)

G/N. Requested. Fluff

"Who is this mysterious sexy man?" Goo chuckles, "It's ME!"

He thrusts the trashy tabloid in Gun's face. That ridiculous headline and Goo's mug plastered on the front page, arm around one of the most sought after K-Pop idols.

Mysterious? Sexy?

Gun peers at the photo and thinks that Goo looks like how he always does.

An idiot.

Lips stretched into an open mouthed grin. Eyes crinkled. Hideously garish suit. Stupid bleached hair.

Some of his meagre charm must be doing something though, because the idol's smile reflects his. A touch more sane, a lot more sincere, and very much besotted if the way they're looking at the blonde is anything to go by.

"They're boring though," Goo leans back, studies the idol's face that he is casually bedding and dismisses them.

One word, cutting and cruel: "Next."

"Either answer it, or turn it off."

"Nope!"

Gun glares at him. The phone continues to vibrate, buzzing noisily on the table.

It stops.

For now-

One..

Two...

Three...

And like clockwork-

It starts ringing again.

Just like it has done for the last ten minutes.

Fuck this. Gun grabs the device and hurls it onto the floor. It smashes with excessive force, a complete overkill, into the marble tiles.

The screen cracks, flashes, then dies.

"You're doing me a favour," Goo taps his long fingers against the table, unconcerned and disinterested, peering out the window, "They were getting clingy."

They being the supermodel that walked the Paris runway last week. Graced the front cover of the September Issue the week before.

It didn't matter.

His interest putters out like it always does. Goo is done with them.

"Ewwwww, tasteless!"

Gun catches a glimpse of a suit nestled in a gift box, logos of one of the most expensive and exclusive fashion houses adorn the tissue paper.

"Throw it away! Trash it!" Goo instructs and the HNH assistant scurries away.

"Ugh," The blonde pulls a face, as if the lingering presence of the ugly garment is still offending his delicate sensibilities.

Grabs his phone (new and top of the line) out of his pocket and makes a show of blocking someone.

He throws his arm around Gun's shoulder.

"You'd think a chaebol heir-" Stressing chaebol and heir with a smug waggle of the eyebrows, "-would have better taste. I can't be with someone with such awful style!"

Gun pushes him away, "I don't care. Shut up."

Goo has a new obsession.

Used to let his phone ring out. Used to ghost people for days, weeks, months, before reaching out again. (If he does reach out, that is.) Relish in playing mind games and gaslighting.

Now he picks up after the second ring. Murmurs, voice cooing and sickly sweet, into his phone.

Excuses himself "I have to take this," and walks out of meetings with Charles Choi and the HNH board.

Is unavailable on weekends and evenings. Snaps "I'm busy," when Gun offers the moneymaker a chance to make more money.

Then the new obsession turns into an ongoing obsession.

Your name flashes on Goo's phone screen.

Your name is one that Gun has, against his will, grown familiar with.

He has heard more than his fair share of your interests and hobbies. How great you are, how talented, how wonderful. The way your hair gleams in the light, how your eyes sparkle when you laugh. How you always beat Goo in games, "Y/N must be cheating!" he would screech.

And, according to Goo, has the most deliciously mean sense of humour. "You could never be as funny as Y/N." Goo sneers, as if it was a competition. As if Gun ever wanted to be seen as funny. Or to make Goo fucking Kim laugh.

Gun couldn't give a shit. Gun couldn't care less. But since when did Goo care what Gun thinks.

So Goo rambles, voice rushed and excited, telling him everything about you even when Gun tells him to shut the fuck up and tries to uppercut him on the jaw.

"You're getting too attached." Gun tells him one day. Not that Gun cares, but Goo Kim happy is insufferable.

He expects a glare, an insult. Eyes narrowed behind glasses and venom.

Goo's response surprises him. Gun never expected this.

A shrug and a lopsided smile. Goo is resigned to his fate. "Yeah," he agrees.

He knows he is too attached to you, and he has no intention of ever changing that.

#slightly different format with fic requests!#my inbox is overwhelming me #lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #lookism fic #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo x reader #kim joongoo #gun park #wannaeatramyeon

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obsolescent · 3 months

Text

Happy Birthday, Leon

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: As Leon’s assistant, you help keep everything organized for him. One day while arranging some papers on Leon’s desk, you stumble across his birthday. Noticing that it’s only a few weeks away, you begin to prepare a surprise celebration for him, unbeknownst to you how Leon feels about said day.

Author’s Notes: Hey! This was not planned, but I was like oh, wow, the day I headcannon as Leon’s birthday is April 1st…Should I? And so I did lol. This follows a few HCs I have for Leon! I couldn’t sleep anyways and needed something to take my mind off some real life issues occurring, hope you enjoy! (I cut it close with this one lol).

Content Warnings: Angst, mention of losing parents, grief, gender neutral language used for reader, Leon and the reader have ties to the southern United States, fluff, Leon healing his inner child.

Without you around, Leon would surely be running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

You think about that metaphor and grimace, realizing how dark it actually is. With a shake, you rid your mind of it and resume your task. Leon had to abruptly leave for an important meeting that was called at the last minute. You could hear him bitching about it the whole time while scrambling for the necessary papers for said meeting, and Leon had left his office in complete shambles.

Your smaller office was connected to his, ‘yeah, an office, if you could call it a room even, more like a shoebox,’ and after throwing the door into the wall with a BANG and a rushed “Meeting, be back whenever,” Leon was gone. After settling your heart rate back to its regular rhythm, you had gotten up and checked the wall for any doorknob shaped dents.

Praying to the Lord that the doorstop still does its job after the one thousandth time of being repeatedly smacked, you glanced into his office and stopped. Typically, about once a month you like to help Leon out with his space, straightening things up for him, but this…

‘I don’t know how this man works like this…I can only imagine what his house is like.’

Back in the present and at the task at hand, you start with the papers thrown about the floor, gathering them together. You begin to sort them by the date, noticing that some even have footprints on them! ‘This man…’ you groan, trying to dust the sheets off, only succeeding in smudging the dirt further.

Stacking the documents off to the side, you begin clearing off the top of Leon’s desk, grabbing dirty mugs with old coffee in them and pouring them out in the sink in the kitchenette. You carry a roll of paper towels, disinfectant spray, and a duster back to his office.

Dusting what little trinkets he had on his desk, you run it over his desktop computer and its keyboard. Trying not to apply too much pressure when you start going over the keys, you manage to bump into the mouse, waking the computer from its sleep.

Glancing at the screen, you notice it didn’t lock. ‘He’s like a secret agent or something, right? Why does he not have this locked? Or…Could it be that he doesn't know how to?” You think back on how God awful he is at working any device, having to sometimes ask multiple times a day for help. You let out a puff of air and grin, already thinking about how you’re going to bring it up once he’s back.

Though, something catches your eye on the screen. His personnel file is pulled up.

He isn’t really secretive about his background, more like you never have an opportunity to ask about it. Leon’s mentioned friends and some semblance of a family, and if you try hard enough you can still make out a southern drawl on the tailend of some of his words.

A small peek wouldn’t hurt.

You bend over, face just a few inches away from the screen, and begin scanning, finding the first one you’re looking for.

‘The southern lilt makes sense now!’

Seeing that he comes from a small town, a smile forms on your face, thinking about the stories he could possibly tell you about it, the yapper he is. You store the location into your brain, planning to do your own research later.

The next one that catches your eye is his date of birth. ‘April Fool’s Day? Oh, poor guy probably got so much shit for that in school. I bet his parents had a hard time convincing their family that he was actually born that day and it wasn’t a prank. Also an Aries, fitting for him’

You laugh at your thoughts but freeze, your gaze moving to the small calendar propper up on his desk.

‘That’s in 3 weeks! Why didn’t he say anything?’

He may not care about it much? Some people, as they get older, don’t hold as much emphasis on things like that. Regardless, you’ll do something for him, it’ll be small and simple, but hopefully it’ll open him up for more discussions about his past, or at least put one of those rare smiles on his face.

You finish cleaning up his office and put away the supplies, brainstorming ideas for the rest of the day.

As his birthday gets closer, you sneak in decorations a little at a time, not wanting him to catch onto what you’re planning. The night before the big day, you tell Leon you’ll be staying later to catch up on some paperwork. None the wiser, he nods, going back to his computer screen.

Once he’s left for the day, your plan is set into motion.

You pull out the items stashed in the back of your desk’s drawers, starting with a banner, each letter a different color painted on burlap, spelling out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. You tape it to the front of his desk, then move on to the kitchenette. You pull out a tablecover, white with polka dots the same color as the letters on the banner. You set two party hats down on the table, laying out the candles you’ll be putting in his cake–er pie?

Trying nonchalantly to ask about his favorite desserts, he had mentioned he hadn’t had pecan pie in awhile, that it used to be one of his favorites. Thanking your granny for always making one for almost every holiday, you knew that recipe off the top of your head.

You triple checked that it was still in its container in the fridge. ‘It hasn’t grown legs and walked off.’ You giggle at the thought and shut the door, going through the space to check once more on your handiwork.��

Satisfied, you shut the lights off and lock up, a bounce in your step as you walk to your car.

You’re up before your alarm screams at you, too excited about today. You head into the office earlier than usual, getting the pie out from the fridge and setting it on the table, sticking the candles in it.

You feel like your body is literally vibrating from excitement, not knowing why you’re so thrilled.

I mean, yeah you’re throwing a surprise party for Leon, but there’s something else there. Maybe it’s that you get to do something for him? You do feel a bit giddy whenever he thanks you for tidying up his office, his lopsided smile making your own smile turn into a grin.

‘Maybe you have a crush on Leon?”

Oh, it could be that. Dude’s hot, a bit dorky. A flirt, too, even if he doesn’t mean to come off that way. You could see it. You don’t have long to contemplate the thought, hearing his Jeep pull up.

Screaming internally, you rush to grab your party hat and throw it on, turning off the light and moving to stand in the middle of the room.

The door opens with a soft chime. Leon steps into the foyer, muttering, “Why the hell are the lights out?”

Leon walks into the room and flips the switch, and you scream, “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEON!”

You startled him it seems. Leon jumps back, hand hovering over his side before realizing it’s just you, and his hand drops.

‘Damn, he almost pulled his gun on me, maybe that wasn’t the best idea, next time I definitely won’t–’

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Snatched from your internal monologue, you stare at him.

He seems…upset?

“Uh, w-well, back a few weeks ago, I was cleaning your office and saw that your file was pulled up, I happened to glance at your birthdate! Also, it totally makes sense, like, of course you’re an Aries. Athletic, brave, charming, stereotypical and…”

You trail off, your rambling dying off at his hardened expression.

Leon walks towards you.

He’s not the tallest man, but with the expression on his face along with his body language, you feel minuscule.

You try to ease the tension in the room, by babbling, of course.

“I made you a pie, pecan! Y-you said you hadn’t had it in awhile, and my family makes a really good one, it’s actually my granny’s recipe–” He holds a hand up to silence you.

He walks back to the front door and locks it, before stalking past you into his office.

“Come in and close the door,” he says cooly.

Dread seeps into you, breathing beginning to pick up. ‘Is he going to fire me?’

You take a deep breath and release, turning and walking into his space, closing the door behind you.

You sit in the loveseat in front of his desk. It seems like the banner stares you down as well, seemingly mocking you in this turn of events.

He sits down in his chair and leans back, chin in his hand while he stares off to the side.

You stare at your lap, hands sweaty as you wring them.

“You have no idea why I don’t celebrate it.”

Your eyes dart up to look at him, but he’s still staring off, but his expression looks softer now.

You think he’s talking out loud, so you don’t answer, looking down once more.

“My parents died when I was younger. After they were gone, no one threw me any parties. No more gifts, no more cakes. I couldn't even tell the other kids because they thought I was lying about the date. So I stopped celebrating it. Kept it to myself, until now.”

Your heart hurts for him. The pain behind his words are evident.

“I’m so sorry, Leon,” you blurt out, unable to hold back the wave of emotions, “You deserve to have a happy birthday, with cakes and gifts and all, surrounded by those who care for and love you. I just wanted it to be a good day for you, I didn’t mean to bring back such awful memories.”

You’re a mess, the horrible feeling of guilt filling you, your eyes red with unshed tears. You rise from your seat and walk around to him, and Leon stands up on instinct.

You don’t even care if this isn’t professional at this point. You wrap your arms around his waist and embrace him, your tear soaked face soaking into his button up.

He says your name, “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he tries to comfort you as best as he can, going to pat your head and disturbs the streamers around the edges of the party hat you’re still wearing. You gasp and pull back, ripping it off and tossing it to the ground.

You apologize again, making your way towards the desk to pull the banner down. You’re pulling the tape off the corner when Leon’s hand stops you.

“Hey.”

Leon says softly, his fingers grasping your wrist, tugging your hand away.

“You said I deserve to have a happy birthday, don’t I?” He asks, and you jerk your head in a nod, “Of course, yeah.”

He smiles, “Well, there’s always today, it’s still my big day, ain’t it?”

He walks over and picks up the hat up off the floor, holding it out to you.

“Let’s start with that pie, I’m starvin’.”

#o fics #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fics #leon kennedy x gn!reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy headcanons

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iminseriousdebt · 15 days

Text

GENLOSS RAMBLE

Heyo! This is a little ramble I needed to make before the founders cut comes out! yipee!

(GENERATION LOSS SPOILERS)

So we can see in the above images the methods Showfall Media is using to control gl!Sneeg gl!Charlie and gl!Ranboo, they use an already pre-existing technology called an Electroencephalogram (EEG). Now this technology has been in use for decades, and essentially how it works is that it uses electrodes placed onto your scalp combined with a conductive gel to measure the electrical activity in your brain, these electrical signals are usually referred to as “brain waves” and these brainwaves can be subdivided into four categories, Gamma (greater than 30 Hz), Beta (13-30 Hz), Alpha (8-12 Hz), Theta (3.5-7.5 Hz), and Delta (0.1-3.5 Hz)

These different brainwaves are generally assosiated with different emotions, awareness levels, brain activities, etc. Now if Showfall Media has installed these onto sneeg, charlie, and ranboo, that means they have access to their thoughts and feelings, but brainscanning isn’t an absolute precise device, it still takes a lot of human effort and time to properly interpret the brainwaves. If Showfall somehow had a tool to easily interpret the signals they could much more easily operate, say, a live show. Lucky for them there is already a real life solution to this problem, kinda.

Its called Brain Generative Pre-Training Transformer, or BrainGPT for short. What its goal is, is to act as an assist tool for human neurologists to use in real neuroscience cases and case studies, what it does is it uses a Large Language Model (LLM) full of pre-existing human research papers and other neuroscience knowledge too vast for human comprehension. And whenever a neurologist hands BrainGPT a prompt, (such as anomalous finding or to asses the fields understanding of a certain topic) , “would generate likely data patterns reflecting its current synthesis of the scientific literature” (braingpt.org)

Now in regards to Generation Loss, what this means is that Showfall Media potentially has acces to this sort of technology, and would be able to use it in the production of their shows, now BrainGPT has a good way to go before its widely avalable. But in the genloss au, it can be far into development at this point, and be available for companies to use in whatever way they see fit.

