#it's also a little strange like the company seems to be doing well it has outlets in multiple cities
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oblako · 1 year ago
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should i apply for this job even tho the office is in the outskirts of the complete opposite side of the city...
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yan-randomfandom · 3 months ago
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Yandere!Stanford Pines x Doctor!GN!Reader
warnings: obsessive thoughts, implied self harm
If I made one for his brother, then I should also make one for this silly guy. Bro is needy just like his twin
Ford is an intellectual who can invent new machines, find new discoveries, and defend himself from danger.
But you know what he can't do?
Rest. He never seemed to take a break from his obsessions.
Which is why, in the middle of the supermarket, as he was waiting in line to pay for his products, Ford dropped dead. Not literally dead (but it might as well be called that), he suddenly fainted after years of exhaustion caught up to him.
Ford slowly woke up to the gentlest touch he had ever felt in years.
"You're awake," you murmured, settling your palm on his forehead. He's still warm.
He tried to sit up, but you quickly pushed him down again. "Hey, you can't do that! Your body is completely debilitated!"
"Debilitated?" he mumbled, continuing to wince when he heard you tell a nurse to call the Pines family. He briefly glanced around, realizing he's in a hospital.
You turned back to him, your stern eyes fixed. "You're lucky I, a doctor, was back there. I did a check up on you, and good god, your body is filled with wounds, some open, and there's a concerning underwhelming amount of essential chemicals!"
Ford paused before huffing, his eyebrows furrowed. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can handle myself—"
"And the way your wounds are treated is nothing short of clumsy! It's like a middle schooler did it!"
Welp, you made him speechless. Did he seriously get compared to a middle schooler?
And yet, whatever you just said or did that day, Ford couldn't get you off his mind. He blankly stared at his scars when he got home on the same day.
It got worse when his twin brother, Stanley, decided to personally hire you to take care of him after another episode of fainting. Initially, Ford was very annoyed, but as time went on, he learned to appreciate you.
Maybe more than appreciate, really. He found himself wanting more of your care.
Your company was surprisingly pleasing. You and Ford talked more about the human body, which is admittedly a little neglected since he was too focused on science and magic on the outside. He never really had anatomy in mind.
When you perform your treatment on him, Ford can't help but feel... needy. A strange feeling of want.
You took a curious look at his extra finger, rubbing your thumb over it. He melted under your touch. "Interesting."
Again, he's never felt careful and gentle hands on his skin for over 30 years. (Dipper has sweaty hands. Mabel is quite jittery. Stan has the roughest skin anyone can have.)
It's a nice change of pace. The way you handle him.
Heck, he usually doesn't like it when someone 'demeans' him (this is about you comparing him to a middle schooler), but you're different. You can't keep your mouth shut, can't you?
Well, he certainly relates to that.
Besides, you make it up to him with praises during the painful parts of treatment. Such subtle words, yet he folds so easily.
Dipper noticed he's becoming more... sloppy during their missions. His grunkle has more injuries than usual.
Then again, Ford is really the only one forcing himself to work. No matter what the rest of the Pines say.
Dipper's mainly just making sure he won't die. Maybe the fact that he's old is catching up to him?
"I might have to keep this up for the rest of my life if you keep this up," you sighed, shaking your head as you dabbled some ointment on his wound.
Ford chuckled, staring at your concentrated face. "Maybe I wouldn't mind."
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methoughtsphantom · 4 months ago
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Danny fake guardian angel au
You know how sometimes it’s highlighted how you have to be very careful on what you say in the presence of a spirit because they can twist your words and end up bidding yourself to it?? well uno-reverse-card the spirit also has to be careful on what he says because when Danny had said he owed the dude one for coming to his rescue in a gala Vlad had dragged him to, he didn’t expect that to be taken literally.
danny: wait seriously?? i literally say that all the time!
cw: not after being crowned ghost king, you haven’t
danny: but—but I was also human when I said it. doesn’t that protect me or smth
cw: *shakes his head*
danny:
danny: omg this is a nightmare
cue timmy’s brucequest period (cuz he’s the guy) being so high strung and tired, he just wants some company, which is a so low stakes thing to want the deal Danny unintentionally goes sure we can do that and pulls him towards the guy, despite Timmy never outright saying he wants company. (tim always speaks in the sanctity of his own mind, not out loud)
So. random spirit manifesting. Tim going all who the fuck are u
and Danny panicking and saying your guardian angel
Tim not being impressed while Danny promptly blushes like a moron because that did not come off as he wanted it to.
Yes accidental dead tired where the dynamic goes from Tim trying to shake this probably demon that somehow latched to him being all like ??? dude leave me alone, and Danny being there like bitch i’m trying
to
huh. im actually being protected by a spirit like he said he would. he’s strangely an idiot but also he’s overpowered and just never leaves my side which he says it’s an angel obligation but I think it’s bullshit but also hoping it’s not because it appeals to my crippling fear of abandonment (anyways he really seems to take after those little cartoon angels that poof into your shoulder to keep from me doing wrong decisions) translate into my future boyfriend seems increasingly appalled to what i am up to
meanwhile danny
Bitch you better thank your god I’m dead because otherwise I would already been killed. I did not sign up for a assassins what the fuck I thought you were a normal civilian not a literal superhero and omg that is a fruitloop. no no back off you wrinkly raisin this is my emotional support idiot you can’t have him and what do you mean you’re messing with time whatever this way I can get back to clockwork—
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stareaterau · 4 months ago
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Chapter 1 episode 5
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(special thanks to @bucket-of-cheese for this episode cover art!, as well as @karkatwaddles @chip-the-dip @scrambledlikeeggs @kairamuwu with editing)
---
Our favourites cross paths
CW: threats made with a weapon, mentions of injuries
Read below↓
Or AO3
Time passes, though horribly slower in the desert heat.
Grian and Scar both spend their morning groggy and aching from the phantom fight the previous evening. Not to mention the little rest they were able to get during the relatively short night that this planet provides.
Now that they feel rested enough, Grian shoots up high above the canyon with a few strong beats of his wings. Scar watches him from the ground as he makes a few circles in the sky before he dives down back to join him. With a greater bearing on his surroundings, thanks to the high vantage point, Grian picks a direction that seems most prominent to head towards. He returns grumbling about how he could see something in the distance, but it looked like nothing more than a bunch of junk to him. Not much of the optimist it seems, but Scar prides himself on being able to make the most of any situation. He pats Grian's back, giving a small speech about how 'that a bunch of junk was better than nothing after all'. Grian blinks slowly, reluctantly agreeing. They have a destination now!
Grian consistently finds himself needing to catch up with Scar, occasionally mumbling about how the ground is too flat and something about bird feet. It’s obvious by how he’s fidgeting that he’d rather be flying, even though that option means either leaving Scar behind or carrying him there. And as much as Scar wants to ask, he’s also scared he might lose an eye as a result.
He leaves the slightly personal question unasked, the conversation instead being filled with Grian complaining about walking. He hesitates when their passage opens up to the blaring, exposed sun. Holding his hand up to shield himself from the harsh light, he scrunches his face, occasionally wincing when his hot metal limbs hit his skin with his heavy, tired steps.
Scar himself isn’t having much of a fun time either. The leg braces he uses aren’t meant to be put under a lot of strain for such a long time. It’s only a matter of time before they might snap. The grains of sand grating against them are probably hastening the unit's deterioration. He'll have to use Grian as support if they do break.. and go through the laborious task of requesting a new pair from the Vindicators.
Occasionally they have to take a break, with Scar trying to brush as much dust and sand from the joints of the braces, doing the most he can to slow down any decay it might have caused them. On the other hand, Grian uses the opportunity to rest, immediately slumping against the nearest wall and fanning himself with his tail.
Scar has long since taken off his jacket and tied it around his waist, relieved by the fact he'd been wearing a tank top underneath. The lack of sleeves feels like a world of difference in the heat, not that he wouldn't take it off completely if need be, despite his company. Every so often, he catches Grian's lingering looks when he thinks Scar isn't watching, his expression weirdly guarded and lost in thought. One time, when he notices he’s being examined, Scar flexes jokingly in response, receiving a roll of the eyes and quiet mutterings about indecency.
Despite how hot it is and how much his company seems to fidget and scratch at the uncomfortable feathers underneath, Grian seems insistent on keeping his layers on.
Finally, they reenter the shade, and the winged man groans, flinging around his stiff arms.
”What's wrong?” Scar turns around, watching as the strange man shakes out his feathers. Sand rains down as he does as if the sunlight has been caking him in the sand.
"I lost my helmet and, therefore, my visor. It sucks."
“Sucks how?"
"The light hurts my eyes." Grian rubs at his temples, scrunching his eyes closed.
Scar tilts his head in response, confused. It’s bright, not enough to be painful yet, but it’s clearly bothering Grian more somehow.
When he’s met with a lack of a retort, Grian glances up at Scar, quickly taking note of his confused expression. He rolls his eyes like he knows what Scar is thinking.
"I'm a glare," he says so simply, answering the unspoken question.
"Not… glare-leaning? Or an avian?" Scar, not so subtly, looks Grian up and down, the other tensing uncomfortably with a weird look to match.
"No."
"But…" Scar trails off, not quite being sure how to ask respectfully.
"I have wings?" Grian finishes for him, like he’s heard it all before. Tucking his wings behind his back on reflex, he takes in a deep breath, as if psyching himself up for a speech.
A series of looks flash across his face. Scar waits patiently, only for Grian to breathe out a quiet "Yeah," with no further elaboration.
"Glares can have wings?"
"This one can. It's complicated." Grian walks past Scar, losing eye contact deliberately as he strolls ahead. He doesn’t appear upset at least, bored is the closest to how Scar could describe it.
"But… How?" Scar asks cautiously, against his better judgment.
"Family curse from hitting a magical bird with a ship centuries ago." Grian holds his hands out, imitating piloting, before hitting his hands together with a metal clank. "BAM! Wings for all your firstborns."
"Wait, really?" Scar exclaims. Genuinely believing Grian’s story. He catches up to him with a quick jog, looking to the glare in an attempt to get a read of his face only to be met with a smirk. Oh.
"Nah-" Grian chuckles to himself, patting Scar on the shoulder.
Scar watches as he continues up ahead, looking at the feathered tail with a new perspective. A glare. That explains why his feathers look so real — they’re a feature all Glares possess to varying degrees – and his deep inky eyes that never seem to shrink, even in the harsh light. Maybe the wings are just artificial add-ons, but that doesn’t feel right — they’re far too realistic and fluid. He shakes the thought out of his head. It probably isn’t polite to dwell on it, the subject is obviously something Grian doesn’t want to talk about.
But no, Scar isn’t about to be done with this conversation completely.
"Prove you’re a glare, then."
Grian, who had walked slightly ahead, stops and turns around to give Scar an almost offended look before he shrugs, replacing it with an amused, yet tired one.
“Sure,” he says with a resigned sigh.
Without warning, everything in Scar’s sight goes dark, like an all-encompassing shadow out of nowhere, the murky nothingness only just reaching his toes. He sticks his hands out in front of him, looking at them as they become outlined by a dark void.
He knows what this is. Most glares possess this skill, it’s the baseline ability tied to their magic. ‘Darkness’ he thinks he remembers it being called. Scar has never experienced it first hand though, and he can’t help but ogle the slightly frightening power.