Now reading and decoding brain signals is one thing, but to mind control someone is far beyond what is capable today, but Showfall Media has somehow developed technology to do so, the way I’m guessing they did it is that they produced certain brainwaves from the electrodes on the actors heads to give them the emotional reactions they needed for the show. I can’t exactly get into the technical stuff cause I’m not a neurologist, but its just a hunch on how I think they did it.

As for the mind controlling devices themselves, I feel there’s a more subtextual reason as to why those objects in particular are chosen as the devices that are central to the show’s operation. Ranboo’s mask has been a heavy emphasis throughout Gen 1 TSE,

Its been a central figure in not only generation loss’ marketing, but also ranboo’s marketing, because when you think of ranboo one of the first things that pops up is the mask, atleast in the wider public’s eye.

But these general associations not only exist with Ranboo, with Slimcicle you usually think of the wide brim glasses, with Sneeg its his backwards cap, and this is with the other cast members too when their introduced on the spinning carousel in episode 2. Furthermore, with Niki it’s that’s she's just so nice, with Austin its that he’s just a gay guy, and with Vinny and Ethan these associations don’t really exist. So, with Vinny he's just the “hoarder”, and Ethan isn't even introduced. And then there's Jerma, who is relinquished to a goofy character with a weird voice and a strange sense of humour which sort of fits his public image.

But what I wanna mention with Ranboo’s mask specifically is that with the three images shown on the genloss twitter of the control devices, sneeg’s is just a hat, like theres nothing special about it, just a hat with electrodes on it, when you take it off he’s completely in control of himself. But, with charlie’s it’s a good bit harder to just take it off. His glasses are drilled into his skull connected to electrodes which are also implanted in his skull, with an additional feature of a speaker in his jaw. But if you remove the glasses, there would be a lot of bleeding and his vision would be impaired, but he would still be a free man.

But with Ranboo, poor, poor, Ranboo… Like Charlie, they have electrodes implanted on to their brain connected to a switch on the back of their skull (which also may or may not also be connected to their spine, idk its hard to tell). These sprout wires that thread through the mask and lead into their throat, and the mask piece itself is sewn shut onto their SKIN.

Now this makes me wonder, why is Ranboo so heavily guarded when the other are (relatively) easy to set free? Is it because Ranboo is an integral part of the show and therefore high risk? Is it because Showfall needed extra resources for the chat to be able to control them?... Or is it because Ranboo tried to escape so many times before that they were forced to disfigure them to such an extreme degree, and yet somehow, SOMEHOW, they are able to resist, whether it be tapping SOS on their hand when they're on full control mode or shanking a Showfall employee with a dagger, Ranboo, Resists. But Showfall will never let them leave. Or they will? Idk founders cut hasn’t come out yet as of writing this, anyway ramble over. You can leave now.

#generation loss #genloss #gl!ranboo #gl!slimecicle #gl!charlie #gl!sneegsnag #ramblings #i wrote this at 3am please help #ranboolive #showfall media #hashtag #Yeah!

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autistpride · 2 months

Text

Autism Acceptance

Prompt day 7: Performer AU

Word count: 2500

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus was so excited he couldn’t stand it. He bounced on the balls of his feet and his fists shook up and down.

“I’d say he likes the gift,” Regulus said to Remus' mum with a laugh.

Remus could see them watching him to make sure he stayed safe as he made his way around the room. He was practically vibrating and he squealed.

“What did you expect? You just waltz in here and announce that you got Remus a way to meet his favourite people and didn’t think he would happy stim?”

“I knew my brother and his friends were his favourite but I didn’t think he would like it that much,” Regulus shot back with a laugh before his hand shot out as if he could stop Remus from across the room. Both Hope and Regulus gasped.

Remus ran into the table and then the doorway but his squealing and movement didn’t slow.

“He’ll feel that when the excitement wears off,” Hope said with a sigh and Regulus nodded.

Regulus left the Lupin home at the end of the day. Regulus had never realised when he became a personal assistant for the Lupin family, that he would meet someone who would become his friend. Remus was not that much taller than him and he used his communication device for speaking, although he did often express himself with facial expressions and the perfect noise to express his sarcastic attitude. Remus was the master of eye rolls, eyebrow raises, smirks, snorts, and scoffs as well as the ba-dum-tsh and wa wa wa noises.

Remus’ room was decorated in bright colours and his bed had a tent over it. He needed help with many life skills still, but none of that stopped them from becoming like two peas in a pod. Technically it was frowned upon for Regulus to have developed an attachment to a patient, but Hope and Lyall had confided in him that Remus had come out of his shell and made so much more progress with Regulus as his aid than he had with anyone else.

Remus also had a cutting dark sense of humour. The number of jokes about body bags and comments on eyes honestly bordered on concern to anyone who didn’t understand the way Remus thought. That alone was enough. But then Regulus found out that Remus loved music. And not just any music, a very obscure small group of people who sang children's songs but in different genres. Hope apologised many times when Remus kept humming the songs while swinging in his hammock chair and yelling in frustration when the older disc would skip or scratch but wouldn’t allow anyone to help him. He listened in his headphones to the same cd anytime he was overwhelmed or tired and so he was often never without the discman. One day when Remus was busy playing in the little pool set up out in the back garden, Regulus opened the old discman and was surprised to see his brother’s face smiling up at him.

Regulus’ relationship with Sirius was strained after all the things they went through growing up, but when he went home that day, he immediately called Sirius up and asked Sirius to meet him and to work through everything. They went to therapy together and over the months things had improved and while they would always have some hard feelings, they were friends again. So when Remus’ birthday came around that year, Regulus didn’t hesitate to ask Sirius if his friend Remus could meet Sirius. Sirius was confused why Regulus had a friend who liked his music, especially one made for children. After Regulus explained that Remus was autistic, Sirius readily agreed. He even asked what things were sensory triggers for Remus and made a list. He sent Regulus to the Lupin residence that day with the good news and ensured Regulus that he would take care of everything.

The days leading up to Remus’ birthday were long and yet too short for Remus. He was so excited the days seemed to drag on, but with every day that ended Remus would ask Regulus how many more days left. Pressing the buttons for “See friends today?” as a greeting. Regulus would laugh and make some sort of comment about how Regulus “could see where he ranked” or “I see how it is, not even a Hi Reggie.” That always made Remus laugh and he would say hello and then ask again. So Regulus helped him make a small calendar and everyday they would add a sticker to it to help count down the days.

The night before, Remus swung in his hammock and listened to his discman. Anytime Regulus looked at him, Remus would push a button on his AAC that said, “I’m so excited!” Regulus watched while working on the paperwork for the week and would always respond, “I know. I know. Tomorrow Remus.”

Remus went to sleep as soon as Regulus left at seven, saying that the faster he went to sleep the faster that it would be the day he met his friends. Then it was tomorrow and Regulus was knocking on the door. Remus opened it and his face dropped and he quickly pressed on his AAC, “its you.” he just held up for Regulus to read. Regulus snorted, “Hi Reggie. Morning.” Remus didn’t laugh this time and he frowned and held up his device again. “Yes, it's just me for now. It’s seven in the morning Remus, they will be here at ten. Okay?” Remus pouted but nodded and immediately went to his timer. Regulus took off his shoes and shut the door before crossing the room making sure Remus put three hours into the timer and set it back onto the shelf to count down.

When the timer went off three hours later Remus threw open the door. Regulus was across the room and dashed to Remus. Remus knew it was because Regulus was worried Remus was going to run into the road, but Remus wouldn't. Remus knew it was to ensure he didn’t leave without someone but it still was annoying that they didn’t trust him. Remus peered out the door to the empty front garden. It was ten. He set a timer. Remus glanced at his AAC. It was actually after ten now!

“I know you’re excited Remus, but they will knock when they get here,” Regulus said softly when he took in Remus’ dejected expression. Remus nodded disappointed and right before Remus closed the door a small blue Volkswagen parked on the curb. Remus gasped and quickly looked at Regulus who grinned, “Ya thats them.”

Remus clasped his device to his chest and shook while swaying on his feet and then froze, dropping his AAC when Sirius stepped from the car. This was why Regulus had insisted Remus keep the silicone case around it, even if Remus gnawed on it sometimes.

Remus held his hand out to Regulus so they could go out the door. Regulus knelt down and picked up the device and took Remus’ hand. Remus squealed and pulled Regulus over the grass to the vehicle and stopped right in front of Sirius. Remus stared at Sirius, unblinking before turning to Regulus and snatching his device from Regulus and quickly finding the buttons he wanted before holding it up to Regulus.

Regulus read it, looked at Sirius, and burst out laughing, “yes they would be perfect in it.” Remus smirked.

“What?” Sirius asked, confused.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Regulus asked.

Remus didn’t wait, he pressed play on his communication device and a slightly robotic male voice read out, “I want to add your eyes to my collection.”

Regulus couldn’t help laughing at the expression of confusion and slight worry on Sirius’ face followed by James’ as he had stepped out of the driver’s side while all of this was going on.

Remus narrowed his eyes at Regulus who stopped. “Okay okay I’ll get them.”

Sirius’ expression was one of visible panic and Regulus held his phone to Sirius’ face and took a close up picture of Sirius’ eye and then showed it to Remus. “This one good?” He asked and Remus nodded, mouthing the word wow over and over.

Remus knew people thought his fascination with eyes was odd. Many people had said so, thinking that just because he used an AAC device and needed help with everyday tasks, that he was stupid. They talked about him in front of him like he wasn’t there or able to understand the things they were saying. All his past personal assistants had and Remus had decided that if they were going to treat him like that he would just be like that. That’s all they thought he would be, so he stopped trying to show them otherwise. They had treated him like a burden.

That was until Regulus came along and he took the time to listen to Remus, to understand.

Remus carried Regulus’ phone into the lounge, staring at the picture. Sirius and James looked at each other and Regulus snorted.

“If you guys want to set up in the lounge, that would be great.” Regulus motioned to the fairly small but tidy lounge.

Sirius gave Regulus a small hug and then carried his guitar in. James carried an electric drum kit and his sticks. It wasn't the best, but worked in a pinch, and he could turn the sound down so it wouldn’t be as loud. Mary and Lily brought in the keyboard. Regulus took up the rear and closed the door behind them all.

They all arranged themselves in one area of the lounge. Hope tried to stay out of the way but brought out an extension cord with a power strip for them when they needed to get everything plugged in and they couldn’t all use the one outlet.

Regulus took his phone back from Remus with the assurance he would print the picture out for Remus so Remus sat in his hammock watching everyone setup and get ready. Regulus held out his headphones and Remus put them on as Mary counted them down and began.

Remus rocked in his hammock as he listened. After a few songs Lily sang a soft version of happy birthday as Lyall carried out slices of cake for everyone. Remus ate his cake while everyone chatted. He wasn’t often included in group conversations because there were so many people and they talked quickly, not leaving room or time for Remus to use his AAC.

But Sirius wouldn’t have it. He asked Remus questions or for his thoughts on the topic and waited for Remus to respond.

When the cake was finished, Remus slowly edged his way over to Sirius and gently ran his fingers over the guitar. Remus had watched the way Sirius played. He had this look about it, the same look that Remus felt when he listened to their songs or talked about eyes or cold cases.

“Would you like to try?” Sirius asked next to Remus suddenly and Remus froze as if he was going to be yelled at.

Sirius lifted the guitar off the stand and motioned for Remus to come closer. Remus stayed where he was watching Sirius ready the instrument again. Sirius slowly reached out, giving Remus time to pull away, before gently taking Remus’ hand and placing them on the strings. Remus looked at Sirius and Sirius smiled encouragingly and Remus plucked a string. It vibrated and the sound that it created made Remus so excited he squealed and his hands clenched into fists and shook.

They continued like this for sometime before Mary and Lily started to pack up. Sirius had James take his guitar out to the vehicle. Sirius then asked Regulus if he could stay longer and Regulus told him to ask Remus. So Sirius did and a shocked Remus nodded happily.

Sirius sat talking to Remus the whole rest of the time Regulus was on his shift. Regulus sat nearby watching while filling out the paperwork he had to do for the week.

Sirius asked Remus questions. What song did he like best? Did he have a favourite show? What about movies? What other things Remus was interested in. And he answered his own questions back for Remus to know the answers to.

He didn’t shame or judge Remus and when he found out about Remus’ fascination with eyes he asked what about them was so interesting. And Remus told him.

Remus liked the way the colours in the eyes melted together. He liked how the pupil changes shapes depending on the lighting. But mostly, Remus liked how the eyes held so much depth and emotion. How you could almost see someone's soul when looking at them.

Sirius stared at Remus like he had just said the most profound things and then begged Remus to let him write that down for him, that it was the most beautiful poetry Sirius had heard. Remus flushed with pride.

When seven pm rolled around, the clock sounded and Regulus started to pack up and put on his shoes when Remus darted to his room. Regulus watched from the lounge, making sure Remus went to his room and not out the door to the back garden and when the door slammed closed and Regulus sighed.

Sirius looked shocked and concerned, “Hey what happened?”

“He likely got upset you’re leaving. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him.”

Remus laid on his bed with the door to his tent closed and the blanket over his head. Remus heard the knock and ignored it. Sirius opened it and poked his head in. “Hey. I’m going to come in and just sit here okay. Regulus is in the lounge if you want me to get him.”

Remus bit his nails and picked the skin on his lips before eventually unzipping the tent. Remus looked out at Sirius who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and Remus’ AAC in his hands. Sirius looked up from his phone and smiled. “Hey, it's okay to be upset, especially when meeting new people and when having a lot of new experiences going on. And because the fun day is over.”

Remus scoffed and rolled his eyes. He knew it was okay, it didn't mean it didn’t suck that the best day of his life was ending and he would never see his new friend again.

Sirius laughed and held his phone up to Remus’ face, causing Remus to flinch. Sirius took a quick photo and then turned it to show Remus. “I think your eyes are stunning too.”

Remus smiled. Sirius pressed a few buttons on the AAC before holding it out to Remus. Remus played it, “see friend Sirius tomorrow?”

Remus beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“I'll see you tomorrow Remus,” Sirius said brightly and waved goodbye before leaving the room and the house.

Remus couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

#mauraders #actually audhd #wolfstar #platonic moonwater #my writing #autistic remus #autism acceptance

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mama-qwerty · 4 months

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Corruption

Dreams. He'd been having those dreams again. They come and go, sometimes staying for longer than he'd like. But they always ended in images of pain and destruction.

Knuckles couldn't understand why he was having them, or where they were coming from. The Master Emerald was safe. There'd been no odd surges in chaos energy. No outside threats that he could see or feel. The Emerald itself didn't seem to be too upset or anxious—as anxious as a giant rock could be—but it could sometimes sense odd vibrations in chaos or time which indicated something wrong.

Knuckles had felt none of this. It was as if the strange feelings were coming from himself.

But that was ridiculous. His only purpose in life was to protect the Master Emerald. If there was no threat to the Emerald, then everything was good, right?

Still, the dreams persisted.

He was getting worried. So worried, in fact, that he stood before his communicator, arguing with himself about whether or not to contact his friends. But what was he supposed to tell them? "I feel like there's something wrong, but the Emerald doesn't and I think it's all in my head because of these weird dreams I've been having"?

Gaia, he'd never hear the end of it from Sonic.

But the dreams wouldn't go away. And they were getting worse. Every day he woke in a sweat, hands shaking and heart pounding. But he couldn't remember the details. Just the feeling.

Pain.

Fear.

Confusion.

Destruction.

And one other.

Guilt.

He wasn't sure why. But that one made his stomach churn and feel as though it were full of lead.

He'd been losing time. One moment he'd be standing before the Emerald in the warm morning sun, and the next he'd be on his back in the forest, surrounded by broken trees as the evening approached. He couldn't remember anything between those moments.

He was scared.

He wouldn't admit it, would never say it outright or even verbalize it to himself. But he was. Something was happening to him, and he didn't know what. Didn't know why. But Tails might. He may be able to find out.

So Knuckles stood before his communicator. He'd only used it a handful of times, and Tails had made it so all Knuckles had to do was push a button to sound the alarm at the fox's workshop. His friends would come running as fast as they could to Angel Island, to help deal with whatever threat Knuckles had found himself needing assistance with.

But the echidna hesitated. What was the threat? The danger? He only had a vague feeling. Nothing concrete. But his fear was enough to make him move forward, reaching with a shaky hand toward the small device.

Right before his hand touched the big red button, a feeling came over him. His hand, his whole body shook, and his heart pounded in his chest like a war drum.

He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. A jolt of fear and shock and anxiety overcame him, and he watched as his outstretched arm changed. It was like watching something move through water—the angles all wrong and wavy. He uttered a surprised "What?" as the first bolt of pain ripped through him. He cried out, pulling his arm back as he watched in horror as the fur he'd known for his entire existence smoothed, the color changing in a swirling pattern.

Terror gripped him, and he lunged forward to pound his fist against the button. He needed help, he needed his friends. NOW.

The communicator shattered under the force of the impact, and he had time to hope that the message would still go through, right before his mind went blank.

-X-X-X-

"Do we have any idea what we're up against?" Sonic called as he stood on the wing of the Tornado. Tails shook his head as he brought the plane around to the flat area of Angel Island that served as their makeshift landing pad.

"It was strange," he said, checking the Miles Electric attached to the dash. "Knuckles' alarm sounded for a few seconds, then went dead. That could have happened if the communicator was destroyed. Whatever it is must be pretty bad."

"If anything's hurt Knuckles, they're gonna regret it," Amy called, her brow furrowed. "I'll make sure of it."

Sonic silently agreed. He stood on the wing as Tails brought the plane in closer. The kit didn't want to land yet, instead opting to scout the area to see if they could find the problem Knuckles had called them in to help with. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until they rounded the Master Emerald shrine.

"Holy Chaos," Sonic hissed under his breath, before raising his voice to be heard over the engines. He pointed at the base of the shrine. "What is that?"

Tails and Amy leaned over to look, and both wore identical expressions of shock and disbelief. What greeted them was a large . . . something, that looked part organic, part crystalline. Colors swirled over the creature, the pattern slow and seemingly calm.

Until it heard the plane pass overhead.

It lifted its . . . head(?) to . . . look(?) at them, and a seam split in the bottom to throw out a loud sound that seemed a mix of a roar, a shriek, and an unsettling almost musical tone. The soft pastel-ish colors that had been flowing over it turned deeper and more garish, and moved as though a visual representation of the thing's emotional state.

And right now, it looked pissed.

"That must be what Knux needed help with," Sonic said, dropping into a crouch, his brow furrowed. He flicked his eyes back and forth, but saw no sign of the echidna guardian. "I don't see Knux. This thing must have been too much even for him."

"If that thing's hurt him . . ." Amy growled, her teeth gritted. She was just itching to summon her hammer, but couldn't do it until they'd landed.

"I'll land and let you two take care of that creature," Tails said, turning to come around as he descended. "I'll make sure the Master Emerald is okay, and see if I can find Knuckles."

"Sounds like a plan, little brother," Sonic said, a familiar smirk on his lips. "Amy, you catch up when you can. I'm gonna see what this thing's got."

Before Amy or Tails could respond, Sonic was freefalling, rolling into a ball to land safely near the shrine. The creature seemed to hear him—sense him?—and turned toward the hedgehog.

"Hey there, big and ugly! What's a brute like you doing in a place like this?"

The creature lumbered forward, moving clumsily on its four limbs. It almost seemed drunk to Sonic, as though it wasn't as sure footed as it otherwise should be. The colors flowing over it had faded somewhat, but still moved in a pattern that seemed like a visual representation of 'alert'.

Sonic moved toward it, watching and waiting for that first attack. It uttered growls and other sounds that made his head hurt—as though he heard them in his mind instead of his ears—but he ignored it. If this thing had taken out Knuckles, there would be some payback owed.

"C'mon big fella," the hedgehog taunted. "Show me what ya got."

That seemed to be what the creature was waiting for, as it moved forward faster, moving at almost a gallop-like gait. Sonic let it get closer before launching into a spindash, hitting it square on the . . . well, where its jaw should have been. It didn't seem to have a face—just a spot with a few crystal-like shards sticking out.

The thing lurched to the right after Sonic's attack, stumbling and moving its limbs quickly to try and stay upright. Once it had regained its footing, it turned, swinging one of the massive forelimbs at Sonic. He avoided it easily, and threw himself in another spindash at the beast's side. It uttered what seemed like a surprised sound, before tipping over and hitting the ground hard.

Sonic stood back, rubbing a finger beneath his nose.

"C'mon, you're not even trying. Why would Knux need help with you?"

He stood and watched the creature push itself back to its feet, just as he heard Amy and Tails come running from behind.

"Sonic! Are you okay?" the kit called as he came to a stop next to his brother. Sonic waved a hand.

"This thing is literally a pushover. I barely touched it and down it went."

"That's odd," Tails said, rubbing his chin with a hand. "Why would Knuckles call for help if this thing is so easy to take down?"

"That's what I said."

"Where is Knuckles?" Amy asked, twisting her head this way and that to look for the echidna. "Did you see him?"

"No. Tails?"

"On it."

The fox kit hurried away, heading straight for the Master Emerald shrine to verify its safety, and see if he could spot the wayward guardian.

When Tails was just about to reach the base of the shrine, the creature's demeanor changed like a light switch. Its head snapped up, looking over toward the shrine, at the boy about to climb the steps. It issued a sound that had all three clapping their hands over their ears, before leaping to its feet and heading straight for Tails.

"Oh no you don't," Sonic growled as he zipped forward, curling into a ball to spindash directly at the thing's face again. It moved slightly faster this time, jerking its head to bat the hedgehog away.

Tails stood for a second, frozen in terror, before lifting himself into the sky. The beast launched forward, attempting to swat the boy out of the air, when a large, heavy hammer came down on its head, slamming it to the ground with a loud crash.

"Get to the Emerald!" she yelled, pulling her hammer back for another swing. "FIND KNUCKLES!"

Tails nodded, and turned to fly up to the gem at the top of the shrine. The creature suffered another blow from Amy's hammer, but the sight of the fox so near the Master Emerald seemed to enrage it and it lashed out, knocking Amy away as it tried to regain its feet to reach Tails.

Sonic was through playing around. He zipped around to gain a better attack point, and launched spindash after spindash, crashing into the thing's side, head, shoulder, and back again before it could get an inch closer to Tails. Amy returned with an angry shout, bringing her hammer down again and again on the creature's body, her worry for Knuckles and anger at whatever this thing had done to him overtaking her.

Tails made it to the top of the shrine, and surprisingly found a number of chao gathered around the large gemstone. Exclamation points floated above their heads, and they moved forward to surround the fox once he landed, pulling and grabbing him in an excited, almost panicked way.

"What? What's wrong? Is the Master Emerald okay?" he asked as the little creatures surrounded him. They grabbed him from all sides, climbing atop his tails and grabbing his arms as they tried to convey whatever had upset them.

Meanwhile, the battle raged below. The creature roared and swung at Sonic and Amy, but couldn't connect a solid blow. Every hit the two hedgehogs threw landed, and the beast began to slow as their attack tired it out.

Tails watched the fight from his vantage point, but the chao were insistent and would not let him go. He tried to calm them, tried to soothe them, but they were almost frantic in their behavior. As he tried to pull himself from their grip, he didn't notice he'd been backing toward the edge of the platform at the top. It was a good 30-40 foot drop down, and the chao on his tail meant he couldn't fly.

Sonic got another good hit in on the creature, sending it to its belly. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"This thing is a piece of cake. Why couldn't Knux take it down himself?"

"I don't know," Amy said, resting the head of her hammer on the ground as she watched it try to push itself back up. "I just wish we knew where he was."

As the two talked, the beast looked toward the shrine, anger surging at the fox that close to the Master Emerald. But it was moving away from the Emerald, which was good. It was moving closer to the edge of the top . . .

A new feeling shot through the creature, and the dark colors flowing over it in its anger and pain suddenly changed to an ice blue.

Protect. Help. Save.

The beast was up in a heartbeat, heading toward the shrine at a speed that Sonic and Amy would never have expected.

"Tails, watch out!" Sonic called when he noticed what was happening. He zipped forward but the creature was there first, pivoting around the side of the shrine and lurching forward with its hands cupped to catch Tails and his hanger-on chao just as they tipped over the edge. The fox and chao landed safely in the beast's hands, and were lowered gently to the ground.

"What the . . ." Sonic stood with his mouth open, just as Amy rushed to his side.

"Did I see what I thought I saw?"

"Why did it . . ."

Tails sat on the ground, the chao releasing him to hurry toward the creature. They patted the thing's side and caressed its head, the exclamation points changing to hearts.

"What are they . . ."

The creature shuddered, lowering itself to the ground as the colors flowing over it changed once more. At the top of the shrine, the Master Emerald glowed, and the creature's glow changed to match its green. As the three watched, the great beast began to shrink, the glow from it blinding them momentarily until it faded.

And Knuckles lay where it had been, battered and bruised.

"Oh great Gaia," Amy moaned, dropping her hammer and rushing forward to cradle Knuckles in her arms. "Knuckles? Oh, Knuckles! I'm so sorry!"

The echidna breathed heavy, his body shaking from the pain and confusion. He couldn't remember anything. He'd . . . called them, hadn't he? Why? Was there a . . .

Threat. There'd been a threat. Something had scared him, so he called them. Yes, that was it.

He lifted his head and blinked at each of his friends in turn.

"Is it . . ." He winced, his tongue running over the split in his lip. "Is the threat gone? Are you all okay?"

Sonic and Amy exchanged a glance. Amy kept holding onto Knuckles, pulling him to her in a tight hug. He grunted—he was injured, likely from whatever threat he'd called them to help with. She loosened her hold slightly, but did not let go.

"Where is the threat?" he asked, trying to push himself to his feet. "Is it still here?"

Tails moved around to stand near Sonic, and the two exchanged a glance.

"No, it's gone now," Sonic said, before taking a deep breath. "Knux, we need to talk."

#sonic fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog fanfiction #knuckles the echidna #sonic the hedgehog #tails the fox #amy rose

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gurokiitty · 2 months

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if reqs are open, what would happen if the reader managed to escape strade? i can imagine she did her best to act as if she loved him (like if she developed stockholm syndrome) but when least expected, strade finds out she’s gone??

LOL i love drama like that & i just gotta know how he would react!!

i luv your acc ☆〜（ゝ。∂）!!

a/n: thank you for your kind words! i absolutely adore drama too lmao, so i had fun with this. hope you enjoy :3c

{ strade x f! reader }

warnings/tags: generally SFW, stockholm syndrome, psychological and emotional abuse themes, flashbacks, dependency, reader was held captive before ren (to justify why he isn't in this LOL).

After months of careful deception, you learn to mimic signs of affection and dependency, crafting a façade of compliance. Gradually, you familiarize yourself with Strade’s routine, seizing on his rare moments of carelessness. This observation reveals where he hides his keys and the device needed to disarm the shock collar around your neck.

The day finally comes when he leaves you home alone, overly confident in your supposed submission. As his car vanishes down the driveway, a surge of fear and exhilaration grips you. You quickly disarm the shock collar and slip out barefoot, dressed only in the thin tanktop and shorts he provided.

Once outside, the stark reality sets in. Without belongings, money, or means to communicate, you find yourself overwhelmed by uncertainty. The unfamiliar streets and neighbourhood only heighten your sense of vulnerability.

Your deep-seated fear of what Strade might do to anyone who assists you, prevents you from seeking help. Remembering his threats and knowing his capability for cruelty, you avoid involving others as much as possible, fearing that any attempt they make to help could lead them into grave danger.

Upon discovering your absence, Strade's initial disbelief rapidly spirals into rage and paranoia. Anticipating that you might seek police help, he destroys any evidence of your captivity before starting his search.

Despite his rage and sense of betrayal, he is calculated in his approach, reviewing footage from hidden cameras he installed around the house to trace your last known direction. He predicts your likely paths and potential havens, using his intimate knowledge of your behaviours and fears to narrow down his search.

Meanwhile, he may begin to leave cryptic messages in places he suspects you might visit; each laden with intimate references designed to manipulate and unnerve you.

The longer you're free, the more you recognize how deeply your dependence on Strade has become. Every shadow and unfamiliar face triggers a panic that he might be lurking nearby. Despite your desperation for freedom, there's a twisted comfort in the life you left behind.

You find yourself grappling with survival on the outside—seeking food, shelter, and a semblance of normalcy. The harsh practicalities of life make you question whether you can truly exist without the perverse care Strade provided. Amid these struggles, you feel an overwhelming sense of isolation and disorientation.

After wandering the streets aimlessly, you eventually stumble upon a small, rundown shelter for the homeless; where the dim lights and hushed whispers contrast the nighttime silence you've grown accustomed to in his home. Lying on a worn cot, a memory of sleeping in Strade's bed unexpectedly floods your mind.

It was the first night he invited you upstairs, a night that marked a disturbing progression in your captivity—a sign that you had somehow earned his trust or, perhaps more accurately, successfully played into his delusions. This memory was far removed from the stark and unforgiving confines of the basement where you initially spent your days.

It feels surreal now, as distant and detached as a scene from another person's life. The warmth of his bed and the false sense of security he provided starkly contrast with the thin, scratchy blanket provided by the shelter. You remember how he held you close, his breath steady in the quiet room, making you feel, for just a moment, that you were something more than a captive. It was a night when the boundaries of your grim reality seemed blurred, and you almost allowed yourself to forget the bars of your gilded cage.

Now, lying amid the restless stirrings of others seeking shelter, you feel a stark loneliness. Here, there are no arms to hold you, no illusion of safety. You pull the thin blanket tighter around yourself, trying to stifle the shiver that runs through you, not just from the cold, but from the haunting clarity that here, in this place of refuge, you are utterly alone.