“Whoah-”
As quickly as it appeared, the gloom flees, leaving him with the less-than-friendly, hot reflective sands.
Grian looks at him curiously, his arms crossed.
“Okay, so believe me now?”
Scar smiles, nodding vigorously.
“That was sooo cool!!”
Grian very hesitantly smiles back, turning away before Scar can process it completely.
Despite his wary demeanour, he secretly revels in the reaction, not quite being able to help but grin to himself.
“Can you do illusion magic too?” Scar asks, making Grian's steps hesitate for just a second, the mood in the air changing quickly. His back is still facing Scar, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing the slight shudder in Grian’s shoulders, and the subtle flicks of his feathers.
“…No,” is all he says in slow response… too slowly.
Ah, so another sour subject, it feels like Scar is collecting them all. As much as he wants to pry, he feels like he has asked enough.
There’s a lapse in their conversation as Scar's eyes wander. They both continue walking, albeit slowly, probably due to Grian's obvious intent to savour the shade when passing through it.
"If the sun's bothering you that much, why don't you just do the darkness thing to yourself?" Scar inquires, filling the silence.
"That's not how it works. It's only a perception, I don't actually switch off the sun," Grian replies, his voice back with some light, the previous question forgotten.
"Oh."
"And trust me, oh how I want to switch off this sun." He holds his long claws up to the sky, imitating crushing the light that peeks from the shade touching the tips of his claws.
“I'll still get the painful headache even if I make everything dark for me.”
Scar glances down to his waist, where his own helmet has been clipped. He once again catches up to Grian, leg braces creaking slightly.
"… I could give you my helmet." He hands it to him.
Grian looks down at the poor thing with a gentle look on his face.
"It's got a huge crack in it, so it's pretty much useless. Sorry about that, by the way." He flicks a guilty look at Scar before settling back into stride ahead of him.
"I wouldn't call it useless-'' Scar looks down at it with a frown. He hopes he can repair it, it’s dear to him.
"Even if it wasn't, I would never put that thing on."
"What’s wrong with the cat ears?" Scar questions, a smile evident in his voice. He knows well that it isn’t his cute accessories that’s deterring Grian from putting the helmet on, he just thinks it’s amusing to indicate so.
He holds up the helmet up in front of Grian, closing one eye and envisioning him wearing it with a smirk.
Grian squawks out a laugh and pushes the helmet aside, "Hah. Ironically, I don’t have a problem with that, though I wouldn’t break the dress code just to put cat ears on a helmet."
"You know about the codes?"
"Sorta. I mean, I've unfortunately become very familiar with them – know your enemy or whatever."
"You really don't like vindicators, then," Scar says, with no malice in his voice. He’s more curious than anything.
"I feel like that much should be obvious."
Scar hops ahead of Grian, stepping slightly in front of him so that Grian has no choice but to look at him. "Well, I'm okay, right?" Scar smiles tilting his head.
He watches the bird’s gaze shift from the dust on Scar’s boots up to meet his eye, a brow raised.
And with a genuine smile and quiet laugh, Grian answers "Yeah, you're alright".
"Be careful they might be dangerous."
While navigating through a particularly maze-like part of the ravine. Grian had stopped abruptly, and grabbed Scar by the shirt mid-conversation, pulling him around a corner.
Scar attempted to ask what was wrong only for Grian to shush him, hissing about how he’d seen two figures deeper in.
Wiggling slightly out of Grian's hold, Scar popped his head around briefly, catching a glance at their new company.
There were, in fact, two figures who sat up against a stony wall as the passage opened up, connecting to another, larger passage. Scar and Grian had an advantage, as the corner shielded them from view. One figure had their back to them, their large silhouette obscuring the other figure from view. The only indication there was even two, being the distinct overlap of a conversation that could barely be heard from where Grian and Scar were hidden.
And that brings them to the present, with Scar tapping his chin, debating different ideas of how to approach them. Grian listens as he impatiently claws at the ground, grumbling at each suggestion that leaves the other's mouth.
There’s a quiet shift in the sand to Scar's side and he turns to watch as Grian shifts closer to him, his shoulders hunched slightly and wings puffed up.
Scar finds himself suppressing the urge to compare him to a pinecone.
"Why would they be dangerous?" Scar asks, tilting his head slightly. Confused about the other's comment.
Grian splutters, mouth working but not making noises aside from baffled squeaks before he eventually coughs.
"… I mean, I was a stranger a mere hours ago and I had a blade to your heart, dude." His voice pitches up at the end, causing him to flinch when it echoes slightly against the walls. He ducks as if that would stop the sound, scooting closer to Scar, further from the stranger's direction.
"….Well, you're not doing that right now." Scar smiles a wide grin, hushing his voice pointedly before shrugging.
Grian just stares at him, almost as if testing Scar’s smile, before he rolls his eyes and scoffs,
"… Can't argue with that logic."
Scar's smile grows slowly, bright and excited at Grian's agreement. He watches all of Grian's feathers stand up even more somehow, catching on to Scar's enthusiasm.
“Don't-”
"Glad you trust me!" Scar beams.
"I wouldn't go that far, trust is a strong word," Grian pulls a dubious look before grumbling and looking away. He shakes his shoulders as if trying to suppress the stress that’s putting him and his feathers on edge.
“I honestly don't think it's a good idea to even approach them– People are almost always bad news in these situations. We could just work our way around them…” he trails off mumbling to himself.
“But that's no fun!” Scar hums lightly, nudging the bird out of his strategizing. “Besides, they could help us!”
Grian doesn’t reply, just huffs with a scowl that squishes his face comically.
Scar absently scratches at his chin before he leans up against the wall pressing his forearm high above Grian, leaning over, the other doing a double take, clearly taken back by how much Scar is leaning over into his space. He'll have to put on his charm to try and convince the bird, his most effective tactic.
"You're nervous but I can assure you this, I can gain any advantage in a situation, just by talking" He gives him a cheesy lopsided grin.
"What- do you possess the ability to talk someone to death? Boredom? Into sleep, perhaps?" Grian replies in the most mocking and deadpan tone, meeting his energy.
"All of the above!!! Depending on the weather of course," He says, leaning in slightly with a whisper before bouncing back to that quietish tone of his, "and then I steal their stuff!!" Scar grins with more eagerness than Grian has seen in quite some time, causing the glare to let out a slight wheeze of laughter, raising an incredulous brow.
"Wow, you're really starting to sound more like a criminal." He veers his head to the side, grinning widely up at Scar, and bearing his sharp teeth.
Scar retracts his arm from the wall, an unsure look spoiling his smile. He can’t help darting his eyes to the side, almost taken aback by the former statement. "I mean … not if they're the bad guy, right?"
“That's a very rudimentary way of thinking.” Grian's grin falters slightly, that cold look flickering over him briefly, as his eyes narrow. He shakes away whatever thought he had, bringing the prior conversation back.
“Fine, you do you're talking thing then,” the bird swats at the air absently.
“And you'll be my hype man?” Scar bounces on his toes excitedly.
Grian gives too blank of an expression before pushing up his shoulders. “I'll do something,”
“AHA! Be amazed, small friend! At my infectious likeableness,” Scar stands up straighter and puffs out his chest, before moving to turn around the corner between them and the strangers only for sharp claws to gently grab his arm.
“Wait-”
“Oh oh! W-what?” Scar looks around shocked, but nothing is amiss, just the surprisingly warm touch of metal talons.
“You're intending to make a good impression, right?”
Scar splutters awkwardly as Grian doesn’t give him time to answer the obvious question.
“My advice? I'd hide that you're a Vindicator."
“…why?”
“Ah–” Grian awkwardly chuckles, retracting his grip and scratching at his head. “I thought I’d already established that the general public isn't too fond–” he loosely gestures Scar up and down.
Scar raises a brow, leaning on his hip and looking down at the bird. “Really? Are you the general public?” He smirks at his own witty remark.
“Just take my word for it, this definitely isn't Spawn, and I bet you haven't even travelled off planet before. You have that sparkly dumb innocent look in your eyes–”
Scar gasps and clutches his hand to his chest in false offence.
“I’m just saying, if you wanna do the whole friendly talking thing, I'd recommend not immediately making it known that you're a Vindicator.” Grian huffs.
Scar looks down dumbly at the bright blue jacket tied around his waist. Grian follows his line of sight and muffles a laugh, noticing Scar's mild panic at the glaring obvious beacon of his faction, taunting him along with a bright stitched ‘V’ clearly visible even with it tied at his waist.
“Just– turn it inside out or something–”
“Oh! Smart!” Scar claps his hands, wincing as the noise echoed against the walls. Grian glares at him.
He fumbles with the jacket, taking it off and turning it inside out before tying it back around his waist, and nodding with satisfaction. He looks back towards Grian, the glare watching him slightly amused. “Now, Bird friend, watch as I charm these members of the ‘general public’ with my insatiable charisma!”
“… You already said that. There's only so much ‘impressed’ I can hand out, I'm afraid.”
Scar ignores him as he brushes off as much dust as he can to look somewhat presentable. He leans forward with a step but stops as quickly as he started when his company doesn't make a move with him.
“You're not… coming with??”
“I am, I just want to linger back, for safety reasons– you know?” Grian still stands with his arms crossed but his face has morphed into something far more neutral, clawed feet firmly digging into their place in the sand.
“Oh! Smart!” Scar replies. He continues, but not before catching the faint flicker of a smile from his companion.
Scar confidently marches towards the strangers, too distracted by his plan to notice the quiet whoosh of feathers behind him.
“Why, hello there!”
“EEEEK!”
“OH MY GOSH–” both of the strangers scream at Scar, frantically scrambling back in the sand up to a stand.
The shorter one gawks at Scar, their left arm held stiffly as their right tugs on the other's sleeve pulling them both back further. They push themselves in front in an act that almost could have been intimidating if the other wasn't practically two times their size.
Now, up close, Scar takes the two in. The shorter one appears to be a blazeborn, fuzzy and yellow with clothes that looked like they weren't originally suited for the heat, evident by the thick winter coat tied around their waist, mirroring Scar’s, and the torn-off sleeves of their shirt. The other stands several heads taller, also strangely cradling their right arm. They’re far less identifiable, but the several neat feathers that frame their face and shoulders definitely imply that they’re probably at least glare adjacent, even with their height. They’re wearing what can be described as cowboy attire, sans a hat, and look far more in place in this setting.
“Oh, you're just a guy…” the taller one eventually speaks out after their initial panic.
“Yup, just a guy!” Scar stands up straighter, suppressing a wince as his leg braces squeak obnoxiously. “Sorry to cause a fright,” he smiles apologetically.
The two of them glance at each other, then back to Scar with bewildered expressions.
“I think I might be lost! And maybe you are too? We were wondering if you could help”.
“We?” One of them asks.
“OH! Well! I'm Scar and this here is my lackey.” He turns to look for Grian only to be met with the empty, dusty ground and no bird in sight.
“They're …not here?”
“Who-” Scar hears one of them ask. He doesn’t even have time to turn to identify who before a flurry of feathers swoops down and blocks his view.
The two figures scream for a second time as the taller one is pushed roughly aside by brown wings, falling clumsy in the sand and landing in a way that causes them to choke out a yelp.