The following morning, as the grey light of dawn filters through the shelter's windows, you gather your sparse courage to face another day. Stepping outside, you draw a deep breath, bracing against the cold. Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on Strade's truck ominously idling at the curb. He's leaning against it, smoking a cigarette. He startles you—not just by being there, but by his calmness, as if this morning is merely another routine pickup, not the recapture of an escapee. "Good morning," he says, his voice disturbingly casual, as though the recent events were just a minor disruption. The street is mostly deserted; the few early risers are too wrapped up in their morning routines to notice your tense reunion. He pushes off from the truck and steps towards you, his movements controlled, almost gentle. "Let's go home," he says, his words sounding more like an invitation than a command.

As you climb into the truck, the familiar interior greets you—a stark reminder of your first time in this seat, marked by its distinctive coppery smell and the notable absence of a passenger-side handle. When the shelter recedes into the background, a wave of finality washes over you, and tears begin to stream down your face.

Upon reaching his house, Strade quietly guides you inside. As the door locks behind you, it becomes certain that you will never step foot outside again.

#mc will probably die a very painful death after this #btd strade #ykmet strade #btd x reader #strade x reader #btd headcanons #anon requests #headcanons

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britt-kageryuu · 23 days

Text

An unusual amount of people are watching Donnie doing some programming. He had explained that he was challenged to make a game within a relatively short time frame, but hadn't explained what the game was supposed to be about yet.

His model is seated at a desk, and only seen from the torso up. Wearing a very comfy looking purple hoodie with a few pride pins, Nonbinary, Ace, and Progressive Flage, his mask, and his goggles/headphones.

"Okay, so I know what I'm planning for this game is way more than it needs to be, and I don't have a good chunk of the 'story' figured out. But I had a burst of inspiration for the game. I just need to make it actually make sense, even in this very obviously fictional setting." Donnie explains as he continues to switch between the programming screen, and a section of the environment filled with lots of random notes of what the area might be for.

The chat is tossing around their speculations of what the game is about. Especially since one of the Notes says "Need to finish mock up model, and check for potential copyright issues."

Donnie is now very focused on part of the program that has a tag saying it's for a enemy AI, and a reminder to not go to far. "Before anyone asks about these notes and tags. I need to remind you that Shelldon started as an AI assistant that could control some devices like the Roomba through bluetooth, and look at him now! My handsome robot Son who is very very very smart." He continues to gush about Shelldon and River for a few minutes, "I almost forgot my point, SHELLDON had a glitch early on that caused him to stop listening to anyone, and almost lead a Roomba army out onto the world... He was fixed very quickly, and I only had to deal with him acting like a teenager for a few weeks as a side effect."

As he talked he opened a file titled 'VT Game Assets WIP', there were multiple files each labeled like 'coffee shop', 'studio AB', 'stage 1-5' and looked through a few different 'enemies' folders to figure which one he should use in the environment labeled 'New Start Entertainment'.

"Though really the only reason I'm getting through this as quickly as I am, is because we have a huge library of random props, outfits, and of course environments. All made by Mandarin and I for no real reason other than 'just incase'." Donnie takes a moment to stretch after sitting still for like 3-4 hours. "This game as a whole would probably be judged for how quickly it's coming together and assuming it's not worth their time."

He then pulls up the fighting system- a plain mannequin fighting what could be described as a feral possessed plush toy. Once again catching some more attention and sparking some more debates in what the game was about if it needed a combat system to continue.

"Well that seems to be working properly for now, we just need to adjust for the other parts of the main setting. And actually finish the protagonist and other characters models so I don't just have a mannequin placeholders. It looks too much like we're copying that one cartoon that's getting big."

Donnie gets hyper focused on the programming and ignores chat and donations for the next hour. With the occasional muttering about what needs to changed, or they need to redo some of the textures and art assets because they aren't lining up properly.

Chat somehow never figure out what the game was about, and still continued to cheer Donnie on for working on the game.

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

Masterpost Part 2

#vturtles!#vtuber au #rottmnt au #tmnt au #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rise donatello #rise donnie #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rise tmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt rise #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt

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soursvgar · 2 years

Text

Their favorite pet names ♡

demon brothers x gender neutral reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Lucifer ━ Darling, Dear

Make no mistakes, Lucifer always prefers hearing his own name, specifically when it's being spilled out of your mouth as a lingering whine, demanding him to avert his attention to you. However, if he already has to settle for a pet name of some sort, he would prefer a good old fashioned term you would use to title the first line of a letter with, if the two of you were star crossed lovers mailing each other through different worlds. (Because he's just dramatic like that, but the truth is, it makes him blush.)

"When you intimated you need my assistance, I didn't reckon a bake sale is what you had in mind. May I remind you of the outright failure we experienced when we attempted to bake hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies?" Lucifer shakes his head, sensing defeat from merely facing the ingredients laid across the table. "Well, I haven't invited you here to cook, don't worry. Your role is to supply entertainment and mental support, and also to stand guard in case Beel tries to infiltrate our mission." You reassure him with a grin, carefully tying an apron around his waist. "Now, be a dear and fetch me the recipe?"

Lucifer is quite stunned at your confidence to speak to him at this level, regardless, he cannot deny your dauntless attitude tugging at the strings of his heart.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Mammon ━ Babe

No explanation needed, it just makes sense. Use a confident, possessive tone when you say it and watch him quack and become as red as the roulette in the casino. In return, he will probably use a bunch of embarrassingly cringy pet names on you.

"Whaddaya mean you don't want me callin' ya my sweet snuggly crow princess in public?" Mammon frowns, huffing at the rejection of his advantages. "I think crows are cute, and so are you. Cute! My sweet snuggly c-" His sentence is cut short by your lips crushing against his own, leaving him with a loss of words and rosy cheeks. "Come on babe, stop being silly."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Leviathan ━ Weapon of (m)ass destruction

He doesn't have a preference, simply because anything you'd choose to call him feels like someone tore a rift in time and space and crowned him king of the three worlds. With that said, he particularly likes silly ones, or just anything normies wouldn't regularly use. It makes him feel special because you definitely haven't used that on anyone else.

"Hey, let me use your phone for a second. I'm gonna call myself since I can't find my cell." You mindlessly announce, grabbing his mobile device after a couple long minutes of patting the bed in hopes of finding your own. "Huh? w-w-wait, let me do that!" Leviathan hurries to try and eject the device out of your grip, but to no avail. Your fingers had already clicked their way through the different screens, leading you to his contact list. "Hm? You saved me as 'Only second to Ruri-chan in beauty'? Aww, Levi!" You coo, messing his hair. "Now I feel bad I only saved your contact as 'noob'."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Satan ━ Kitten

It is most likely a given (or a chewed up headcanon), but Satan is the embodiment of a cat and likes to be recognized for it; privately, of course. Rumor has it that if you call Satan by the following pet names of kitten, kitty or anything that resembles, it will awaken his inner feline and bring him to rub his cheeks against you, asking to be petted.

"Come here, kitty kitty." Satan looks up from his book at the melody of your voice, at first searching around to scope if a real cat is nearby. But with his sharp mind, he reads the situation almost immediately, cocking an eyebrow at your hopeful expression. "Huh? Are you referring to me?" You nod, holding out an arm as you gesture him to come closer. "Pspspspsps" Satan heaves a sigh, placing a bookmark inside one of the pages before he closes his novel shut and paces towards you. "Such a good kitty!" You praise, holding in your chuckle.

"Say one word to anyone about this, and you're dead meat, human. Understood?" Defeated, he tilts his head towards you and nuzzles against your extended palm. "Now... scratch behind my ear please?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Asmodeus ━ Prince/ss

No surprises with this one, Asmo is royalty and believes he should be addressed accordingly. He doesn't mind which version of the word is being used, as long as it comes with the acknowledgment that he's the most ethereal, majestic creature your eyes ever had the sanctified right to witness.

"No, no and no! None of these are on theme. I usually find good keeps in majolish, but this season their clothes are all off." Asmodeus falls into the velvet chair allocated at the store's fitting booths. You had accompanied him on a shopping trip prior to an event at RAD as he was in need of a new wardrobe for the occasion. "I kind of liked this outfit. I think it suits you!" You sheepishly smile, praying to be leaving the store before sundown. "Suits me is not enough! It has to be dazzling, breath taking, absolutely stunning!" He huffs, displeased at the selection of items at hand.

"I mean, it's the person who makes the clothes, not the opposite. It doesn't matter what you wear because everything looks so good on you, princess." The corners of Asmodeus' mouth stretches into a smile, but it differs from his usual smug, conceited one. It was a humble display of contentment at your compliment. "That's correct!"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Beelzebub ━ Babycakes, Pudding, anything food related

Think about it, what is one of Beel's biggest pleasures in life? What does he yearn for so much, that he can't clear his mind from it to the point it is brought up in every conversation he's having? Food. So it's only natural that using food related nicknames will make him feel as important to you as food is to him.

Beel licks his lips as his eyes skim through the grocery list. You had brought him along with you to a human world supermarket, assuming you'll be able to keep him at bay, except... you forgot to take one variable into consideration.

"Cheese, cheese! Come try our cheese!" You were doing a good job holding him back from finishing a whole tub of blueberries, but the announcement called from afar by a samples vendor made his ears perk up. It took all of your magical energy to stop him from storming that poor salesperson like a hungry wolf, but you've managed. "I'm so sorry, y/n... you know it's hard for me to resist human world food, and for free too..." Beel was pouting at you, genuinely feeling guilty for scaring the unfortunate human. "I know you're trying your best... you were doing so well today, my little cinnamon roll."

"Mm, cinnamon rolls... can we go get some now? Please?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Belphegor ━ Baby, baby boy

With every cell in his body, Belphegor loves being babied. As the youngest brother, he's often spoiled by his siblings and gets away with a lot. He's allowed to slack off, be rude or partake in the usual pranks and leave nearly unscathed because he's just so cute. Naturally, his pick to be called by his lover will be along those same terms of endearment and he will absolutely melt whenever you use them to address him.

"Five more minutes, I promise we'll make it in time..." Belphegor mutters sleepily, sheltering you between his arms as he snuggles closer to you. You take a peek at the clock, five minutes had turned to fifteen, but your weary demon refuses to let go of the bed, or of you. Sighing, you accept your upcoming fate of being scolded by Lucifer for your tardiness and reach to caress Belphegor's warm cheek, earning a soft hum in return. "You're gonna get us both in trouble, baby boy."

#The inspiration for this was actually a meme i saw on twitter #this is so silly lmaoo #obey me #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus

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ownedbythescribe · 1 year

Text

Wanderer/Scaramouche | Small Wish

ıllı Synopsis: Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche, and Wanderer. His life was a beauty in tragedy, and between those pages lies his encounter with you. Yet, where did you go?

ıllı Genre: Romance, Slight Angst

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Warning: Mention of death

ıllı A/N: I’ve finally finished it! I’m not sure if I gave him justice, but I love how this turned out. It’s a bit long, but I had to place things here and there to make sense. Please enjoy!

ıllı Part 2: Wanderer/Scaramouche - Heard Wish

"Who are you?" It is the same question I ask every time I dream of you.

I remember the comforting smile on your face, the warm hand that held mine, and the soft kisses you gave. Yet, I can't remember how you looked. I don't recall the person I fell in love with. Instead, I drown in the nightmares fueled by the whispers that say you are nothing but an illusion. It hurts. I want to see you, to remember you.

"Maybe we can be together for eternity in your next life." You mutter, holding my hand tightly. Salty tears trickle down your cheeks, but I can't wipe them away.

Why?

Because I know I died before you. I left you alone. I broke my promise to you.

Blinking the sleep away from your bleary eyes, you were met with the rattan roof that sheltered your slumbering form from the cold wind. Soft shuffles could be heard from below, so you rose from your bed and peaked at the source. It was Araja, waddling away with radishes in his arms. It seemed too much for the Aranara, so you rushed to his side and grabbed it for him. Ignoring his startled stance, you asked where the vegetables would be placed.

"Thank you, Nara (Y/N). I was about to bring these to Arapacati. Please help me carry the ingredients to their home." It was a simple request that you happily obliged. There were also tomatoes, sweet flowers, and mushrooms outside. Quickly drifting to Arapacati's home, you turned to her brothers. They were discussing about the unique dish they planned to serve to everyone. Araphala noticed you and waved at you to come closer.

"Will Nara (Y/N) taste our new invention once you return?" He inquired. It might not be evident because of their facial expression, but you could hear the hopeful tone laced in the Aranara's voice. You nodded, but you turned to Arasaka and warned him not to put too much 'taste of happiness' (sugar) in the dish if he planned to use it. The aforementioned Aranara deflated, but it was for the best. Arasaka had the tendency to oversweet dishes, even those that were meant to be savory.

After praying to the Dendro Archon for the success of the Aranara's dish, you wandered into the forest to see its condition. The fauna and flora were thriving, and only minimal problems were present such as weakened plants and pestering fungi. News was that the Withering Zone had decreased significantly after a certain Traveler rescued the Dendro Archon and healed the Irminsul. You had the opportunity to meet them, and they were kind, as Araja and Arapacati mentioned. Paimon was gluttonous, but she was the best travel companion the Traveler could ask for.

Only the fungi, hilichurls, and ruin machines littered the forest. There were occasional sightings of Eremites and Fatui, but they did not harm the forest. In turn, you left them to their own devices. It was for the people in the city to handle as it was their business. Your role was to assist in guarding Vanarana. As such, you found yourself eradicating several ruin sentinels from the underground ruin that came near the Vanarana. Arabalika was also beside you, using his Ararakalari to take down the weak points of the machines. He once mentioned that it was an excellent exercise to strengthen his power, but at the cost of memories, so there were times when you had to re-introduce yourself to him.

"You're not getting away this time!" You concentrated the dendro energy in your hand and hit the center point of the ruin hunter. It crackled before falling unceremoniously. Leaping in the air, you slowly descended to check for your Aranara companion. Just a few meters from your position, Arabalika was hitting the other sentinels with his weapon. As if they were mere toys, the enemies disintegrated into dust. The forest was peaceful once more.

"Nara (Y/N), strong as always, but Arabalika noticed that your speed had dwindled. Is Nara (Y/N) sick?" He asked, trotting toward you. Your eyes widened at his sharp observation. The facade you put up crumbled, and you confessed that you had been having nightmares that exhausted your body and mind.

The Aranara hummed in thought before floating up to your stature. He touched your forehead and used his power. He noticed a blockage at the back of your mind and advised that you talk to Araja about it. You raised an eyebrow at that. Arama once mentioned that there were memories he could not access, like it was purposely sealed inside you. Although you wished for the Aranara to further elaborate his statement, he had long departed to Sarva.

"All right, I'll go back to Vanarana and talk with Araja. See you there, Arabalika. Stay safe!"You bid him farewell. He waved his arm before disappearing underground, most likely to hunt more ruin machines in the Ruins of Dahri.

Shaking your head at his antics, you vanished back to Vanarana. The moment your eyes landed on its sky, you could not help but gawk in awe. The mystical shade of purple and vermillion never failed to astound you, even to this day. There were no moon, sun, or stars in Vanarana as if it was suspended in time. It was also filled with unique flora only the Aranara could reproduce. They said that the memories of the forest brought forth the vegetation in the area. If Sumeru had the Padisarah, Vanarana had the Viparyas, a dazzling seedless flower created using Vasmrti and the forest's memory.

Trudging back to Araja's house, you found yourself humming the Song of Great Dream. It was the last gift Arama gave you.

"Ho? You're back early, Nara (Y/N). Sit down. I'll prepare some tea." Araja mused, motioning to the chair on the ground floor. You gladly took it before voicing your concern.

"Araja, I've been dreaming strange things lately. I always find myself with a man I don't know. Deep inside me, I have an inkling that I know him. There are feelings of happiness and regret whenever I dream." Araja floated toward you and placed the tea on your lap. You thanked him before he positioned himself atop the table.

"I can only surmise that those are your memories, Nara (Y/N). Remember when we found you, a part of your memories were sealed. We did not have enough power to unseal them, but we believe you can unlock them by finding the right trigger. Nara (Y/N), these dreams might mean that fate is with you, preparing you for what you hid from yourself." He responded. You sipped your tea in silence, thinking about the Aranara's words.

It had been nearly two centuries since Araja and Arama found you in the Fane of Ashvattha. They said you stood absentmindedly in front of the first Vasara Tree before collapsing like a withered log. Luckily, the tree remained active and cushioned your fall with leaves and flowers. The tree asked the two to nurse you, but you were like a blank slate when you opened your eyes. No memories of anything. Both you and the Aranara feared each other. You because of being with strangers, and them due to a human entering the Vanarana, which served as their safe haven. Building trust between the two parties took time, but you were thankful for their patience. One day, you overheard Arana, who had just returned from her journey, inquire about your state. Araja said it was amnesia, and when Arama checked your memories, it blocked him. The seal harbored no ill will, but it seemed like you were the one who placed it there. For what reason? None of you know.

“Thank you, Araja. To be honest, I am scared of my memories. What if I was a bad person? What if I hurt you and the others?” You muttered, anxiety coursing through your veins. The Aranara chief floated to your trembling figure and patted your head.

“I believe Nara (Y/N) was a kind Nara even before we took you. I saw the warm treatment and patience you gave to every one of us here in Vanarana. Even when Arasaka put too much zaytun peach jam on your food, you did not complain and finished everything. Nara (Y/N) is a gentle Nara.” He comforted. Tears welled up in your eyes before nodding, enjoying the head pats the Aranara chief gave.

The next day, you were greeted by a bowl of delicious-smelling food held by Arasaka. You blinked owlishly before he gave you a spoon to eat it. He said that they noticed the scent of ‘sadness’ emitting from you yesterday and wanted to comfort you with food. A smile erupted from your lips, and then you began munching on the dish they made. There was a vast improvement in the flavor.

Once breakfast was done, you informed the Aranara chief that you would be visiting Tighnari in Gandharva Ville to learn more about the Withering Zones and the status of the other forests in Sumeru. Arasaka waddled over to you and queried why you were not scared of the Forest Watcher. You were aware that they feared Tighnari because he was a descendant of Valushka Shuna (desert dogs). You crouched down and assured him that the fennec fox would never hurt you or them. He was reluctant to believe your words, but he trusted your strength. With a smile, you left the village.

Gandharva Ville was hours away from Vanarana by foot, but the forest had been kind to you and provided you ease in transportation across lands as long as you remained in their sight. Transporting yourself to the ville, you instantly found yourself in front of Tighnari's office.

"Tighnari? Are you home?" You asked, peeking at the leaf curtain of the hut. The Forest Watcher turned his head from his work, eyes widening at the surprise visit.

"(Y/N)? Well, this is a nice surprise. Come inside." He offered. You gladly followed in and sat on a spare chair in his office. He inquired about your whereabouts the past few days, which you indulged in. An upset frown marred his face at the facet of endangering yourself, but you promised him that you had Arabalika backing you up when you go around fighting.

Tighnari sighed. He decided to get to the main agenda of your visit, which was to explain the declining number of Withering Zones and its impact on the ecosystem. He started with the effects of Irminsul being healed and how it cut the source for the zones to pester. Without the withering, the forest would recover slowly from the detrimental impacts. Plants might need assistance, but it should not pose an issue to you or the forest rangers. The leylines would also start to stabilize, so fewer overflow effects on fauna and flora in Sumeru were expected.

Digesting the information he laid out, you adjusted your itinerary for the day. For now, assistance in revitalizing wilting vegetation was the best option while the forest rangers eliminated the remaining zones. You might help occasionally, but you were confident that Tighnari and his rangers would do the job just fine. Happy with your findings, you thanked the fennec fox and left his hut with a promise to visit again soon. Tighnari shook his head before returning to his work, but a shuffling outside interrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh, it's you, Collei. What's wrong?" There was worry evident on his junior's face. Collei huffed out a shaky sigh.

"Who were you talking to just now, Master? There was no one there." She replied. Tighnari froze in his spot.

The common areas you patrolled as self-proclaimed guardian of Vanarana included the Fane of Ashvattha, Yasna Monument, and Chatrakam Cave. Araja admonished them never to enter the Old Vanarana without him or Arabalika as dangerous monsters loitered the deserted region. You heeded his words gravely.

Jumping down the short cliff in Chatkram Cave, you landed on another group of wilting plants. You concentrated the dendro energy in your hand and set it underground. The color of the leaves brightened as they swayed in the wind, overjoyed by the new life given to them. Suddenly, you heard a series of footsteps coming your way. Indigo orbs met your stupefied ones. He looked extremely familiar, like a bygone breeze meeting an old friend.

"Who are you, and what are you doing around this area? Didn't the forest rangers warn the citizens of Sumeru not to wander deep in the forest?" You demanded. The indigo-haired male scoffed at your indignant words before moving past your figure. Offended by his actions, you huffed out that you would not be responsible for any danger that came his way.

"Not to mention, I don't want to be responsible for burying your body. That would be a pain." You murmured, but he heard it loud and clear. Now, it was his turn to be aggrieved.

"Ho? How foolish. You think I'm feeble I can barely lift a rock, is that it?" There was a dangerous glint dancing in his eyes. Not minding the challenge, you replied.

"If the shoe fits." Wanderer was dumbfounded by the sass you showed him. However, he was more bewildered by the lack of recognition from you. A frown marred his face.

Glancing back at the man, you noticed a conflicting expression on his face. You urged the man to move to another area, but it was immediately shot down. He said he had some important business to care for, which he deemed none of your business. He waved goodbye after that and moved ahead.

There was no way for him to enter Vanarana without a special instrument, so you let him be. However, a creeping intuition told you to check on him later, so after aiding the withered plants, you scanned the area for his silhouette. You found a familiar ascetic garb and hat standing just outside the Vanarana. He was deep in thought.

"Who are you really, and what are you here for? As the forest guardian, I can't permit you to trespass this area." You warned again. He gave you a blank look and then sighed. There were no Aranaras in sight, and the Dendro Archon failed to inform him of such problems.

"Look, Lesser Lord Kusanali requested that I inspect this area. Got a problem with that?" He replied. The way your eyes squinted in suspicions was well-known to him, so he shook his head. There was no way for you to believe his words without evidence.

"You won't believe any of my words, so why don't you bring one of those stupid vegetables here? They'll recognize me." He simply said, sitting down on the rock to rest. You were displeased by his attitude but disappeared from his vision nonetheless. He knew you were most likely involved with the Aranaras, considering your protective nature on the said place.

Wanderer let out a shaky sigh the moment you left. After years of losing you, he did not expect to see you in Sumeru, of all places. Why were you here? Never in his life did he wish to quickly return to Nahida and demand if she knew all this time that you would be here. It felt like a cruel mockery of his past, one that he longed to move forward. However, he knew he could never let go of his last betrayal.

"Just how...?"

Moments later, you reappeared outside Vanarana where the young man clad in blue was waiting. Beside you were Araja and Ararycan (he wanted to tag along and see another human). The Aranara chief saw Wanderer and nodded that it was indeed the young man the Dendro Archon brought with her the last time they met. His hat stood out the most, genuinely recognizable even from afar. There was still distrust in your heart, but you opted to give him a chance.

Materializing a wooden lyre designed by the Aranara, you taught him the Song of Great Dreams. You snickered internally at his disgruntled look. He plucked the strings, and the Vanarana in front of you changed to the state you had grown used to. The Aranara around squealed at the sight of Wanderer, while the others peaked curiously from their houses.

"Araja, Ararycan, I will be with Arasaka and Araphala. Call me once you three are done." You waved goodbye to them.

Wanderer watched you go, an uneasy feeling welling up in his chest. Araja cleared his throat to gain his attention before urging them inside his abode. Ararycan sat on one of the stomps and stared at his figure, enamored by the massive hat on his hut. The indigo-haired male was bothered by his stare but decided to relay the Dendro Archon's message to the Aranara chief. They diligently discussed the Irminsul, Tree of Dreams, and the new Ashvattha Tree in the underground of the Old Vanarana.

"Arama will always be with the forest, right? Ararycan can't wait to see Arama again in Sarva. Ararycan will tell him many stories, especially the Golden Nara who helped with the big iron chunks!" The cyan Aranara intercepted. Araja chuckled while Wanderer had an undecipherable glaze in his eyes. Was it pity or empathy? He was not sure.

"I'll report this to the Dendro Archon. We'll personally visit the Old Vanarana. Maybe further in the desert after we resolved the minor issues in the Akademiya." Wanderer voiced. Araja brightened at the news.

"You have my utmost gratitude, Blue Nara. Hmmm? What is that in your hands, Nara (Y/N)?" They all turned to you. In your hands was a tray with three bowls. It smelled delicious.

Placing the tray down, you told them it was Arasaka's newest invention. You taste-tested the dish, so you assured them that it was good. Not too sweet and not too savory, just the perfect balance. Wanderer was reluctant to eat the dish, so you grabbed a spoon and walked to him. He was about to protest, but you shoved it in his mouth. He did not wish to admit it, but you were right.

"Not bad, right? Anyways, sorry if I'm interrupting. I did not want Arasaka's effort to go to waste. I'll be going to the Fane of Ashvattha, Araja. If you ever need me, I'm one teleport away. Sorry if I can't escort you out, uhh... Wanderer, right?" You apologized with a hint of questioning tone at the end of your sentence, uncertain if you got it right. The indigo-haired male winced at the name, not liking the fact that you called him that instead of—Nevermind. It was not yet the time. The three watched you disappear from their sight. Once you were gone, Wanderer also decided to leave the area.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Aranara Chief." He tipped his hat respectfully before going to the Silapna to play the Song of the Great Dream. Like before, he was back in the real world. He glanced around, hoping to catch your figure, but it was impossible to get anything from you. Not when you did not even remember him.

The puppet returned to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, where he reported about the Aranara's situation. Nahida understood the situation and already formulated a plan to assist the children of the forest with the changes brought by the Irminsul. Before she could go, the puppet stopped her in her tracks.

"Buer, why the fuck are they there, and why is it that they don't remember me?" She could hear the frustration in his voice, but an honest answer was all she could give.

"They've been in a state of limbo, you could say. They're not exactly dead, but their spirit had been lost in the transition due to our interference with the Irminsul. I dug up this information. You remember the reason and how they died, right?" She questioned. He nodded.

You two argued about the Doctor's cruel experiments on his body. The distaste you held for the harbinger angered the puppet because it seemed like you were not happy with the path he chose. He thought that you were there to hinder him from reaching godhood. However, you knew better. The Doctor desired to break Wanderer, so you confronted him. It led from one thing to another, and his last memory of you was the moment he saved you from falling down the snowy cliff in Snezhnaya. Your body had long gone cold.

Without knowing the confrontation, Wanderer begged Dottore to save you. He did not know that the Doctor used your body for experiments. He was curious about your constitution and the runes engraved on your wrist. After researching, he found that it was meant to lengthen your life, but your spirit escaped his grasp. Wanderer learned the truth after he tampered with the Divine Tree. It was one of the things he would not forgive Dottore for. Currently, your battered body remained in a special room in Bimarstan, suspended in time and slowly coping.

"Is there a way to get them back?" He asked.

"You have to make them remember. Slowly. Going by what you mentioned earlier, there must be memories sealed at the back of their mind that they could not access alone. At least not with the right stimuli." She responded. Wanderer froze, torn by the decision he had to make. Letting you remember meant recognizing his god-awful attitude. An exhausted sigh escaped his lips.

"Are you scared?" Nahida tilted her head, confused by his hesitation. Embarrassed, he turned his head, but the young god was not far from it. The puppet was terrified. He just found you, and if you were to know his past, you might run away and leave him for good.

"Hmm. Now that's a surprise. I thought you would not mind because they did not seem special to you. However, there must be a change of heart along the way. Interesting. You're shrouded with guilt and now favors them. Don't worry, I think they can handle it. They must be looking for those memories as well." She voiced. Wanderer did not reply and left the sanctuary quietly.

The following day, he marched back to Vanarana. It was a difficult decision on his end, but the feeling of emptiness in your heart must have been excruciating. It was only fair to give you the right triggers to unlock those memories.

“Wanderer? What are you doing back here? Did Lesser Lord Kusanali say anything?” You asked, placing down the timbers you collected for cooking. The Aranara with you squeaked in fear, but you petted its head and assured it that the Nara with them meant no harm. Wanderer was perturbed by the creature’s reaction. He also crouched down and apologized.

“I’m sorry for startling you. And no, I just came to spend time in Vanarana while awaiting the Dendro Archon’s next order.” He returned. Your eyes widened at the tenderness of his voice, almost as if the person you met yesterday was a stranger.

“Are you really Wanderer? Why are you not scoffing or huffing indignantly?” You questioned, trembling at the strange behavior he exuded. He gave you his infamous dead eyes before standing up.

“Don’t get me wrong. I can still insult you whenever I want. I just needed some time away from my duties.” The sincerity in his words made you trust him a little bit. You directed your attention to the Aranara beside you and whispered. It nodded before floating away with the timbers in its hand.

Wanderer raised an eyebrow at its action, but his thoughts were soon occupied by your hand pulling him above Vanarana. It was a sight to behold. He sat down by the cliff and listened to you talk about the place. It seemed like you had grown accustomed to life with the children of the forest. Unconsciously speaking out loud, you confirmed his speculations.

“They’ve become my family. Still, my heart yearns for the past I hid from myself. You might be confused, but the Aranaras rescued me. I had no memories of my life before, and even if I tried to remember, I ended up getting hurt. The migraines I get from pushing my mind were no laughing matter, but I still want to know. Was I a good person? Did I leave the world happily? Did someone cry for my death?” You wistfully said.

Pursing his lips, the puppet released a shaky sigh. Yes, this would be his gift to you. He would gladly take it to his grave if you hate him afterward.