“OW OW OW, I CAN'T SEE!” They sit up quickly with one arm hanging loosely over their chest, the other grasping and rubbing at their face and eyes in confusion. They continue to yell in panic, “WHAT HAPPENED I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING-”
“Drop whatever weapons you have,” Grian turns, holding the blaze in his grasp. He holds his wings wrapped around them, keeping their arms pinned. He uses one of his clawed hands to cover their mouth, the other holding a blue, glowing blade to their neck.
“What- what happened to the talking plan?” Scar sways on his feet. Too much is happening in such a brief moment, and all his plans for conversations are useless, blown to the wind.
“Too slow,” Grian replies bluntly.
The figure in Grian’s grasp desperately tries to muster out a muffled scream against Grian's hand, only causing the bird to tighten his hold and sword to their neck.
Scar feels lost. He looks to the other who is still on the ground, using one hand to touch the sand.
“I can't see!- It's all dark- Tango?!-”
The pure distress in their voices, mixed with the muffled yelping of the other, makes Scar falter, his mind short-circuiting in the chaos. He weirdly feels scared, that same fear of Grian and his cold look is all too familiar to barely a day ago. A fear that he apparently didn't realise still has a frightful hold on him, his shoulder pulsing passively with pain on cue with the memory.
Despite the fear, he can’t help but step forward, reaching out to diffuse the situation.
Strangely enough, Grian flinches back. He stares up at Scar like he had completely forgotten he was there, his confused look immediately being chased away as the trapped stranger shifts in his hold. His expression quickly returning to an unreadable one.
“Let them talk… maybe? Please?” Scar asks slowly. Grian looks up at him with those deep dark eyes, cold and empty before a nearly embarrassed look crosses his face. He lowers the hand that had held the stranger's mouth, but the blade, however, is still pinned to their throat.
Immediately the blaze gasps and begins yelling “Please we're injured, we mean no harm- please-”
“…. Huh,” Grian squeezes tighter subconsciously, as they kick in his grasp.
“Our arms- OW! QUIT IT- LET GO!”
They shove against Grian, his grip loosening just enough for them to push out as he moves his blade. All of a sudden the bird looks incredibly guilty.
“What the hell man!” The shorter man scrambles to their partner's side, leaning down and giving them their arm to grab onto. They keep their eyes on Grian, scowling as the other weakly uses their hold to stand up.
In an almost too cheery voice for the situation, the taller one speaks, “I can see again! What was that?”
Their gaze immediately lands on Grian, who tenses under it.
“You’re a bird?” They mutter dumbly after rubbing their eyes and squinting at him.
Grian steps back, still holding his weapon by his side. He gives the tall man a look up and down his expression twisting into something uncomfortable.
“Not one of yours,” he mumbles back.
“Sorry, sorry?” the taller coughs, completely confused, but Grian ignores them.
“You're hurt, both of you?” Grian hums, pointing the end of his sword in their direction as he makes a move to stand by Scar's side, who stands, silently wringing his hands, considering his next steps.
They both nod, fear and anger plain on their faces, each holding an arm tightly to their chests.
A quiet sort of relief washes over Grian as he puts away his sword. His expression morphing into amusement, with a tinge of sheepishness.
“Wow, that's inconvenient! You don't pose much of a threat then, huh?” He tries to joke and smile, the expression faulting only when their company makes no indication of finding that comment funny, at all.
Scar shifts awkwardly to his side, considering many different options on what to do next moves through his head before he steps in front of Grian, a goofy grin being plastered across his lips.
“So… maybe we should start over?”
“You think?” The blaze spits, their shimmering flame-like hair sparking in reaction.
“We were only taking precautions, there are dangerous people in this big universe, you know!” Scar tries to lessen the anger with that same cheesy grin.
“I'd argue, you're one of them! Or at least they are,” They point towards the bird, who does nothing but look away, crossing his arms.
“Just a common misunderstanding, we apologise. Let me reintroduce myself-” Scar tries to step forward with a handshake, but both of them move away from him pointedly. Instead, he retreats to Grian’s side, putting his hands up defensively, giving them more space to feel safe.
“Well, I'm Scar! Like I- already mentioned-” he nervously chuckles the last bit, then gestures to the glare. “-and this is Grian”
“Ah, so we're giving them our names- cool,” the other grumbles, his back practically turned to them, appearing like he’s given up on the exchange.
A tense atmosphere falls heavily on the four as awkward silence fills the air. Scar's eyes glance to the taller of the duo, who meets his gaze with a similar, nervous expression, unlike the blazeborn who stands next to them, festering with an anger that seems to almost crackle off of them in flames.
The tall one eventually finds the courage to speak, unsure and hesitant, without the anger and murderous look that their companion seems to have.
"Well, I'm Jimmy! And this is Tango!" Jimmy speaks with a similar cheer and charisma to Scar.
"Yup," the blaze, Tango, snaps with a slight snarl on his lips. His injured arm tightly held against his body, crossing over his chest as he stares daggers in the direction of Scar and Grian. There’s another pause of quiet that only causes the air to grow more uneasy, so thick with awkwardness that it can be cut with a knife. Tango and Grian stand their ground while Jimmy begins to kick at the sand absent-mindedly and an awkward cough escapes from Scar.
The former can't help but wring his hands once again, standing unsure in the moment before he decides to speak once again, "You seem tense,"
"YOU THINK?" Tango barks out, that snarl only growing angrier as he drops his hand to his side and balls it into raging fists.
Jimmy quickly tries to hop to some sort of defence, "We haven't seen anybody yet- we didn't really expect anyone to-" he’s cut off by Tango's eyes whipping over to look at him, the blazeborn pointing a finger to his neck,
"A KNIFE. TO MY THROAT." He speaks loud and clear making it obvious, if anyone can't tell, why he’s angry.
At that, Grian turns to the conversation, his tail flicking behind him. “Ah- Well, I didn't break your skin and, you know, I apologised.”
“Actually, you haven’t-” Jimmy points out, frowning.
“Oh… sorry?” Grian shrugs.
“I already dislike you-”
He ignores Jimmy turning to Scar with a neutral expression, “Right, Scar, ready to go?“
“What?”
“YOU'RE GOING TO JUST LEAVE US?” Jimmy shouts whilst Tango just looks unsurprised.
“Well, you're both injured so-” Grian says nonchalantly, not bothering to finish his sentence like it’s obvious.
“THAT'S CRIMINAL-” Jimmy squawkes.
Grian doesn’t reply, instead, lightly reaching for Scar, a weird sort of hesitance to his grasp, looking as if he’s going to grab Scar's arm, only to move to pull at his shirt. Scar doesn't move.
“We could- help them?”
Grian looks at him with a troubled look but doesn't say anything in response.
“You know?” He, in fact, makes no indication of knowing. “We have medical supplies, remember?”
Tango's eyebrow shoots up, his angry scowl morphing into intrigue. “Healing?”
“SCAR- Cool now they know our names and our resources-” the bird grumbles, Eying the two with a cold glare. He crunches up his nose, then looks back to Scar. “We're not giving them anything for free.”
“…Well I mean, we could always offer a trade.” Scar tries to smile, trying his best to appeal to Grian with a warm grin.
Grian takes in a deep breath, contemplating for a couple of seconds before he points at the strangers and clicks his tongue. “What do you two have to offer?”
“Do you have an ender chest?” Scar pipes in quickly.
“…No.”
“We don't really have anything-”
Grian hums in acknowledgement then smirks at Scar. “There you go, shall we leave then-”
Tango interrupts quickly as the winged man once again tries to pull Scar away. “We have some knowledge! You said you’re lost! I know some things to help! About this game-”
“Game?” Scar repeats.
“No thank you-” Grian now switches from pulling at Scar to pushing him.
“But aren't you curious? We have theories!”
“All good, we have our own plans, thank you.” He huffs in an effort to try and move Scar, but for once Scar has an advantage over him in height and strength. He barely moves.
“Okay! Deal!” Scar finally replies.
“SCAR!” Grian stops pushing Scar, instead staring at him like an angry feathered hedgehog. It takes all of Scar’s willpower not to laugh at him.
“We'll only tell you anything once you heal us,” Tango adds.
“Hah! As if that wasn't already a bad deal-” Grian mumbles mostly to himself.
“-What about during?”
“Okay, during.” Tango agrees to Scar.
Grian finally acknowledges the blaze, as he holds a hand to his chest and baps at Scar with the other. He scowles between them all. “Hey, hey. I'm the one with the supplies, you should be negotiating with me-”
He cuts himself off at the look Scar gives him. His lips press into a tight frown as he crosses his arms and taps his claws, the processing of his thoughts buried deep in his brow.
Scar tilts his head at him slightly.
“Ugh fine,” Grian finally relents, before huffing off to the side and making an upset display of sitting down and disrupting the dusty sand with a flap of his wings, the others coughing slightly.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Take a seat. Let me heal your stupid bones,” he finally spits when the others don’t make any motion, prompting the pair to finally move.
“Oh, it's really rich of you to think I'd let you get anywhere near to my arm again-” Tango replies, unamused.
“Well you're going to just have to deal with it,” Grian replies to Tango with a sardonic grin, “These are my supplies and I'd like to keep some autonomy in this situation.”
“If it makes you feel any better he healed me pretty well,” Scar chimes in, pulling his tank top aside, to show off the slightly bloody gauze. Tango scrutinises the wound, hissing sympathetically, looking towards Grian who’s trying and failing to look not guilty.
“… I suppose.” Jimmy hums, next to Tango.
Both he and Tango awkwardly shuffle towards the winged man, within arms reach of each other, they sit down in unison, Tango’s tail hooking onto Jimmy's ankle.
“You! Beanpole! Give me your arm” Grian moves closer, sitting up on his knees.
“Me?” Jimmy replies confused.
“Yes you, I don't see any actual bean poles around here do you? I'm talking to your daft mug.”
“You don't have to insult me so much, man-” Jimmy grumbles as he complies, as Grian makes a start on assessing his injuries.
There’s a couple of minutes of uncomfortable quiet, occasionally interrupted by grumbles and yelps. Scar stands, watching his company. He looks towards Tango, who it keeping a calculated watch on what Grian is doing.
“You didn't expect to be here…” Scar slowly sits in front of Tango. His eyes bright with intrigue.
Tango just turns to look at him confused. “What?”
“Those clothes-” Scar points at the thick coat, cushioning the blaze as he sits crossed-legged.
“Oh! OH, that's actually pretty intuitive.” He smiles at Scar and scoots closer indicating for him to listen.
“Yeah I'm not from here, I was working on a pretty cold planet, before …uh.”
“Waking up with no memories of how you got here?” Scar finishes, beaming.
Tango leans back, his grin faltering slightly. “…Yeah.”
“How'd you know that!?” Jimmy asks from behind them, apparently having been listening in.
“We're the same! Actually! We don't remember at all how we got here.”
“Even him?” Tango gestures coldly over his shoulders, not even looking in Grian's direction.
“Even him!”
“Interesting,” Tango appears to drift into his thoughts before Grian coughs loudly.
“Alright then, if you want me to do this, well, you better start to tell your story.”
Tango shoots him an angry look, then dusts off his trousers before sitting up straight, getting comfortable. He looks at Scar, coughs, and smiles.
“Well, first you gotta know some of my history.”
Scar watches Grian roll his eyes from over Tango's shoulder.