The Dendro Archon’s assistant became a frequent visitor in the Vanarana. A few of the Aranaras learned to interact with him, and they found him tolerable. As for the indigo head, he hated that Ararycan would find opportunities to steal his hat and throw it around like a frisbee. It would make you laugh at the incredulity of the situation, but you made sure to grab it for him and have the Aranara apologize. Not like the cyan Aranara would not do it again.

At some point, he became a staple part of your life. You would go in patrols and come home to see him there. He would say that the Dendro Archon requested him to inspect the area, but you rarely see him go anywhere. It was amusing, to say the least. However, his visits also brought stranger dreams. The man's silhouette started to clear up, but before you could fully see him, the dream would turn into nightmares. There would be a doctor, and you would hear yourself tell him to stop with the experiments.

“You’ve done enough! Can’t you see that you’re killing him?”

“A toy? He’s not a toy for you to play and discard after!”

“You��re a horrible man, Doctor.”

It was always the same, and you would be drenched in sweat by the time you woke up. Araja noticed your disorderly state and advised that you get out of Vanarana. Take in a new surrounding, breathe and forget about your duties for once in a while. Somehow, you ended up in front of the first Ashvattha Tree, where Araja and Arama first found you.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali wants to talk with you, Chief Araja. Maybe she could come here next week?” Wanderer asked, back again in the Aranara’s home to discuss Nahida’s request. The chief gladly accepted the meeting. Before the puppet went, he inquired about your whereabouts.

“Nara (Y/N) left Vanarana to clear their head. It seemed like nightmares began claiming their sleep. I have not seen Nara (Y/N) get a good night's sleep, so this change of pace might help.” He confessed.

Wanderer thanked him and left to find you. Nahida could wait, but he had an inkling that you needed somebody to understand what you were going through right now. Was he the right person for it? Maybe not, but he could care less.

‘Where are they?’ He searched high and low for you, even going into caves to see if you would be in them. However, there was no trace of you. He was about to give up and ask Nahida when he found a strange glow in the Fane of Ashvattha. There, he found your slumbering figure leaning against the tree. It pulsated as you dozed off. He was about to walk towards you when the vines around him reacted as if protecting you.

“Don’t worry, I’m just here to talk to them. I’m a… friend. They’re safe with me.” He was unsure if he was going insane by talking to a tree, but this was Teyvat, where even the most insane thing existed. The vines retracted and revealed your figure. Wanderer carefully trod the path laid out for him.

“Hey, why are you dozing off here in the cold, idiot?” He nudged. You opened your eyes at his voice and yawned. There was no recollection of when you fell asleep, but you could tell this was the best slumber you had in days.

There was a moment of silence between you two until you noticed he was waiting for an answer. Stupefied, you stammered a response saying that sleep evaded you. Not to mention, the nightmares kept you up almost everyday. You followed Araja's suggestion and took in new sceneries. Although, in the end, you still wound up in the Ashvattha Tree.

"Those dreams, have you ever presumed that they could be memories? They said you could attain the past you lost with the right stimuli. Scaramouche, Dottore, Fatui, don't they ring a bell?" Hope and desperation gleamed in his eyes, and you could not fathom the reason for it. His eyes told a thousand words. Before you could utter a thing, an excruciating headache hit your head.

“Hngh! It hurts!” You moaned, clutching your head in pain. It felt like your head was splitting into two as tears gathered at the corner of your eyes. You bit your lips until they bled just to prevent yourself from screaming. The atmosphere around you turned colder, and Wanderer squinted his eyes at what was happening to you. Even if it meant hurting you, he knew you had to remember.

Familiar silhouettes appeared in your mind. There was the doctor named Dottore and a man— No, a puppet named Scaramouche. Both were harbingers of the Fatui, and your fate had been entangled with theirs for some reasons you could not recall.

“What…? I—“ You huffed, your body still trembling. There was no continuation after that, but the remnants of the headache made you dizzy. You wanted to puke, empty your stomach to the bottom, but Wanderer held you against him in comfort. He took your hand and sternly asked for your permission.

“I know that you have many questions right now, but (Y/N), I know about you. If you are willing, I can take you to a place where we can restore your memories." He assured. You peered at him, incredulity coating your orbs. Fear engulfed your body. How could a stranger you had only known for days know more about you? You tried to push him away, but you were too weak.

"W-Who are you, Wanderer? What do you mean? I—" You lurched to the side and emptied the contents of your stomach. He held a pained expression before reaching for you again. Wanderer asked if you could trust him once more. He rambled about how it was for your own good. The confident yet sullen glimmer in his eyes said it all. You slowly nodded, then collapsed on him.

The puppet fussed over your weakened state, but you promised him that it was the stress eating you up. Reluctantly, he carried you to Nahida.

The moment you arrived at the Sanctuary of Surasthana, you were in awe. It was a sacred place you could not help but feel unwelcome. However, the Dendro Archon warmly welcomed you. She gave Wanderer a disappointed gaze, but he brushed it off and asked that she give you your memories back. Nahida glanced at you and asked if you were ready to face what you hid from yourself.

"I may not be, but... I want to face the me of the past and owe up to what I did." Your words reflected those that Wanderer said when he was still as lost as you. He could not help but smile. He was proud of what you had become.

Nahida tilted her head before nodding. She opened up a space, and it swallowed you two. You instinctively closed your eyes in dread of where it would take you. Wanderer remained unfazed, but when the area cleared up, he came face to face with your body. The Dendro Archon asked you to open your eyes and touch the slumbering form before you.

'Is this... my body?' You thought. Wanderer carefully placed you down as you slowly approached your body. It opened its eyes and gazed at you. There was a smile on the body's lips before it embraced you, the soul its missing for centuries. You froze in your place as memories flashed before your eyes. The seal at the back of your mind dispersed, and you watched each day pass by.

The first memory was the kind Kabukimono who Niwa took under his wings. He first met you below the Sakura Tree in one of the villages near the mines. The thunder sakura enhanced the beauty you possessed, and he fell in love for the first time. He did not recognize what emotion it was, but to you, it was adoration. You loved his indigo orbs that seemed to reflect the night sky. However, you were not formally introduced to each other until he saw you again with the sick child.

As if arranged by fate, the child pulled you towards the Kabukimono. His indigo eyes widened at the sight, but he smiled and introduced himself. This time, he hoped to learn about you. Kabukimono would go out of town to work, while you remained at home to care for the child. It was like a little family in a deserted place despite you three not having the same blood. The puppet learned to cherish and love you two, but tragedy struck. The child perished away from death. The puppet did not understand why he broke his promise. He could not discern death. You tried to explain to him its concept.

"Are they always fated to die? Does that mean you will also leave me? You will break your promise?" He was desperate. He did not want to be alone. You could only look to the side, unable to answer him truthfully. Kabukimono wistfully laughed.

"Don't die on me, (Y/N). You have to promise you will do everything not to die. Don't betray me as they did!" He hissed. You reached for his hand, but the tears trickling down his face stopped you. Nodding your head, you assured him that you would live for him. Yet you knew that it was only a matter of time.

Days passed by, and Kabukimono changed his name to Kunikuzushi. He wreaked havoc amongst the Raiden Gokaden. Blood was spilled, yet you could only watch in horror. You still loved the man, but he longed for an impossible revenge and power. Soon, the Fatui reached out to him. He was recruited and renamed Scaramouche "The Balladeer". Snezhnaya was a frigid place, and their plans frightened you. Scaramouche sought to keep you in the dark, but some things slipped here and there.

At one point, the Doctor was intrigued by his constitution and implored to conduct experiments on his person. Scaramouche was repulsed initially, but Dottore assured him it would help with his revenge on the Electro Archon. He would be cut up, injected with strange serums, and connected to machines that destroyed his body, but Scaramouche remained resilient. You could not stand how he strived to reach his dreams and confronted him.

"What do you know?! You're just a lowly mortal, (Y/N). Remember that you will leave me too. I have prepared myself." He coldly stated.

"I promised you that I would remain alive, did I not? I am also researching ways to extend my life, Kuni—" He held your wrist tightly and threw you to the side. It was a silent warning not to mention that name. You feared the Scaramouche in front of you. He could kill you if he wanted but chose not to.

The only option you had was to confront the Doctor. The harbinger only laughed at your attempt. He mocked your efforts to protect Scaramouche, but he proposed an option. It was to use your body in his experiment. He noticed the runes on your wrist and desired to uncover the secrets behind them. You declined his offer. It was one of the arts taught to you by a dying adepti during your research to lengthen your life. There was no way you would willingly give it away. The Doctor clicked his tongue in distaste before turning his head away.

"Then amuse me, (Y/N). At what lengths are you willing to protect your lover? Will he be happy with your interference?" He scorned. You clenched your fists tightly before leaving his laboratory. Dottore chuckled at your stubborn nature.

"One way or another, I will have you." He uttered, satisfied by the turn of events.

Scaramouche continued with his ordeal with the Doctor. As much as he despised the man, he was his key to reaching godhood. On the other hand, you were determined to impede Dottore's experiment. He was initially amused until you discovered his human experimentation on god residues and Delusions. He sighed at the unfortunate turn of events. Because of your stubborn nature, death was the only option for you. He could not waste his 'materials' anymore after all. Not to mention, your body seemed worthy of his attention.

"In the end, you could not protect him. Hilarious. You could have just accepted my terms, and I would have been lenient with the Balladeer. How pitiful." He chaffed. You tightly held onto his wrist, desperate to pull the scalpel out of your heart, but Dottore pushed further. Your vision blurred as your breathing slowed down.

"Y-You'll get your karma soon...bastard." He dismissed your threats and threw you off the snowy cliffs. You watched his figure disappear in the snowstorm. Thoughts of Scaramouche filled your mind, pained apologies uttered in the howling winds. Your memories ended bittersweetly.

As you opened your eyes, your gaze landed on Wanderer (Scaramouche, Kunikuzushi, or Kabukimono, his names overwhelmed you). He gently held your figure against him, and the kind act warmed your insides. Yet, the guilt in your person coated your heart.

"I'm sorry... for leaving you..." You muttered, holding his hand tightly. Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes until they fell one by one. Soon, you were a sobbing mess. He smiled ruefully and kissed your forehead.

"I should be the one who's sorry, stupid. You endured my god-awful attitude and even had to deal with the Doctor. Ha! The nerve of that narcissistic bastard." He replied. You weakly chuckled before resting your body against him in exhaustion.

"You know I'm willing to do everything for you. It was all for you." You mumbled before your consciousness absconded.

The space around you dispersed. Nahida appeared and greeted you with a smile. She noticed your fatigued figure and let you relax for the time being. The Dendro Archon focused her attention on Wanderer and inquired about what occurred inside. He scoffed and turned his back to her.

"They got their memories back, and... we were able to reconcile. There are still many things to discuss, so we will take our leave. You have my gratitude, wise god." He fixed your figure against his hold and left the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Nahida shook her head and remembered that Wanderer forgot to give his report about the Tree of Dreams.

"I'll just pull him back here tomorrow. I'm sure (Y/N) will understand if I take their lover away for a while." She giggled.

The following day was filled with reticent apologies and assurance. Wanderer with his attitude while you with the broken promise. It was out of character for him to be affectionate, but this was his chance to make up for what he made you go through. Once that was fulfilled, he whispered that you were free to leave him and have a happy life, but you immediately opposed it.

"This time, this time, don't let me go, Kuni." You begged. His eyes widened, and his fingers trembled against yours. To him, you were too nice for the cruel world he knew. If possible, he would like to hide you from the ugly things of Teyvat, but you would surely be angry at him.

"You're right. I'm the stupid one. Then this time, we will be together for eternity. I'll make sure this small wish will be ours to fulfill." You smiled at his words.

"By the way, if I recall correctly, weren't you supposed to report to Lord Nahida about the Tree of Dreams? I recall Araja talking about the progress of the plan about it." You uttered. Wanderer froze. He totally forgot about it after the incident yesterday.

'She's right. I believe you have to come to my office now, Wanderer. Or do you want me to drag you back to the sanctuary in front of your lover?' A gentle voice resonated around his home. He scowled before standing up to prepare. You lightly laughed.

Standing up, you picked up his hat and placed it on his head. He was surprised but more taken aback when you kissed his cheeks. The sudden affection made him flustered.

"We have an eternity to compensate for the lost time." You whispered. He gently held your hand and nuzzled it. It was this warmth you had been chasing in your dreams. You finally remember the person you fell in love with, and the promise between you two was forged anew.

'Not to interrupt this ending, (Y/N), but you might want to tell Tighnari that you're a living person. I think you spook the living mushrooms out of him after Little Collei asked who he was talking to from your last visit.' Nahida urged. You blinked owlishly before following Wanderer outside. You did have some explaining to do, and you might as well visit Araja and the others while you were at it.

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

#genshin impact #genshin #romance #genshin x reader #angst #slight angst #genshin wanderer #wanderer #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #wanderer x reader #kabukimono #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin scaramouche

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Text

Spider Spectacles.

Chrollo x F Reader.

Various snippets that take place in the Hell Within Reach universe.

Warnings: Some mild not SFW implications, mentions of blood/violence (not towards Reader). Word count: 3.1k.

Phinks can’t believe these same hands that are capable of breaking necks with ease can’t tie a fucking tie.

If that isn’t bad enough, he’s stuck in this ridiculously restrictive suit, the fabric scratchy against his skin. Why anyone would actively choose to wear something like this is beyond him. From his perspective, it wreaks of being pretentious. To make matters worse, he’s fighting against the clock here. You’re to be his “date” for infiltrating tonight’s job. He’s holding things up with how long this is taking.

Just when he’s fantasizing over how he’ll choke some socialite goon with this stupid piece of fabric, you enter his line of sight. Though you’re wearing high heels, your footsteps made no sound, and he’d been too preoccupied with this torture device to sense your presence properly.

You stand before him, dressed elegantly, adorned in jewelry and more prominent makeup. Unlike himself, blending in with those plutocrats won’t pose an issue for you. He wonders if somewhere past your perfectly poised countenance, behind the drawn curtains that obscure your eyes’ true feelings, is there any prejudice toward him? Or the rest of the Troupe as a whole? Shal said you come from a family of bigwigs; why exactly you joined the Spider is beyond him.

He supposes he should trust in Chrollo’s judgment. That’s easier said than done, though.

Tonight would serve as an imperative litmus test. Both you and Phinks were to be the vanguard. Only Paku had seen you in action before, he can’t help but be curious about how it’ll go. Will you squirm at the sight of limbs being torn off? Swoon over disembowelment? Complain should any blood and gore splatter across your pretty dress?

He’ll know soon enough. For now, he assumes it’s only a matter of time before you turn on your heel, uninterested in a commoner’s woes.

Hah. There it is. You’re parting your painted lips, he can’t wait to stamp out whatever propriety-filled nonsense you spew—

“Could I be of any assistance?”

He sets his mouth in a thin, firm line. As much as he’d love to make a point by telling you no, he is technically the reason why you’re tight on time. Had there been the slightest hint of arrogance in your demeanor, he would’ve told you to fuck off, but as things currently stand, that’d be uncalled for.

“... Knock yourself out.”