“I worked as… hmmm sorta freelance. I'm an architect, redstoner- weird lil’ guy with a nac for bizarre contraptions. I take all and any kind of jobs I can find across the universe, a travelling mechanic if you will,” Tango grins, pleased. “I'm actually- saving up so I can own a hermit settlement, start a small self-sustaining industry, build all kinds of wacky farms! Just work for me, you know?”
He pauses, waiting for a response only to be met with puzzled looks.
“Uhhh that's beside the point. What I’m getting at is that owning the land to make a hermit settlement is a lot of money and prep. And as it goes, the jobs that pay the most tend to be the most…. questionable. I like to believe I'm a good judge of character when it comes to my clients, I know when the people who are giving me a tempting offer are bad news, and I usually decline. I'm not about putting myself in trouble for a pretty price.”
Tango inhales, his thumb worrying over his knuckle, and continues.
“But there was this one job- These very mysterious individuals offered me a job to create a game! It honestly was a very tempting offer, because they were giving me so much free range with what I built. The only requirement was that any number of people could enter the game and there could only be one winner. And they offered me a lot of money for it.”
Scar clocks Grian making a small sneer.
“So I took it, I took the deal and started designing my game. I uhhh- I sort of made, think like… dungeon crawler type deal.”
“Wait but you said you didn't make dungeons,” Jimmy interrupts.
“Going to be honest, I didn't expect you to hit that nail on the head.” Tango turns to Jimmy, giving him a small smile, before patting him gently on his shoulder. “Pretty impressive.”
Jimmy splutters, his expressions flip flopping between being offended and proud.
“Anyway… as I was saying, the more I worked for them, the more I started to suspect a few things. They kept insisting on things in my design to be more…”
He swirled his hand around “Let's say lethal. And that was before I started noticing how much resources and wealth my employer owned. They kept giving me things with ease, I started even asking for stuff I knew was hard to find like enchantments and whatnot. And they didn't even sweat.”
He cuts himself off, a conflicted look shadowing his face.
“When I put my energy into a project, I put my whole heart in. This dungeon was my… my child! I’d been working on it for months! Almost years! I didn't like how they were twisting it. They kept taking away the things I included to make the game fair. And that was my last straw.”
“I ran, and I tried to take all the important endgame design prints with me. I couldn't let them use my work to hurt people in the gruesome ways that they so clearly wanted to do. And now I'm here.”
“…Oh, that's rough,” Scar replies.
Nodding Tango stares down at his lap, rubbing at the worn pads of his hands. He looks genuinely sad for a minute before he shakes that look away and carries on.
“Yeah, so what I'm saying is- I got to see enough of the kind of work these people were doing to notice a pattern.”
“The people I worked for were definitely Enders, and I believe they're probably pretty high up considering rather than taking planets and trading pearls, they were employing people to take their enemies and put them into ‘games' for their entertainment.”
“And I think we're in one of those games right now,”
Tango grins wildly, holding a finger up to emphasise his conclusion.
“WHOA, what really?”
“Ugh,” Grian grumbles.
“And if my assumption is correct, I think we've all wronged an Ender before, right?”
He shuffles so that all four of them were sat in a circle.
“I mean- me! Clearly, with leaving the job.” He points to himself and then to Jimmy. “You said something about Enders secretly operating in the town you were sheriffing.”
Grian’s gloomy expression immediately gets replaced with intrigue as he looks up from his lap for the first time during the conversation with Jimmy.
“You're a sheriff?” Scar asks.
“YES, I am for a matter of fact, from a small town on the Nether.” Jimmy smiles widely, adjusting his hair confidently.
“Now that's surprising…” Grian remarks to himself.
Jimmy either doesn't hear or ignores him as he continues. “Well it's more a self-proclaimed title, not much goes on in my town and I mostly just… give directions to the elderly and get bullied by local kids,”
“Nevermind.”
Jimmy shoots Grian a dirty look, the latter smirking back before he goes back to working on the supplies in his lap.
“But yes! Recently I tried to uncover a mystery and encountered Enders,”
“And that's the last thing you remember doing right?” Tango inquires.
“… Yeah, actually.”
He looks towards Scar “And you… what about you?”
“Oh.”
Everyone looks at Scar with intrigue. Grian has his head dipped down still, his gaze, though, points, staring straight at him.
Ah, right, not-a-Vindicator time.
“Well, I'm a mayor, as a matter of fact.”
Everyone looks at him like it was the last thing they expected him to say, including Grian.
Scar coughs, chasing off the nervous wobble in his voice and he sits up straight ready to prove his charm.
“For a pretty unknown-” Scar awkwardly trails off, not really familiar enough with space life for his own lie. “…hermit settlement! A beloved staple of the community, birds and children sing when I roam the streets.”
The others look at him speechless, he can feel them doubting him. Alright then, maybe he should learn to be more believable.
“The last thing I remember doing, actually, was chasing a criminal down an alley!” He settles on. He sees Grian go still. “It was epic and had glorious explosions and everything, a truly action-filled adventure-”
He stops when he feels Grian subtly thump him with his tail. Hiding the movement by sitting up, done with dressing Jimmy's wounds and moving on to Tango.
Tango ignores him, too interested in Scar’s story. “Was this criminal an Ender by chance?”
“Oh! Yes!” He very almost forgot that was what Tango was asking to begin with.
Tango sits up straighter with a look of triumph and excitement on his face.“That makes three out of four.”
“…Not a chance,” Grian says coldly.
Tango finally turns to him, Grian looking up whilst sorting out the supplies he has left.
“What?”
“I'm not telling you my story like we're all sat around a campfire-”
“We're trying to help, isn't that what you asked for?” Tango argues.
“This isn't helpful information, it's just a lot of assumptions and guesses.”
“Calculated guesses! And besides, what else could you possibly know about what's going on? Enlighten me,” Tango challenges him.
“I don't… but I also don't see how knowing all this even helps us in our current situation.”
Grian leans back from where he had been hunched over, closes his eyes, and flings his hand around in an almost smug way. “Yada yada, scary rich people put a bunch of losers into a death game. That doesn't help me whilst we're supposedly in one.”
“You find yourself in a lot of death games then?” Tango grins bitterly.
“I- '' Somehow that waveres Grian’s response briefly, he clears his throat before resuming. “I like information that helps. This doesn't- this doesn't fix a broken arm or get us any closer to escaping.”
“Well maybe it can- we can go ahead knowing that there's probably traps or trials set for us.” Scar says. The two look at Jimmy and Scar who had been quietly observing their conversation.
“Like the beeping!” Jimmy responds.
“Yeah-”
“OH, THE PHANTOMS!” Scar exclaims.
“Phantoms?”
Scar wiggles in the dust with delight. “Yeah! We encountered phantoms on our journey, which is a pretty odd place to find them,”
“Stole my helmet,” Grian grumbles, less happy.
“Yeah… they were definitely placed here intentionally, we almost got killed by them!” Scar exclaims. He sits up straighter and puffs out his chest. “But I fought them off valiantly.”
Tango and Jimmy share a doubtful look.
“And what about you two- did you guys encounter anything strange?” Scar claps his hands together, intrigued.
Grian rests on his arm and gestures loosely to them. “Strange enough to break both your arms?”
At that both Jimmy and Tango look at each other, coming to a realisation that makes them both grin wildly at each other.
“OH and THAT'S another thing,” Jimmy says far too gleefully.
“The game makers must have included this other mechanic to make it difficult for us!” Tango injects, matching his energy. He and Jimmy talk in slightly hushed yet excited voices to one another, Tango playfully pushing at Jimmy and whispering something about how it all made sense now.
Scar and Grian just blink blankly, clearly missing something. When neither of the two gives them context, instead excitedly making noises at each other over a discovery, Scar coughs.
“What mechanic?” He leans closer, curiously.
“We are linked! Somehow!” Jimmy exclaims loudly.
“It's probably a curse and enchantment related. But we feel and suffer the same wounds, hence… broken arms'' Tango adds.
“So you both broke your arm?” Scar hums still confused.
“No no just Jimmy, he fell.”
“Gracefully!” Jimmy interrupts with too much enthusiasm.
“Gracefully… from the top of the ravine. I was just walking nearby and received the injury too,” Tango sits back a little and loosely holds up his injured arm.
Scar hums to himself, gaze jumping between his company and their injuries. “So it's a proximity thing?”
Tango sits up fast with a gasp of excitement. “That's a good point! I don't know.”
He leans forward cautiously, still holding his bad arm to his chest as he beckons Scar to come closer.
Both Jimmy and Grian look at each other confused before Tango flicks Scar hard on the nose. Causing him to make a startled yelp noise.
With how they lean over, neither manages to notice as Grian also flinches, hand briefly touching his own nose, before he notices Jimmy watching him and stops.
“Nope didn't feel that,” Tango says, veering back to his previously comfortable position.
Scar reclines back too, leg braces creaking slightly as he rubs his nose and makes a small sad noise.
“Did you?” Tango turns to Jimmy who’s looking weirdly at Grian.
Tango nudges him, the taller shaking out of whatever thought he was having.
“Oh- no I didn't.”
He looks back to Grian who’s in the process of not so subtly shifting further from the others.
“Maybe… Are you two together?” Jimmy prompts, pinning Grian specifically with a look.
Obliviously, Scar says, “We just met,” still holding his nose.
“No, he meant the weird pain link thing,” Tango responds with a slight laugh.
“Oh!! Hold on-” Scar excitedly lifts his head up, his sore nose quickly forgotten. He turns to Grian who had been trying his best to not be noticed the whole exchange.
Moving too fast and suddenly, Scar goes to pinch his arm, only to hit his hand against metal. The realisation hits him dumbly, but not before he watches Grian cry out and pull back fearfully with an expression Scar doesn’t think he's ever seen on the man's face before.
Grian regains his composure quicker than Scar. He shakes off the scared look on his face but keeps his arms held close to his chest protectively.
Scar goes to apologise but Grian's voice interprets him. His attention directed away from Scar.
“No, we're not linked.”
Tango shrugs, titling his head at Jimmy and smiling.
“Well, maybe it's a thing specific to us,”
Jimmy pulls a slightly unconvinced face before agreeing. “Yeah probably.”
Grian finishes patching up Tango, ignoring the three as they descend into rambles and theories about it all.
He packs away his remaining supplies, looking pleased with his two patients' bandaged and slung arms, even as they pay him no mind.
He stands up, Scar is the first to look at him with a questioning expression.
“Welp! Considering I'm done… and you've given your less-than-useful information, I think it's our time to leave,” Grian brushes the dust off his trousers and holds out a hand for Scar.
“Scar?”
Scar doesn't move, he looks at the others and back to Grian, a guilty look on his face. “I actually think we should all stick together–”
Grian doesn't respond, instead pulling his hand away slowly. Scar continues.
“There’s clearly something much bigger going on here and I think teaming up is a safer option,”
The bird remains silent, his feathers betraying his blank face as they all pin. He blinks at Scar.
“I agree,” Jimmy speaks up awkwardly after a prolonged quiet.
Tango grins. “You're more than free to go off on your own,” he says snidely.
“Ah, well…” Scar splutters, standing up and holding his hands out, that's not what he meant at all, but Grian beats him to a response.
“No.”