With this, you set out to work, your hands finding the loose fabric hanging around his neck. It occurs to him then that he’s never seen you without gloves on. You’re always wearing that black leather pair, or in this case, opera gloves. He makes a mental note to talk to Shal for his theories later.

Phinks is treated to a whiff of your perfume when you get closer to him. It’s subtle yet pleasant, though he can’t quite put his finger on what specifically makes it up. Vanilla for sure. He’s smelled worse. Those harpies love to soak themselves in the most egregious scents in existence. He finds himself favoring Meteor City’s stench over the aroma found in high society functions.

Your ensemble isn’t needlessly flashy. Diamond stud earrings with a matching necklace and an off-the-shoulder navy blue evening dress. You must’ve used that woman paint or whatever it’s called to cover up your Spider tattoo. You haven’t plastered makeup on thick enough to make it seem like you moonlight as a clown either.

Before he knows it, you’re done. You straight then tie, then his lapels, smoothing over the many creases born from his frustration. Phinks feels his face heat up, despite the cold surroundings from the poorly insulated abandoned building. He coughs into his hands to cover up this damning evidence.

“Thank you for your patience,” the way you speak is so calm, so assured without spilling into arrogance. He thinks he’s catching a hint of an accent too. “I’ll be waiting outside. I look forward to working with you, Phinks.”

“Uh… yeah, same here.”

You pause, having apparently not expected him to return the sentiment verbally. After a moment’s deliberation, you nod, your face betraying nothing. He finds himself staring at the back of your figure until you’re out of sight. Huffing, he shoves his hands into his pockets, cursing himself for his momentary enchantment. He wasn’t able to be as passive-aggressive as he had hoped to better gauge your character.

This proves nothing, he thinks. I still can’t consider her one of us.

After a few unnecessarily long seconds, he manages to get back into his usual rhythm. He walks down the same path you did, kicking a rock while he does so, the sound echoing throughout the vast empty space. Phinks thinks back to the utmost care you displayed in helping him with such a menial task. It’s such a small, silly thing, but he can’t get the sight out of his head. What a pain this is turning out to be.

Well, Paku did ask him to get along with you… maybe it won’t be as egregious a notion as he originally thought. Maybe. He’ll have to give it some serious thought. So if he’s caught up in how pretty you smell, it’s for a very good reason, he tells himself.

ii.

“You have a very steady heartbeat.”

You’re tracing abstract art into his skin. Shapes, letters, the most memorable sentences from the book you just read; anything your satisfied yet weary mind could concoct.

Following the end of your passionate rendezvous, you’ve found yourself resting your head against Chrollo’s chest. In doing so, you’ve become intimately aware of several elements of his anatomy. His heartbeat is the most prominent addition.

His coarse fingers glide over the flesh of your forearm in an absentminded fashion. “Do you find it off-putting?”

The genuine candor backing his inquiry makes you scrunch your eyebrows together. “I can’t imagine why I would.”

You are both anomalies. Beings that exist in their own sphere, separate from the rest. If not for his conviction to seek you out, you would’ve remained a specter, intangible to all but a few. The peculiar life you have lived up until this point gives you little leverage to judge from.

“… It’s just a thought,” you hear the low rumble in his chest when he speaks. He takes your wrist into his hands, his thumb pressing against your pulse. Your breath catches in your throat. “I’ve come to realize that you’re better at being human than I am.”

“Better at being human?” You repeat the words back slowly, as if learning a new language. It’s foreign enough to essentially count. You might think it a joke if it had been coming from anyone else.

His free hand nestles itself in between your thighs. Despite yourself, the many years of training to have total control over your every bodily function — voluntarily and involuntary — your heart skips a beat. With enough focus, you rein the traitorous back under control, feeling defeated somehow.

“Come now, don’t pout.”

“I’m doing no such thing,” is your petulant response. You then take a deep breath to steady your voice. “This is a physiological response I haven’t adequately prepared myself for. With enough intentionality, I’ll get better at it.”

Silence ensues. You shift in your spot, discontentment suddenly flooding you. It’s a rare dilemma indeed for Chrollo to go quiet for so long. While the air itself isn’t thick or dripping with tension, an unknown energy buzzes throughout.

“I hadn’t intended to critique your abilities, dear.”

There’s something different about his voice — almost an underlying unsteadiness to it. You part your lips, a question blooming then wilting on your tongue at the small chuckle that slips from him. He tries to school himself, and while he achieves mild success, he ultimately succumbs to whatever has amused him.

His heartbeat quickens ever so slightly.

Anyone else may have missed it, but not you. Not when your senses are so attuned to your surroundings as they are.

“You might be getting better at ‘being human’, boss,” your lips curve upward. “Either that, or we’re both losing our touch.”

He hums and gives your thigh a squeeze. “Does the idea bother you?”

“No,” you respond in truth. Far faster than you thought you would too. “And what about you?”

“I believe it should, but…”

He trails off to navigate the tangled web that is his thoughts. Eventually, he arrives at a conclusion, one that transforms the buzz in the atmosphere to a soothing thrum.

“If you’re the cause, I can’t say I mind.”

iii.

“It’s delusion… pure delusion.”

This guy has spirit; Chrollo will give him that.

He sits hunched over in a chair, matted hair obscuring his bloodshot eyes. He sputters out a cough, blood coming up with it, and the abrupt pressure on his chest causes his swollen face to contort in pain. His spit is red when it hits the floor, a few loose hanging teeth clattering alongside it.

Still, the night is young. Chrollo would be sure to keep a close enough eye on his vitals so as to prevent a premature death. That just wouldn’t do. Not when there’s plenty more in store.

“It’s always the same… with lowborn scum like you,” the man rasps out. “Chasing after… what you can’t have. What’ll never belong to you.”

The man rolls his head back, chuckling despite the ache that accompanies doing so. “Lady [First] is in a league above your own. Whatever you think you have working out well for you now… it’s not meant to last.”

Chrollo dislikes hearing your name come from this man’s lips. He’s in a chatty mood now, likely wanting to hurt Chrollo in any way he possibly can. Given the insurmountable gap in physical strength, this must be what he’s left with, bitter words and desperate insults. It’s amusing in its own way. That this completely inconsequential individual thinks himself capable of driving a wedge between you and Chrollo.

Amusing, but mildly grating all the same.

“You know it’s true,” he tries again at the silence on Chrollo’s part. “That’s why you aren’t saying anything.”

More like I don’t consider you worth the effort, Chrollo muses. Or the air.

Another cough — followed up by more blood. The internal bleeding must be getting worse. Did Chrollo misjudge the strength behind his blows? No, that isn’t possible. He flexes his fingers, blankly staring down at his fists. It’s been a long time since he’s tortured someone in a way that got his hands dirty. This was a unique case, however, he wanted to feel the snap of bones and rip of cartilage.

It brought him satisfaction that he didn’t know he needed.

“When she learns the truth about who you are, it’ll all be over. Just you wait. Meteor City trash.”

This conclusion must’ve seemed definitive enough to the man, for he cuts his monologue short and gives the slightest crooked smile. As if he said anything worthwhile. As if he won whatever one-sided battle he thinks he’s fighting.

Chrollo wonders if he should take out his tongue so the man might witness how worthless the muscle is.

Maybe the man’s right that you’re in a league above his own. You were born into a world that he painstakingly crawled his way into, over mountains upon mountains of decaying corpses. Pure nobility, a hallowed ancestral line that can be found in historic textbooks. There are paintings of your ancestors in the most esteemed locations whereas Chrollo knows nothing of his heritage.

At first, he had set out to make you his greatest conquest, a thief’s magnum opus.

And now he would gladly lay down his life for you, or take as many lives as you wanted, should that be your desire.

He far prefers how fate discouraged his original designs.

Chrollo looks down on this poor, misguided man, who thought himself the vanguard of your honor without knowing the slightest thing about you. Your brilliant mind, latent depravity, and vicious loyalty, hidden behind a prim veneer. He can’t blame the man for falling for it. He almost did himself.

Finally, Chrollo gives him a single verbal response. He sees no reason to offer more than that. Not when everything he wants to say can be encapsulated so easily. Short and sweet, the way it should be.

“And if I told you she’s already aware?”

The man’s ragged breath gets caught in his throat. “That isn’t… surely that isn’t possible.”

Chrollo will let him ruminate on it.

After all, despair is best brewed within, as no one can find a worse enemy than their own thoughts.

iv.

Pakunoda has a tall glass of white wine, the glass’ rim stained with her burgundy lipstick.

Machi is sipping on a beer the restaurant had on tap.

Then there’s you, holding your water with lemon, occasionally stirring it with your straw.

In the background, a pianist tickles the ivories, adding to the general pleasant ambiance. There’s chatter from patrons, the clinking of silverware, and the waitstaff coming to and fro. Your soul feels at ease. Good company and good food are a balm for all woes.

“Your turn,” Pakunoda inclines her head toward you. Her diamond earrings catch the light and twinkle. “What’s the strangest Nen ability you’ve encountered?”

You’ve never considered yourself the best storyteller, but your audience of two is familiar, lessening the burdens of social pressure. Pakunoda regaled you both with a witty anecdote of her experience, whereas Machi’s dry and succinct account had its own charm. You comb your memory for a standout encounter to capture their interest with.

After a moment’s consideration, you land on just the thing.

“It was a couple of years ago,” you begin. “I was assigned a job to look into cargo that was stolen in transit, due to it posing a biohazard risk. When I finally narrowed down the search, it was in this tepid marshland. I sensed multiple lifeforms keeping an eye on me, but the aura didn’t belong to anything human.”

Pakunoda raises an eyebrow and Machi hums.

You take a sip of refreshing water before continuing, “Eventually, I found the hazardous material. There were no signs of the perpetrator, however. But when I got within ten feet of the barrels, it triggered some sort of automatic response. The lifeforms that were observing me finally came out and attacked.”

You exhale softly through your nose when you recall what happens next.

“The lifeforms were frogs.”

“Frogs?” Pakunoda questions, her lips morphing into a smile. “Actual frogs, or frogs made from Nen?”

“They were actual frogs, under a Manipulator’s control,” you reveal. Machi snorts. “As for the Nen user… I never found them. I did find human remains inside the frogs, though. My personal theory is that the prolonged exposure killed the user, activating post-mortem Nen. The bodies of the guards and the truck driver weren’t at the initial scene of the attack. I assume the frogs served a similar cleanup utility to Shizuku’s ability, but with a condition to consume deceased organisms.”

“So they ate their dead user?” Machi asks. You nod. “That’s fucked up.”

“... It did change my perception of frogs.”

When they both laugh, you can’t help but join them.

The remainder of the night is spent in high spirits, swapping stories and deepening your bonds.

“See anything interesting?” Chrollo queries.

“Hm?”

“It’s the third time you’ve looked over my shoulder in the past minute,” he explains. He chuckles softly at your nonplussed expression. “I hope it isn’t the male attendant who has caught your eye. I might get jealous.”

“Of course not,” you huff. He can be so troublesome at times, poking and prodding with that handsome smile of his. Your irritation never lasts long — he knows how to rile you up and pacify you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the banter, though.

“Is it the dress, then?” he asks. You give yourself away by fidgeting slightly. “Ah. So it is.”

Chrollo’s otherworldly perception shouldn’t surprise you by now, yet in moments like this, you wonder how he has such insight into the human mind. He hadn’t looked behind himself once to identify what was in your line of sight. Did he catch how your gaze lingered on the boutique earlier and memorize its position? What lengths he goes to.

When you purse your lips, he presses on. “I can get it for you if you want.”

“It isn’t…” you trail off, finding it difficult to form the proper words, “It isn’t a style that would suit me.”

It's a light pink a-line dress at teacup length with floral lace trimmings. Very soft, very feminine.

Very not you.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve worn dresses before.”

“Well, yes. I have to for certain functions. Besides, none of them are like… like that.”

You stare down at your gloved hands, which are folded on your lap. It’s silly, ridiculous, even, this hollowness in your chest cavity you feel when you see certain things. There’s this yearning that leads you astray like the Pied Piper’s song. Your teacher advised you against indulging in needless excess. Everything from the food you eat to your clothes; it should be practical and purposeful. These are the tenets you were instilled with from as early on as you can remember.

“Like what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You know very well what I mean.”

Chrollo rests his cheek on his fist. “Perhaps. I know what covetous eyes look like even better.”

“It isn’t worth dwelling on,” you straighten out a wrinkle in your clothes. “It’s pretty, that’s all there is to it.”

“It’d look far prettier on you.”

Heat floods your cheeks and your lips part. You go to say something, but find yourself unable, settling for clearing your throat instead. The smile on his face is different from those he uses with the intent to charm. It’s gentle, almost tender. There’s an underpinning of fondness that he reveals to no one aside from you.

You allow yourself one last glance at the dress before returning to your prior conversation, discussing the last book you’d both read.

The following morning, you open your closet door while wiping the sleep from your eyes. You assess the display of garments in familiar shades of black, gray, and occasionally navy blue. At the end of the hanging rack, however, you spot something that sticks out like a sore thumb. Something that was most definitely not there when you went to bed last night.

You run your fingers over the light pink fabric, biting back a giddy smile while you do so.

Chrollo is given a kiss on the cheek when handed his morning coffee.

#chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #phantom troupe x reader #hell within reach #my stuff

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tenebrius-excellium · 10 months

Text

Guys so I visited a medieval smithy the other day (ca. 1300s) and it reminded me a lot of Gobber's workshop... it was easy to imagine that I had just literally stepped into Berk's smithy with my own two feet... and to be honest, seeing this stuff in real life made the whole deal of Hiccup apprenticing in one of these infinitely funnier and Stoick's decision to put him there weirdly...understandable???

Let me elaborate: So you're in approx. 900 AD, you live on a tiny island under rough conditions, EVERYONE, and I mean EVERYONE WITHOUT A SINGLE EXCEPTION is a craftsman of some kind who has to work manually, and you've got a noodle of a son.

Also you're the Chief, no less than that. Let me tell you that this makes the whole thing just so much worse.

Looking at all those solid iron tools - mighty bellows operated by a beam larger than me, forging tongs that would have been half of Hiccup's size and exactly as heavy as this shot implies,

...swords with hilts longer than a cucumber and crude, brutal design, plus all the firewood that constantly needed to be chopped and carried around... even if Hiccup had turned out to be completely untalented at smithwork, that would have built him some muscles.

You don't understand. Hiccup having no muscles was a death sentence. The environment that he was surrounded by, which I was reminded of in that irl smithy, could - at that time! - only be overcome by hard manual labor, aided by the most basic mechanics. Even if he had become a breadmaker, that still would've built him some muscles. All the kneading, the weightlifting of flour and wood and water, the carrying, would have done the same job. Forget Snotlout bragging about working out in his parents' basement. EVERYONE on Berk was burly not because 'they were vikings' training for war or whatever for funsies every day, but because it literally was a requirement of everyday life to be able to carry something heavy from A to B, and be it only a single sack of grain.