“Wow… what a change of heart, you're scared of being alone?” Tango teases.
Grian pays no mind to the comments, his hurt look settling on Scar instead.
“Scar please, I can protect us both we don't need…” he loses his confidence, the end of his sentence teetering off.
Scar lets his arms hang at his side, as he looks at Tango and Jimmy, still sitting by each other's side. Now with both their arms in slings and, despite Tango's intimating expression, looking slightly pathetic in the hot sun.
“… they're hurting, Grian, I need to help,” he gives Grian a pleading look.
The glare stares at Scar, he seems to take in all of him, annoyed and confused. When suddenly, a brief flicker of understanding fills his features.
“… Grian?” Grian doesn’t look at him, instead, he stares at the dust to his side. Tail flicking at his side in frustration.
“I'm not leaving you,” he says simply. Refusing to elaborate.
A small part of Scar is surprised by Grian's response, his weird protectiveness over Scar, especially in context to how he’d acted towards the others. Scar can’t help but smile softly, even if Grian isn’t looking at him.
“So you'll agree to be a group?”
The bird turns to him with a hard look on his face, a disruption on his tongue before he cuts himself off, face flushing red when he realises Scar is smiling at him with a completely different energy. He bows his head slightly. “I'm staying with you, but I do not trust them.”
Scar sits down, explaining their travel plan, which honestly wasn't much since all they had done was travel in the direction of supposed man-made structures that had been spotted, hoping to not die in the process.
Grian positions himself slightly behind Scar as they all start laying out all their possessions. Comparing their resources with each other.
Out of everyone, Jimmy still has the most on him, carrying one container of water, which he apparently had forgotten about, he lets Grian and Scar take a swig, Tango insisting he doesn’t need it as much with being a blaze. They also have Grian's healing supplies, which at this point aren't very much, just a few alcohol wipes and gauze. Then also some dried meat Jimmy had and one package of dried cat treats that Scar had been carrying, and no one seems stoked about potentially eating.
Besides that, all they have is some random useless items in people’s pockets, all laid out in front of them. Anxious, taking in the unfortunate sight of what they have to survive on. Scar sits on his knees, ignoring how the braces creak as he leans on them.
Tango is watching Grian closely, mumbling under his voice like he’s trying to get Grian's attention, but the latter knows and deliberately ignores him.
Tango finally clears his throat and speaks up, tapping the sand in front of Grian to ensure he has his attention. “You have your weapon with you,” he says like it isn’t a question.
“Yes.” Grian doesn’t look at him, instead rewrapping a rope they had found in one of Jimmy's pockets. The rope rings slightly against his metal digits as he pulls the thread between them.
“So we all have our comms, storage, and defensive tools missing except for you,” Tango states snarkily.
“Well, I also have my comms and other stuff missing. Guess they accidentally skipped out on the knife.”
“How convenient for you,”
Grian deliberately disregards Tango's biting word, looking up at the other two. “We might have enough for a day or two more of travel? Could even hunt along the way… if there are even any animals.”
“The knife will be handy then.” Scar tries, looking at Tango with a cheery smile.
“Could also… maybe… find plants?” Jimmy says, They all look around at the dry, sandy landscape, only occupied by the occasional dead shrub, with dismay.
“How much collective knowledge do we have with foraging?”
“I used to be a baker!” Scar interjects excitedly.
“Cool!- But I don't see any flour or water, don't know how that's going to help us in this situation, bud,” Grian pats Scar on the back.
“Unless you are secretly an enderian and can just … teleport bread to us or something,” Tango adds jokingly.
“I'm not-”
“Are you?” Grian cuts in, the others realising quickly that he’s addressing Jimmy with a weird look.
Jimmy looks up confused, apparently not paying attention to where the conversation had drifted. “What?”
“You’re very tall… thought maybe-”
“Oh no, I'm a glare!” he replies.
Grian goes strangely still, that cold look filling his face. He looks like he wants to say something, but chooses against it, going back to meaninglessly fiddling with a rope.
“Well, it would have been super convenient to be an enderian with y’know …the lack of water,” Tango hums next to Jimmy.
“It might rain!” Jimmy notes gleefully.
“Rain? Here?”
“I mean maybe? These kinds of canyons get formed by water, so there's a real chance a flash flood might happen!” At the last statement, he looks nervous. ”Which depending on where we are, could help us or … be bad.”
“How do you know that?” Tango looks up at Jimmy with a gleam of curiosity.
“Well I get bored, and there's this neat little library in the Nether with a lot of unique landscapes and… “
Jimmy and Tango titter off into their own conversation about various formations of rocks and caverns in desert-like terrain. Scar's mind drifts aside as he watches billows of sand blow above them on the top of the ravine. He catches movement out the sides of his eye as Grian shifts.
The sun has moved more in the sky, the shade they had hidden in changing direction. The hot sun finally reaching them, first hitting the feathers on the Grian tail. He must have just noticed as he pushes himself away from it, a scowl on his face while he creeps away and bumps into Scar in the process.
They look up at each other, Grian jumping slightly when he notices he’s being watched, his ears pulling back as he looks away.
“We should get going. You guys rested enough?” He cuts the other two off, Tango drawing in the sand with his claws with Jimmy instructing him.
“Oh sure-” Jimmy replies. He stands, using his large tail to help push him up, before lending a hand to Tango.
Grian stumbles up into a stand on the sandy ground, hissing to himself and mumbling something along the lines of “dumb bird feet”. He looks at Scar who changed to sit with his legs in front of him, inspecting his leg braces and sighing.
“Those aren't meant for the desert, are they?” He holds out a hand which Scar takes, pulling himself to stand.
“Nope! Not really, more like indoor use.”
Grian frowns, opening his mouth to say something, but Tango cuts him off.
“Actually…” The blaze moves towards them, holding a hand behind his back, a snarky look crossing his face.
His gaze is glued directly on Grian as he pulls his uninjured hand out, holding it towards them. Grian's hands are still in Scar’s, he feels Grian's grip tighten subconsciously before he pulls his hand away in favour of crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Tango.
“You want this temporary alliance to go well right?”
“I mean… it would be convenient,” Grian frowns, confused about where Tango is going with this.
“Give me your knife,” Tango flicks his claws beckoning.
“… What?”
“I feel like it's very justified.”
“I'm not giving you my weapon,” Grian snaps, his hand moving to his side subconsciously.
Tango pulls his arm back, crossing it over with the other. “I still don't trust you, our minds would be more at ease if you didn't have that.” He looks up to Jimmy who’s looking over his shoulder, nodding slightly.
Scar looks at Grian whose back is turned to him, but regardless he can see the anger physically welling up, as his feathers stand up and his tail starts to flick back and forth. His claws hovering right above where the blade sits, ready.
“HAH, what do you think I care, there is no way I'd give it to you.” Grian spits.
Scar hears him take in a deep breath, sensing the start of something terrible happening. He takes a slightly stumbling step between them.
“I could take it,” Scar says simply. Both of them look up at him.
“I mean- you both seem to trust me more, so maybe I could carry it for now?” Scar tries, putting on his most easygoing smile. Tango's frown softens slightly, but that isn't who Scar is worried about most. The bird is now looking at him, a lot less spiked up with his mouth slightly open, his eyes searching Scar for something. He looks back to Tango, who just nods to Scar.
“Fine.”
Almost everyone lets out a breath of relief.
Grian pulls out his weapon, quickly, and grins to himself as he watches Jimmy and Tango flinch.
He hands it to Scar and gives him a weird look only he can see before his face morphs into a generally upset pout. Striding past them all, he barks “Follow,” and doesn't wait for them to catch up.
Scar looks at the weapon in his hands, remembering its hold before wedging it into his belt.
They continue with their walking, Grian at the front out of frustration over the loss of his weapons. Tango's prying eyes watch him from behind, insisting on being on the lookout for any funny behaviour.
The mood is off. Tango and Grian holding their weird rivalry and Jimmy and Scar lagging behind, looking at each other confused but not quite wanting to start small talk out of fear of getting on the other two nerves. They both opt instead to stare at the ground and savour as much of the shade as they can.
Tango is the first to break the silence.
“I don't think I trust you.”
He has his head facing forward, the anger in his voice enough to indicate he’s talking to Grian.
“I bet you’re one of them.”
“Them?” Grian almost laughs.
“Explains why you have your weapon and not us, why you're so reluctant to share why you might be here. And don't even think I forgot about your oh-so-welcoming greeting,” Tango responds with no amusement in his voice.
“What is your problem with me?”
“I think you're an Ender, a man from the inside sent down to watch us.” He says simply, pushing up his shoulders.
Grian snorts, drawing out his words. “Literally all you have against me is that I have a weapon and I’m a bit of an introvert, that's barely anything,”
“That's not all I have. What about your wings?”
The mood changes instantly, from bickering to an icy, quiet cold.
With that Scar finally looks up at the conversation, they have since all slowed down from walking to a standstill. Grian being the one to stop first as he scowls in Tango's direction.
He doesn't say a word. Tango continues with a malicious look on his face.
“And the arms, they're enchanted, right? I can basically smell it from here. You don't come across enchantments like that in the wild. And that's not even mentioning the level of skill that must have gone into those base robotics, for some random stranger– You'd have to be a part of a pretty powerful faction to get robotics like those and I definitely doubt you're a Vindicator.”
Scar watches Grian flash him a very brief glance at that name. Tango continues unaware.
“I've been around Ender technology enough to recognize its signatures, I used to work with it-”
“You don't know what you're talking about,” Grian cuts in coldly with a flat tone.
“I think I do.” Tango challenges, bearing his sharp teeth.
“Hey, hey, what about we uhh, calm down a bit?” Scar interrupts, shrugging his shoulders slightly with an open demeanour.
Tango's wild gaze jumps to him and sticks.
“I think you guys might have all come off on the wrong foot! Ahah,” Scar laughs painedly.
He stalls slightly, almost feeling the heat from Tango start to concentrate on him instead.
“I promise you, Grian is not as stabby as he seems.”
“Oh yeah?” Tango responds incredulously. “Is that why you have a stab wound on your shoulder?” He jabs his finger in the direction of Scar's shoulder, the gauze and tank top stained lightly red.
Scar shoots Grian a look, the other's eyes blown slightly more wide knowingly.
“…Unrelated circumstances,” Scar says simply.
Tango steps closer to Scar, causing him to stumble back slightly, Jimmy awkwardly drifting over his shoulder placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder briefly. “Why are you even sticking up for this guy? Didn't you say you only just met?” Tango all but growls at Scar.
“Well… We're friends.”
“No, there's something else. Something you're not telling us,”
Scar's mouth finds itself ajar, as he tries to think of what to say. Grian is painfully quiet over his shoulder.
Tango takes another step towards Scar, his mind spinning trying to figure out a believable story.
“…We made a deal!” He settles on.
“A deal?” That seems to genuinely take Tango by surprise, his imposing façade faltering.
“Yeah.”
Tango pulls a weird expression before it changes quickly as if struck by an idea. “If you made a deal maybe we could fulfil it instead, then we won't need this guy. I have the contacts, I know my loopholes. If this deal is so much more important, that you'd associate with this guy then choose what I can offer you instead. What even would it be? to you to find yourself associated with someone like him? What was it?”