So it's really funny to me how Stoick intentionally put this skinny rat of a son of his into the most merciless and dangerous job that probably existed on the island, just to put him to some use. Poor Hiccup. He's like a wet kitten under the command of a bloodhound. But at the same time, it makes so much sense?? Stoick didn't just put him into a job to gain some weight, he put him into a job that would teach him all about tools and weapons, how to defend himself and about the irreversible price of violence. I imagine a blacksmith would have to know how to use a sword to know what makes a good one, so Hiccup would've naturally learned swordfighting on the side. It was an important skill not just against dragons. We see the gang fight all kinds of human enemies in later years as well.

So what Stoick was basically doing was to prepare him for life. The need for abs back then is comparable to today's education about taxes and insurances. Hiccup needed some brawns to survive Berkian conditions, and not just for fighting dragons. Even though Hiccup had the brilliance to invent mechanical devices that could make life on the island easier, he didn't have electricity and he couldn't just press a button anytime he wanted the laundry done or needed some newly tanned leather. He had to work with his own two hands anyway. No dragon, once tamed, could assist the villagers in ways that an ox or buffalo hadn't done before. Despite his marvelous innovations, there's no changing that Hiccup would remain a craftsman and a warrior throughout his life.

So now there's the fact that Hiccup was a noodle. Having established that with Berk's living conditions in mind, you would basically have to avoid working any daily task ON PURPOSE to NOT develop muscles from early childhood, there are exactly two interpretations as to how Hiccup remained this scrawny for so long: a) he was disabled in some way that prevented him from doing chores, or b) he was spoiled and lazy beyond common sense.

Stoick spoiling someone is unthinkable, and Hiccup doesn't appear disabled. He could be struggling with anything from a muscle-degenerative disease to a fast metabolism to mental issues. But it's not implied in the movies. So how did Hiccup avoid manual labor And what kind of message did that send to the rest of the villagers???

Look, if they thought that he was lazy, or perhaps not quite right in the head, they were probably absolutely right. It would have been maniacal for the Chief to spoil his son to the point where he couldn't fend for himself and expected Berk to serve him and supply him with food. Stoick wanted his son to be Chief, so he would have to school him in some trade that enabled him for economics and warfare. As neither was the case though, it didn't put Stoick in a great light to have a son as Hiccup. How could this have happened - a noodle on Berk? It would have made both father and son the laughingstock.

The only reason that I can think of is neglect. Stoick may have been so grief-stricken about Valka's death that he went easy on Hiccup for a while, and then, when he got possessed by running dragon nest campaigns, he may have simply forgotten that he still had a child at home. And then, once Hiccup became old enough to get into trouble, Stoick may have remembered him because he got complaints from his villagers, and so he hurriedly stuck him with Gobber. Lol.

So that's how a skinny noodle rat with no survival skills whatsoever ended up in the weapon forge of Berk. Gobber has a point being sarcastic about it: "Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Hiccup can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor-sharp blades, lots of time to himself - what could possibly go wrong?"

And wrong it goes. I love it. WHAT WERE THEY EXPECTING?? XD

#httyd #hiccup #stoick #stoick the vast #gobber #gobber the belch #analysis #httyd analysis #wherethekiteflies #I HIGHLY recommend visiting any places of craftsmanship they're so inspiring #and they remind you of what's really important in life. gosh #I wouldn't say that manual labor should be this hard but it sure looks rewarding #we need more of it in our western societies again #!!!!

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Text

Topsy Turvy Days in Ignihyde

I think alt!Ignihyde was the most challenging one to write for so far! It took a while to brainstorm ideas, and even longer to write it down in a way that satisfied me.

Errr, the final prompt (Diasomnia) may be late just like Maleficent was 😅 since I’ll be strained between writing 4 boys (instead of the usual 3), Sebek’s Broomquet one-shot, and watching the TWST Year III Anniversary stream!

The Lord of the Underworld, and his Spirit of Diligence.

Malleus Draconia…

… isn’t used to situations where he isn’t assured in his own abilities, where he’s left vulnerable. Were the elder Shroud around, Malleus would obliterate him in a quest for the seat of dorm leader—but since Idia’s off on his own dorm exchange, it leaves Malleus in Ignihyde surrounded by gadgets and machines he has no clue how to operate no matter how much magic he blasts them with. It’s truly a conundrum—and a steep learning curve waiting to happen.

Everything feels so lifeless around him, the lights of the many monitors lining the hallways so artificial, so fake. The floors, the furniture—they’re steely and cold to the touch. A discomfort stirs in the pit of Malleus’s stomach. He’s not afraid of this technology, but unsure of how to comprehend it. It’s so different from nature and the freeing form of magic, his opposite. And change? That’s not something he can easily adapt to. However, Malleus is willing to try and understand of all these devices—for the new perspective may help him become a wiser ruler for his country and his people.

His temperament is particularly dangerous in Ignihyde. When Malleus’s rage flares, his thunderstorms are so powerful that they can knock out the dorm’s entire power supply, leaving dozens and dozens of students without electricity. It sounds like only a mild inconvenience, but for people who sleep, breathe, and eat tech, it’s their worst nightmare. It’s why all the Ignihyde kids walk on eggshells around Malleus (even more so than the others at NRC).

The Ignihyde students scramble away when Malleus heads toward them to ask for help operating a device (which is very frequently). Because they’re always on edge, they sense his presence quickly (“Wh-Why do I hear boss music?!”) and then try to flee the scene. Sadly for them, all it takes is one quick freeze or paralysis spell to stop them in their tracks. Cape swishing ominously behind him, Malleus steps into view with a smirk. “Good day. I’d like to submit an inquiry to this ‘Tech Support’ Desk of yours. You will assist me, correct?”

… Once he’s scared off most of the Ignihyde students, Malleus resorts to asking Epel for assistance (if only because Epel is friends with Deuce, who had helped him before with Gaogao). While Epel fidgets with whatever Malleus needs fixed or tended to, the fae observes him closely and comments that the first year is good at working with his hands. “Eh, you think so? I’ve just got a lot of know-how from helping out on the family farm.” (“Hoh, how commendable of you. I will come to you for future inquiries then.”) “Y-Yer not supposed ta jus’ invite YERSELF over!!”

Malleus is surprised by the most basic of things, from online shopping to video calls and changing his settings or profile picture. (Jamil awkwardly stands off to the side and watches him marvel at modern technology, wondering how the heck he didn’t learn this stuff sooner.) When Malleus tells others the new discoveries he has made, they often react with an exaggerated “O-Oh, really? I didn’t know that…” (What bootlickers, Jamil scoffs to himself—but when Malleus looks his way, he’s quick to bow his head in deference (a force of habit).)

He had the impression that Ignihyde would be populated by virtual pets even though Lilia told him the fad ended years ago (almost like a nature reserve?), so he could set Gaogao Dragon-kun free to roam with his fellow creatures and make friends. Imagine his disappointment to learn it’s not actually the case… Malleus holes up in his room to mope and to tend to his pet for a whole day. “… It is fine. I will always be here to keep you company,” he reassures his beloved pet. “I will never leave your side.”

Malleus tends to get hyperfixated on his interests and hobbies—so it’s absolute hell when he learns about what anime and manga are. He becomes particularly enamored with the slice of life and historical fiction genres, and he’ll talk about them at GREAT lengths with anyone who’s willing to listen. (And don’t get him started on when he happens to catch a gargoyle in the background of a shot; Malleus will launch into a full-on thesis analyzing the accuracy and artistic merit of the gargoyle.)

“I am surprised to learn that, in spite of their technical expertise, the students of Ignihyde also appear to indulge in fiction. I’ve had the opportunity to engage with many of these materials myself. The characters in these works are able to stay as they are, now and forever. Even lightning is contained upon a page or screen--but when lightning strikes in reality, it and its shadow are transiet things. In fiction, time is of no consequence. Everything continues to exist in blissful ignorance, as if suspended in a never-ending dream. Fufufu… How wonderful. I, too, would love nothing more than to live in a never-ending dream.”

Jamil Viper…

… is terribly worried about how Kalim will fare without him (not because he likes Kalim or anything, but because if he is harmed or does something stupid, the blame falls on Jamil). It feels like being away from Kalim stresses him out more than actually spending time at his side. No matter what, Jamil’s “taking a fat L”, as the Ignihyde students would say.

Even when he’s far removed from Kalim, Jamil’s role hasn’t actually changed that much! He calls to check in on his dorm leader at least 3 times a day (demanding that Kalim be on video call so Jamil can be vigilant for potential assassins in the background). Not only that, but Jamil also has to babysit Epel (whose recklessness gets him into trouble on more than one occasion) and Malleus (to quell his bad moods). Why can I never catch a break?!

If Jamil thought Kalim’s (several) home(s) is elaborate, he hasn’t seen anything yet! There’s a clockwork-like efficiency in Ignihyde, lights and sinks automated by touch or heat sensors, voice controlled everything… (He even found a salt shaker that connected to an app on his phone and played music when he seasoned his dinner.) “… I was impressed by the innovation at first, but is there really a need for everything to be wired to wifi? The spices don’t need to sing to me each time I shake them out.”

His interest in dancing leads him down a rabbit hole and into… idol culture. The Ignihyde students are all hype about it, introducing Jamil to a bunch of materials (an “idol fan started pack”, if you will). He told them it was utterly ridiculous at first, but pretty soon he’s listening to the songs, watching the performances (to use as a reference to practice his own dancing), and even incorporating light sticks into his routines (what they call “glowing”)! Jamil insists he’s NOT into idols, but that he’s inspired by the passion and dedication.

He’s appalled by the Ignihyde students’ standards for living. Whenever Jamil catches a glimpse of their rooms, he sees shelves full of merch and floors littered with robotic parts and snacks. It seems they take after the example set by their dorm leader… Thank goodness it’s not his job to clean up after them; it would probably drive Jamil crazy.

He recognizes some of the video games the dorm has for rent. When was the last time he’s had time to plat these? Excluding the time he was held against his will, his last video gaming session was all the way back in middle school. Driven by nostalgia and longing for a return to those bygone days o freedom, Jamil pops a cartridge in and indulges in a brief fantasy, if only for a day.

Jamil tried watching anime (I mean, what else is he going to do around here for fun?) and he instantly cringed at the characters and their over-the-top backstories. He finds himself cringing especially hard at the villains with their Obviously Evil schemes and Obviously Evil laughter/gloating. “People watch this for entertainment? It’s so corny, who in their right mind acts like that?” (Jamil then holds his head in his hands and groans, realizing that he acted exactly like that leading up to and during his OB. He’ll never live down that dokkan.)

Jamil doesn’t like to think of himself as a stiff person—he’s got plenty of pent-up emotions to express—but he admits that he finds a sense of comfort in engineering. It’s not his strongest suit, but it offers a temporary sense of control and agency… things he doesn’t have in his own life. Piece by piece, bit by bit, Jamil feels as though he’s not only assembling a piece of technology, but also constructing a stronger sense of self.

“It’s strange. It almost feels like my time at NRC before Kalim transferred here. Back then, I could do as I liked and explore the subjects that interested me. That freedom was so fleeting. If I were to enroll in a magic engineering course… Kalim would want to take it with me, and then I’d have to maintain a grade below his. It’s like being a machine with hard limits—but I’m not a machine, and this isn’t all that I can do. I can go the distance.”

Epel Felmier…

… really, really, REALLY wanted to try out being in Savanaclaw, but he’ll settle for his second choice since Savanaclaw’s full :/ He’s a fish out of water all over again! This country boy’s used to the wide open farmlands of Harveston, not the geometric, stiff nature of Ignihyde—but that doesn’t mean he can’t adapt!

He immediately tries to establish dominance by letting his new dorm mates know that he’s up to throw down anytime! To his surprise, the Ignihyde students thought he meant “throw down” as in, “let’s play a tabletop card game”! They eagerly bring out their play mats, complicated dice, and decks—and Epel is the one that gets dunked on in the matches.

Epel feels like he has to help Malleus when he’s stumbling through operating something. He’s used to helping out his folks back home (the wifi is spotty in Harveston, and it’s mostly older people who aren’t up to speed with tech) that he feels strongly compelled to do the same for Malleus. It occurs to him that the Malleus Draconia acts like a retiree when it comes to tech—but Epel does his best to refrain from commenting on it out loud.

The Ignihyde kids act like Epel is a demon just because he willingly leaves his room to exercise (he can’t slack off his training for Magift Club!!) and to see the sun. They all stare at him in the courtyard from behind their bedroom doors, shivering at the thought of being out there themselves. “Aw, quit yer bellyachin’ and go on ‘n give it a shot fer yerself why don’t ‘cha?!” Epel hollers at them.

Epel has a habit of snacking on his homemade apple chips while he’s doing other things. Problem is, all those crumbs end up collecting in hard-to-reach places like between the keys on his keyboard… He tried blowing the particles out using a light wind spell, but when that didn’t work, Malleus volunteered to help. (… Yeah, he ended up uprooting half of the dorm but it’s okay, Malleus magically repaired it afterwards.)

He spends hours in the magic engineering labs working on a custom build for a magical wheel; Epel picks out the specs and installs new parts himself, even hand paints his ride in a new color—a deep and shiny crimson, oozing venomous green goo. It fits him perfectly: the “Poison Apple” of the Felmiers! When the magical wheel is ready for a test drive, Epel can think of no better place to try it out than on the corridors of Ignihyde itself (much to Jamil’s horror; “You’ll leave tire tracks on the floors…! And what if you damage one of their supercomputers?!”).

Epel has a bad competitive streak when it comes to tests of strength… even in video games!! When the Ignihyde kids come together to organize raids and gaming competitions, Epel signs up right alongside them… only to be wiped out early on or have his butt whooped in the preliminaries!! Frustrated, he commits himself to working hard to come out on top and prove his worthiness!! (“It isn’t worth much in the long run,” Jamil—the voice of reason—warns him, “you’ll be returning to Pomefiore soon, and I doubt Vil-senpai would want you staying up late to… ‘train’.”)

An Ignihyde student tells Epel that he reminds them of an anime character. “Oh, cool! Which character are you talking about?” Epel asks, curious. “My waifu!!” Epel’s insides immediately turn frosty. The more this mob student rambles on and on about their favorite character and how cute she (and by extension, Epel) is, the more rage builds inside of him until it’s unleashed in one big torrent. “Ah’m NOT a damsel, and Ah AIN’T in distress!!” Epel cries as he lays down the hurt. When all’s said and done, he dusts off his hands and, remembering his manners, snidely adds, “Have a nice day!” before abandoning the scene of the incident.

“I don’t know if I totally get it, but I kind of understand Idia-senpai’s interests a little more now… I think. There was that one anime he was super into, the sledding one that took inspiration from my hometown. He was up in arms, talking nonstop about it. Hehe, everyone in Ignihyde’s really intense about what they love. I can get behind those feelings! No matter what dorm I’m in, I’m gonna let my passion drive me!!”

#Malleus Draconia #Jamil Viper #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst anni #twisted wonderland anni #twst anniversary #twisted wonderland anniversary #Epel Felmier #topsy turvy days #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #Vil Schoenheit #Kalim Al-Asim #Scarabia #Deuce Spade #Idia Shroud

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