“I-…” Scar hesitates and turns his gaze to where Grian is standing. The three of them have moved a considerable distance away from him during their argument, but he still stands within audible range, watching quietly.
The bird looks uncomfortable and small, he thinks. His feathers pinning and fingers flicking at his side, right where his blade would have been.
His expression looks complicated, Scar observes, like he’s expecting this situation but still feels a sense of hurt or pain. Weirdly, his gaze is fixed on the blaze rather than Scar, but he can see him fidget and glare as if he knows he’s being looked at, trying his best to avoid eye contact.
Tango coughs shuffling forward in the sand to bring Scar's attention back to him.
Scar had almost forgotten what they had asked. The deal. He wants to know what their deal was. Technically the deal wasn't even that specific, it’s just protection. That's all Grian had promised and even with a weapon, which he no longer had, in comparison to both Tango and Jimmy his usefulness might be matched.
Grian's expression makes sense now, he’s fully expecting Scar to take this deal.
Scar looks back at Grian, catching him looking at Scar before he darts his eyes away.
He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t understand why Tango is so hostile, it feels unjustified. Like he’s missing something, which is impossible. He's known Grian longer than Tango. Grian is barely a threat, yeah awkward, maybe a little impulsive and snide. But Scar doesn’t believe that justifies leaving him behind. Why is there so much bitterness between his newly acquainted companions? Why is Tango so insistent on Grian being a bad person? These questions circle around in Scar's head as he tries to think of some way he can defend Grian.
“We were going to start up a very specific business.” Scar grins.
“… What?”
“Trading goods. See, I need him because he’s got those fancy wings,” he gestures towards Grian, who’s badly concealing his bewilderment, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly, no sound escaping.
“What are you trading?”
Scar mulls it over before looking at the ground and shrugging. “….sand.”
Despite everything, Grian laughs at that. Coughing and suppressing giggles when the blazeborn shoots him a look.
“Sand?” Jimmy almost yells.
Tango taps at his chin in thought. “I- I mean I could maybe…”
Scar interrupts him. “No no no, I'm a dignified salesman. I made a deal and stayed true to my word. I'm sorry but I'll have to decline the offer,” he replies with an easy-going demeanour.
“We're now a package deal now,” he walks up to stand by Grian's side, patting his shoulder roughly.
Grian's only response is to make an awkward noise and to lean away from Scar, but not enough to actually break the space they share.
Tango looks at them both, an angry look directed at the two. Suddenly, Jimmy places a hand on his shoulder.
“I think we should just play along, even if we're suspicious of someone. I think we need all the help we can get.” The taller man says down to him, smiling slightly.
Tango takes in Jimmy's look, his frown smoothing out for a brief second before he looks back at Scar.
“Maybe I don't trust you now Scar, you've clearly also got secrets you're not telling us,”
“You're getting too caught up on secrets and mysteries, and supposed ‘them’s,” Scar puts on a wide smile, waving at the air with a nonchalant attitude.
“How about… G!” He slings his arm around Grian and pushes him in closer to the other two, while the bird sputters slightly at the new nickname.
“Promise you won't stab any of us in the back until we're free from this …game?” Scar holds him by his shoulders. Grian flinches slightly as he tries to look up at Scar only to get a face full of sun. The glare looks back at the other two, not saying a word, his ears flicking absently.
“Grian!” Scar nudges him.
“Yes, sure,” he says flatly. He crosses his arms. “I promise.”
Scar beams, looking at Tango and Jimmy. “Annddddd do you guys promise not to belittle my friend here for being a bit creepy?”
The both of them hesitate, looking up at each other, exchanging looks.
“I feel creepy is an understatement…” Tango scoffs.
“We promise,” Jimmy says at the same time.
Scar claps his hands together, Grian flinching and holding his ears at the noise. “See! Solved! We're now a team!”
No one celebrates, they all look at each other with uncomfortable hesitation, not at all meeting Scar's enthusiasm. He hops on his toes, ushering the others forward, getting them to start walking again.
“Team… yellow.” Scar looks around at his company, all pulling different forms of confused faces. “Why are you all blond?”
After several hours of walking, the sun had begun to dip over the horizon. They were all able to confirm the revelation that this planet has a pretty short day cycle.
The journey had been painfully awkward. Tango and Jimmy spent most of it talking between themselves, sometimes hushed, which Grian pretended not to notice. He’d closed off slightly despite Scar trying to start a conversation with him several times. It was a stark contrast to how they were in the morning. Scar missed their smallest interactions deeply.
At one point Tango had instructed Scar not to walk so close to Grian, mumbling that he could take his weapon back so easily with how close they were walking. Scar tried to argue, but Grian complied, closing himself off even more as he walked ahead of them.
They’re now settling in for sleep, taking turns in pairs, Tango not trusting Grian to be lookout alone.
Tango and Jimmy lay backed up into the shelter of an overhang, while Scar and Grian sit at the entrance, a considerable distance away.
“Wow- it got dark quicker. Darker than yesterday even,” Scar hums. The sky’s a deep, dark blue rather than the red of last night. Scar shivers, it’s also considerably colder.
“Yeah,” Grian murmurs.
“I bet this is really comforting for you, gloomy dim light,” Scar leans back looking towards where he assumes Grian is sitting, it’s pretty hard to tell.
“Yeah.”
Scar turns back and frowns to himself. It seems Grian is still acting distant, even with Tango and Jimmy snoring peacefully behind them.
“Hmm … wish I could see in the dark though, can't find-”
With far too much force Scar reaches forward, ramming his wrist into a rock wall. He winces. “Ow…”
“Are you okay?” Grian asks from his side, genuine concern lacing his voice.
“Yeah… just, there's a wall there.”
Scar continues to blindly stumble in the dark, searching for his jacket. Suddenly there’s a warm glow, illuminating his surroundings. Scar's mind is slow to process as small flickers of light drift into his peripheral vision, like some combination of fire embers and little lightning bugs.
He jumps backwards, his knee slipping out from under him. “Oh oh oh– what is that!?”
He looks around in shock at the small fiery creatures, before his eyes make contact with Grian who looks completely unconcerned about them. Scar then realises the glare is actually slightly amused at Scars' fright.
“Oh, are you doing that?”
“Yeah… lights to see what you're doing,” Grian mutters somewhat shyly, looking at the space between them. Scar sits back down, reaching for his jacket now that the dim glow has lit up the area.
“Oh! Thanks!” He puts the jacket on, grumbling about the discovery that it isn’t as comfortable inside out. But at least it still keeps the cold at bay so he isn’t about to complain too much.
He watches the tiny lights float in the air. They spin and twirl into themselves, dancing around one another. Scar slowly recognizes the shapes of tiny phantoms, just like the ones from yesterday but smaller and made out of sunlight.
“… Aren't these technically illusion magic?” Scar thinks, not even realising he’s saying it out loud.
He looks to Grian when he hears a shuddered breath, “…oh I guess so,” Grian wraps his arms around his knees, pressing his face into them with a soulful expression.
Unlike the tired apathy he has been carrying, this look is pained and hurt, the little illusions dimming as if in response.
Scar holds his hand out catching one between his fingers. It flutters and whirls in his palm, never quite touching his skin. Scar can swear he can feel its warmth, even though he knows he’s most likely imagining it.
“Well …I like them. They're very cute,” Scar smiles, looking at Grian as he holds one of the tiny beasts in between his hands.
Grian looks up at him, half his face obscured, and that sad look still in his eyes.
“You’re very talented,” Scar pokes at the illusion in his hand, feeling nothing as his finger phases through it. The illusion still dancing and spinning as if it was affected by the force.
“…Thanks,” Grian responds, muffled. A small smile creeps into his features at Scar's compliment.
They fall back into a still quiet state. Scar pushes the illusion back into the air with the others, leaning against the wall as he watches them dance.
“A game huh? I wonder why I'm here…” He muses. Not really expecting an answer from the glare, more filling the air.
“Tango said that we all must have wronged an Ender in our past… But I don't think I have- aside from being a Vindicator… I wonder…” He mulls over ideas in his mind, but there honestly isn't much he can think of. He's never been that involved in the field, and he barely even knows if he'd recognize an Ender if he saw one.
Naturally, Scar's gaze drifts to his company. Grian seems to be as deep in thought as him, his brows deep and ears pinned back, upset.
“Are you… okay?” Scar asks.
Grian looks up at him, his eyes following each line on Scar's face before responding. “Have you decided if I'm a good guy or bad guy yet?”
Scar tilts his head, that’s a very particular kind of question. He leans his head back, taking in the sandy walls striped with different warm shades of colour.
“I don't…” he sighs. “I think I'm starting to realise it's a lot more complex than I thought it all was.”
“Yeah,” Grian mumbles.
“What do you think you are?”
That oh-so-familiar quiet rears its head again. Scar starts to think he isn't going to answer him until, finally, he’s proven wrong.
“… I don't think I'm either, I don't think there really are good guys and bad guys, at least that it's not so black and white most of the time.”
Scar tilts his head down to look at Grian. The bird has now wrapped his tail around his feet, he's almost perfectly wound, aside from his wings that lay out behind him, tired. He's not looking at Scar, but instead at his own illusions that continue to float in the space between them.
Scar looks at them as well. “… I think you're good.”
Grian shifts uncomfortably, raising his head high enough that Scar can see the pained grin he wears.
“Haha god–” he pulls one arm out from being wrapped around his leg and pushes it hard into one side of his face. “You really need to pick better alliances, you really don't know me…”
Scar tilts his head from side to side.
“Well then tell me… do you think you're bad?” He asks simply.
Grian doesn't answer straight away. Instead, he digs his nails slightly into his scalp and looks to his side, very quietly hissing in a breath.
“… I’m trying to be a better person than I was,” he says, almost below a whisper.
“Well, that's something! Bad people don't tend to want to change,” Scar smiles reassuringly. Catching Grian’s eyes and putting on the most friendly expression he can muster.
Grian doesn't seem to buy it though, he pushes his head back into his knees. This time leaning his face away from Scar.
They both sit there, not uttering another word for a few minutes. Scar looks again at the illusions. He wonders what it was like to summon them, and then to keep concentrating on them. Grian doesn't even seem to be paying them much mind, his head buried in his metal limbs. Yet they still dance softly in the air. Maybe it was a soothing thing to conjure and maintain. Grian's feathers certainly imply he's a lot less stressed compared to how they’ve been most of the day.
Scar watches as Grian taps his long taloned fingers against his arm in boredom, the sound resonating in their small space. Metal against metal. Scar stares absently at them, Grian’s head is turned away, so he doesn't feel so bad about picking up on the smaller details he can see now he's this close.
They look slightly scratched, the deep black of the metal is scuffed in places, turning a dark grey. Up this close Scar notices how the robotics look, unfinished. Like they’re just a frame, the mechanisms, and wires open to the world, no protective shell. He can see some of the wires have tape around them, stuck haphazardly to the inside as if they had been snagged and pushed in deeper to avoid being torn again. It strikes Scar as odd. They look incomplete, yet when Grian taps his fingers they move with the fluidity of an organic limb, the small mechanisms barely even make a sound.
“Is it true what he said about enchanted robotics?” Scar asks spontaneously.
Grian lifts his head, that cold look returning once again. He pulls his arms from being wrapped around his legs into his lap, still curled up in his position.
“So, you do think I'm an Ender,” he says plainly.
“Well– I mean– You're not doing much to refute being one,” Scar tries, chuckling under his breath.
“I'm not an Ender,” Grian responds coldly, the least bit amused.
Moving uncomfortably, Scar breaths in, dropping his smile for a genuine look. “And I choose to believe you.”
Grian looks unconvinced. “But you still think I am,” he says slowly.
“… I don't think anything.” Scar argues, interrupted by a surprising chuckle.
“Well, I knew that much already.”
“I– hey!”
Grian giggles to himself, it lays bittersweet on his face when he falls off into silence.
Scar finishes what he’d been saying. “I don't like to assume things.”
With that Grian looks at Scar, really looks at him. The deep dark pools of his eyes squint and scrutinise him. Scar thinks the reflections of the illusions in his eyes look like stars.
“You liked to assume I'm a good person.”
“That's different, I have evidence,” Scar responds cheerfully.
“And what Tango stated wasn't?” He squeaks, baffled, unwinding from his ball more to throw his arms out.
“It didn't feel fair.”
“Fair–” Grian parrots back in disbelief, almost sneering to himself.
“Besides, I feel like it might be hypocritical of me to be upset that you're hiding who you are.”
Grian folds his arms back over himself looking away. “But that's different, I know what you're hiding– I was the one to even suggest it–” He says bitterly.
“Well– maybe I also have my own secrets,” Scar winks.
With a slightly more light in his voice, Grian leans his chin on his knees. “I doubt that– you like talking too much.”
Scar laughs at that, then sits forward holding a finger up as the little illusions swim around him. “You truly underestimate the power of talking, my friend. You can know anything and be given anything by talking, whereas violence enlists the opposite. It cuts you off from ever knowing more. People love talking, and I love secrets. It's an art, really.”
“Why did you become a Vindicator then? If anything they're very for violence and anti-information,” Grian mumbles, looking up at him with a raised brow.
Scar winks again, but this time taps his nose, “For secrets,” he says simply.
Grian rolls his eyes and laughs. “Ah,” He smiles, slipping slightly at the edges. He taps at his arm again. “You sort of concern me,” he huffs. “I don't get you.”
“Well I mean secrets—” Scar starts.
Grian cuts him off, waving a hand. “No no, that's not what I'm talking about…” He rests his hand back down onto his knee looking straight at Scar. “You have this inexplicable blind faith in me and I don't understand why,” his nose scrunches up. “Now, either you're really dumb or …”
Scar splutters trying to defend himself, but Grian continues, closing his eyes.
“I don't know…” He titters.
“I'm just very curious.”
“… about me?”
“Yeah! If you're not going to tell me who you are, then I guess I'll have to get to know you,” Scar grins.
“Usually when people are investigating someone, they don't straight up tell them to their face,” Grian bobs his head smirking.
“And I'm not investigating you,” Scar argues, “it's called companionship— becoming friends. You do have those don't you?” Scar tilts his head.
Grian grins up at him. “Well, you see—” Leaning forward, beckons Scar to follow his movement, before pulling back suddenly.
“That! Was obviously an investigation,” he laughs unfooled.
“Worth a try,” Scar shrugs, also leaning back.
They both become quiet. A cool breeze blows at the feathers on Grian's tail. The little light illusions move through the air slowly, unbothered by the physical realm. Grian holds his hands out, as they all drift over to him, curling up neatly in his hands.
He looks at Scar who’s watching, intrigued, and flashes his teeth in a smile, before closing his hands together, extinguishing the light. Only slight shimmers make it out past his fingers, as Scar watches him push his palms hard against each other still looking at him.
He opens his hands to reveal one creature, slightly bigger than the ones from earlier curled up in his hands. Its form is slightly more detailed, its warm light shimmering with blues and pink at the tips. It bares its tiny teeth as if yawning, and stretches out from its sleepy curl. Grian pushes it up into the air, the small creature imitating catching air in its wings and drifting off into the space in front of them.
“I uh—” Grian interrupts nervously, pulling Scars' gaze away from the illusion. “Thank you! For sticking up for me back there.” He holds a small smile, pained at the edges.
“I honestly wouldn't have held it against you if you took their offer and ran… but—” He coughs and shakes his head. “I guess what I'm saying is it was nice, very foolish… we literally have so many lies to navigate now, it’s a walking nightmare… but it was very kind of you.”
Scar beams, almost wiggling in excitement. “Hey! We're a package deal now!”
The bird rolls his eyes but keeps his smile. “Ugh.”
He pulls his legs out in front of him, his wings lifting off the dusty floor. He shakes them off from the dust before folding them behind his back neatly. He gives Scar a tired look.
Scar shuffles forward waving his hands out, not done with the conversation just yet.
“Seriously! I like you!” Grian flicks him a nervous look, making a confused noise that almost sounds like a chirp. Scar itches his head and elaborates. “I'm glad we've gotten to meet each other again. Under different circumstances.”
Grian's wide grin falters. His eyes drift to the left side of Scar's face, darting away and looking at the ground instead.
“And let’s hope we leave this one better then, aye?” His hesitant grimaces switch to a small but genuine smile.
“I owe at least that to you,” he adds.
Scar nods.
It never occurred to him that they’ll have to part ways at some point, for some reason that thought never crossed his mind, and it makes him sad. He’s a Vindicator and Grian was, probably still is, a criminal. It would be hard to meet up with someone actively imprisoned, and that’s even if Grian cares enough to risk that. Considering he said the words leave, he must have assumed they'll likely never meet again.
It makes Scar feel a little sour, he was having the most fun time here, even with the lingering death and tense energy directed at his new friend. He'd had more fun being kidnapped and disregarded on some random planet than he ever had on a shift.
Scar watches the illusion spin, he doesn't need to dwell on it too much, this adventure is starting to appear long and treacherous, he should just enjoy what he has left of it and Grian’s company.
Scar puts light into his voice, eyes still set on the glowing creature.
“Now shall we discuss at length about our sand trader backstory?”
Grian snorts.
He looks at him to watch Grian fake an obvious yawn. “Wow! I'm suddenly very tired.”
Scar smiles more genuinely this time.
“I’ll be called ‘Scorn’ and you'll be my faithful lackey ‘Giran’”
“They already know our names why-” Grian wheezes, before holding his palms up. ”You know what- nah, actually I'm asleep right now- and actively not engaging” He lays down closing his eyes.
���Best friends,” Scar continues. “Found abandoned as children together in a sandbox, oh that could be where the trading started!”
Grian rolls over away from Scar, pulling his wings pointedly over his head.
“I'M SLEEPING! Can't hear you over how loudly I'm sleeping right now-” he says slightly muffled, starting to laugh. Before he chuckles loudly to himself.
He suddenly sits up quickly and holds his hands tight over his mouth, Scar noticing the noise of someone grumbling tiredly.
He sees a shadow of Tango toss in his sleep before settling again.
Scar and Grian both exchange a look, Grian trying his hardest to hold onto a laugh before he coughs one into his hands, hushing him. Scar joins in wheezing.
They both sit, in a warm glow, laughing quietly between themselves as the night continues.
959 notes · View notes
stevebabey · 2 years ago
Text
Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.
Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.
But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.
Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.
It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.
It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.
She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.
Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.
It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.
He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.
Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.
So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.
He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.
Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.
Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—
“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.
“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.
Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”
Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.
“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”
“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”
God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.
“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”
There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.
“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.
“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.
“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”
He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.
“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.
Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.
“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.
“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.
“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.
That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.
“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.
“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”
He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.
“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.
“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”
In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.
Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”
For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”
Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.
“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”
“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.
If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.
“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”
Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.
“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.
Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.
“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.
“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.
So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.
It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.
now with a part two!
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romaritimeharbor · 8 months ago
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FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.
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— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.
— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).
— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶
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kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.
she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.
(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)
KAFKA
My coat got stained again :(
Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?
[ 1:22 PM ]
KAFKA
I saw a new movie today.
It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.
Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?
Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...
That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.
Sleep well, darling.
[ 11:34 PM ]
she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.
and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.
she does chide them, however.
"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."
if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.
she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.
however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.
they know kafka would not use it to harm them.
kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.
and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.
blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.
some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.
this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.
he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.
the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.
one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.
out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.
(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)
blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.
should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"
(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)
unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.
it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.
something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.
death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.
silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.
she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.
however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!
she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.
what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????
unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.
...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].
she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.
(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)
silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.
overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3
please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 year ago
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Any new ideas for congratulations! It's triplets? Love the idea of Jason just freaking out and trying to figure out how to build a relationship with his kids while being made fun of by his family and said kids. Especially if he goes overprotective mode because Danny has clown trauma too and gets snagged by the joker
Jason watches as Danny- his son.- impatiently taps his fingers against the table. His boy's gaze was looking at everything, taking in the big fancy Wayne Mannor with a sort of disinterest he was not expecting of a child so young.
His sister and Brother- both with alarmingly similar names- were also disinterested, but Dani was swinging her legs, and Dan was tapping his spoon and fork against the table in a fast-paced drumming.
It's strange to know he would fidget a lot as a kid but he always resorted to finger tapping. Was the tripples little habit from him? He wonders what else they inherited and what he missed out on seeing.
"I don't understand," Jasmine said, overlooking the contract Bruce's lawyers wrote up. " Why would you want custody now? It's been five years."
"I didn't know." Jason swallows past the lump in his throat as she gives him an unimpressed stare over the paper. He feels Bruce place a hand on his shoulder, and the silent support allows him to continue. "If I have, I wouldn't have ever let them grow up without me."
"Jason doesn't want full custody," Tim cuts in with a soft voice that has tricked lesser men into selling their shares. He and the rest of his family are all sitting across from Jassmin Fenton, as she is carefully lured back to the manor to discuss their next step. "He just wants to be part of his kid's lives and would happily share that with you."
"Not telling him about the kids sort of played into that," Steph mutters tactlessly. Unfortunately, her voice carries, and the woman across from them bristles.
There is a tense moment where he thinks Jassmin is about to curse them all out before she sighs and slumps in her seat. "Well, it wasn't like I had a means to contact you when I found out. You gave me a fake name."
Jason winces. "I sort of forgot I told you my name was Petter."
"Wasn't a total lie" Dani chirps "It is your middle name."
Jasmine rubs her eyes. "Look, Jason, I don't want to stop you from seeing the kids, but this is all too much right now. I'm dealing with a lot right now-"
"You are currently homeless," Damian cuts in, causing Jasmine to stop in genuine bewilderment.
"No, we're not." Dan scoffs. "You were waiting for us at our house. Waiting to ambush us."
"The house that was on the street that Poison Ivy just destroyed," The boy says, showing everyone his phone screen. There, clear as day is, their home is nothing but rumble. Jasmine's face spams, and she quickly checks her phone, paling at what she reads.
"Oh, Ancients. It's gone. It's all gone," She whispers, gripping the phone. The three kids immediately stiffen, watching their mother with strange intensity. Too aware of what this means.
They were mature for their age, and that is never a good thing.
Oh gods. Did his children live on the streets? Had Jason's carelessness hurt his children like his parents have hurt him?
"Mom?" Danny asks and that seems to snap Jasmine out of her spirl.
"Hotel!" She gasps, hands shaking as she quickly starts tapping on her phone. Jason catches a glimpse of her screen and realizes she is making a to-do list. "I have to book a hotel room. Call the insurance company, go and try to salvage whatever we can....what else?"
"You can stay here, Fenton," Damian surprisingly offers. "Until your home is rebuilt"
"We couldn't possibly-"
"Hotels are expensive, and you must focus on other more important needs. Father certainly has the space."
Jason jerks into action. "This will also give me a chance to connect with the kids!"
Jasmine bites her lip, turning to her children. Jason could appreciate that she was willing to include them in big decisions. The three nodded, so she eventually sighs.
"Alright. But only until I can get our housing settled. And I'll pay rent"
Jason would argue but he recognized the look in her eye. She would not be sway from making payments. So he agrees, tapping his fingers on the table in a specific rhythm to make sure his family agrees too.
He knows it pains Bruce- the old man already thinks of the triplets as his grandchildren and the idea of charging them to live with him will kill him.
Jason notices the way Dan's eyes zero in on his tapping and the glance around the family members. He fights a proud grin when realization bleeds into his boy's eyes. He's got a smart one, likely aware of that the tapping is a form of Morse code.
Tim did say- after pulling up all files of the four- that his children had developed insane intelligence. Maybe he should get them tested for certification geniuses.
"Hey Mr. Jason," Dani suddenly speaks up.
"Yes Darling?"
"I suggest you remove your eyes from my mom before I remove them from your face." The little girl even punches her palm in a poor intimidation attempt. His heart melts.
Then his face turns a dark red hue at Jasmine's raised brow. Unwillingly flashes of thier last time being face-to face rise in his mind. He coughs awkwardly as his sons face become as protective as their sister, Dan cracking his knuckles and Danny reaching for a knife.
"Oh yeah" Tim deadpans watching the kids reaction "No need for DNA test. Those are definitely Jason's kids"
He agrees, he just hopes he can show his children he plans on sticking around and being the father they deserve.
No one notices Cass and Steph slip away to deal with Posion Ivy. Jason kinda wants to send her a thank you gift for making it possible to have his family move into the manor.
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago
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patrol. l Joel Miller
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Summary:  you took a new person on patrol, not everything went as you expected
Warnings: +18, smut, unprotected sex (don't do that), a little bit of angst, Ellie is only mentioned, one clicker, a little bit of shooting
A/N: I wanted to write something. I had an idea. These scribbles came out. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
This patrol was a trial for him. When Tommy asked him to take the new one with him, he wasn't too happy.
"C'mon! You'll show him what and how we do. The guy has potential." Tommy said, pointing to the recently arrived man who was sitting a few tables away. "Besides, this will be an interesting change for you."
Joel grunted and finished his whiskey. Change wasn't something he liked. He was used to patrolling only with you. 
At first, you didn't talk much, exploring each other. But soon Miller realized that no matter what, you had his back. He trusted you and really enjoyed your company. And now this new guy.
"I already talked to Y/N, she seemed excited." Tommy added. "Maybe you'll have a new partner, what do you think?"
He frowned and looked at his brother. "New partner? Why? She's fine." And I really like her.
"I don't know." Tommy shrugged and finished his drink. "I thought she..."
"She's okay." he mumbled. "We'll take the new one with us, but that's all."
Tommy patted brother’s shoulder and stood up, stretching. "He'll be waiting for you at dawn."
Joel nodded and knew he was going to regret that.
Patrols were a rare opportunity to escape Jackson for a while. Joel liked the quiet life and this town certainly gave him that, but he also liked solitude. Any company of people he tolerated was okay too. You were one of the few.
You didn't try to change him, you accepted his sharp edges, and your presence soothed him. He didn't tell you this, but the time you spent in each other's company was important to him. You were important, in some strange way. 
He didn't feel like having anyone else with you, but Tommy had clearly asked him to. Besides, you had already agreed.
When he saw you at the gate at dawn, his heart felt lighter. A trickle of steam escaped your lips as you talked to a tall man, younger than Joel, who was staring at you with obvious interest.
"This is Martin." You introduced him when Joel stood next to you. Miller nodded. "So, shall we go?"
You stepped outside the walls of Jackson and headed on your usual patrol route.
The conversation going on behind his back reached his ears even though Joel was walking a few steps ahead of you. Each of your laughs brought a small smile to his lips, but at the same time he felt a pang in his heart - it wasn't because of him that you were laughing.
"So." Martin cleared his throat as you slowly entered the forest and colorful autumn trees surrounded you. "Your boyfriend doesn't mind you wandering around?"
You looked at him a bit surprised, and then your gaze fell on Joel's broad shoulders walking in front of you. "What do you mean?" you asked, adjusting your backpack.
Martin was clearly confused, scratching the back of his neck. "You know. You're an attractive woman. You should be in a safe place, and here..."
"I'm safe here." You interrupted him quickly. "And as much as I'm grateful for the nice compliment, I assure you that I'm doing great. I don't need a man telling me what to do."
"Shit! I didn't mean to sound like that, sorry." Martin tried to turn his words into a joke, but it probably didn't work out well, because you quickened your pace and caught up with Joel.
You walked in silence for a moment, but you noticed his dark eyes glancing at you every now and then.
"What?" you asked a little too nervously.
Joel just shook his head. "Nothing. He's hitting on you."
"Oh, fuck off!" you groaned, rolling your eyes. And you increased your distance from both men, trying to focus on your work.
You couldn't see the satisfied smile on Miller's lips, though.
Martin definitely liked to talk. Or maybe he was trying to mask his nervousness and the awkward atmosphere that had arisen since you had started walking ahead of them. 
The autumn sun was shining through the colorful leaves, and the dry grass crunched under your shoes as you slowly covered the next distances.
"Have you been in Jackson long?"
Joel reluctantly tore his gaze away from your figure walking a dozen or so steps ahead of them. "About a year," he replied.
"And her?" Martin nodded in your direction.
"A little longer, I guess. Why do you ask?"
"Just like that." the man muttered, but that didn't end the conversation. "You don't know if she's with someone?"
Joel stopped and frowned, looking intently at Martin. He unconsciously tightened his grip on the strap of his rifle. The man seemed to be confused again.
"Sorry, if you're with her..." he choked out, trying to smile. "She's just a hot chick, you know. We're both guys, we have our needs, right?"
Joel's jaw clenched tighter "We have work to do now." he hissed, but he was already regretting agreeing to this three-person patrol.
You disappeared from his sight for a moment, but after a few minutes he found you at the edge of the forest. You were crouching behind a dead blackberry bush, binoculars pressed to your eyes.
"Nice tête-à-tête with Martin?" you said as Joel crouched down next to you.
"I think he has a soft spot for you." he replied, looking in the same direction as you. There was an abandoned farm in front of you and it looked really promising. "Do you want to go there?"
"Yeah. Looks good. Quiet."
"Too quiet." Joel took the binoculars from you, and you took off your backpack and pulled out a thermos of coffee.
You poured some into a mug and took a few sips of the hot drink, which pleasantly warmed your insides. It was a cold day and even a walk like that couldn't warm you up enough. You handed the cup to Joel.
"I'll go there with Martin." you started after a moment of thought. "Will you cover me?"
"Always." Joel drank the coffee and handed you the cup. "Leave your backpack. You'll be faster if anything happens. Your gun?"
You pulled the gun out of the holster and reloaded. "Checked."
"Hey." his voice was warm and caring, you looked at Joel's face. "Take care of yourself. I'll be close, but you should be careful too."
"I get it." you smiled, placing your hand on his forearm and patting him lightly, then you looked over your shoulder at the approaching Martin and added in a whisper. "Just don't tell him I listened to you.” Joel smiled softly “Martin! We have work to do!"
The door opened with a loud creak that sent shivers down your spine. You gripped your gun tighter and swallowed. Martin was right behind you, you could see Joel nearby. The building was large and looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. Footsteps seemed loud on the tiled floor.
"Stay quiet." You whispered, peeking cautiously into the first room.
Everything seemed to be asleep. The furniture in the rooms was covered in a thick layer of dust. You signaled to Martin that you should split up. You entered the empty kitchen, and he climbed the wooden stairs. You managed to look through a few cabinets and storage rooms. Most of the time you found useless things, the hope for something interesting was slowly leaving you.
The unexpected noise upstairs immediately made your heart beat faster.
"Fuck! Y/N!"
Before you ran out into the hallway, a few shots were fired and there was a commotion as if someone had thrown something heavy on the floor. You ran up the stairs, but at that moment Martin ran out of one of the rooms, followed by one of the clickers. You aimed your gun, but the man ran into you, knocking the gun out of your hand and quickly running down the stairs.
"Shit! Shit!" you cursed seeing the gun fall to the ground floor and slide all the way to the wall.
Martin ran out of the building, and you stood face to face with the monster. The noise you made focused it on you. You felt for the door behind you with your hand and quickly pushed it, jumping inside and trying to slam it shut behind you. The clicker was strong, pushing harder and harder, and your shoes were sliding on the bathroom tiles.
"Fuck off!" you hissed, but from the other side you heard a terrifying scream.
The door creaked dangerously, and you noticed with fear that the hinges were very rusty, they couldn't hold out for too long. Your gaze swept across the small bathroom. There was no chance of running and getting through the window on the other side. 
You leaned your back against the door, braced one leg against the sink, but you felt that it would do no good. Another moment and the door would open, and you had nothing to defend yourself with.
Because of all the noise, the screams of the clicker and your rapid breathing, you didn't hear the first shot, but after it another one and another one rang out, and you heard those already.
The monster stopped pushing against the door, screamed once more, but then you heard a dull thud as it fell to the floor, and another shot made you sure that the beast was dead.
"Y/N?!" Joel's voice was anxious, but he pushed the door open and slid inside.
You saw the relief on his face when he saw you sitting against the wall, struggling to catch your breath. He quickly approached you, taking your face in his large, rough hands.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked.
You made a gesture somewhere between a nod and a shake of your head. "I'm fine." you replied. "That clicker... I wasn't expecting it. My gun... I lost it."
"We'll find it." he stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes looking at you with concern, but then he clenched his teeth. "That fucking Martin... I can't believe he left you here."
You put your hands on his wrists and that made him focus on you. "Leave it. The clicker surprised him too."
"He ran out of that house like his ass was on fire." Joel hissed. "If you had gone on patrol alone with him..."
"Don't do that, Joel. Don't start making up scenarios. I'm fine." the man nodded and helped you up from the floor. "We'll have to talk to Tommy. Martin should stay in Jackson for now. Patrols are obviously not for him. At least not now."
You noticed how Joel was breathing deeply, he was clearly nervous and tense. His eyes avoided looking at you. Your hand found his, you took it gently intertwining your fingers.
"Thank you." You said quietly, wonderful brown eyes finding your face. "Thank you, Joel, for being there."
"Always."
It was late when you returned to Jackson. The sun had long since set and it was getting darker. It was getting colder and colder and all you could think about was a warm bath and your bed.
"Sorry, Y/N." Martin approached you as you crossed the gate and headed down the main street of Jackson. "That clicker... God! You need to understand."
"Yeah, sure." you nodded. "That happens, right?"
"Yeah, you're right. Thanks." he rubbed his hands together and blew into them a few times to warm them up a bit. "Maybe... Maybe you'd like to have a drink with me?"
You looked towards the lit pub, but shook your head. "No, thanks. I just dream of a bath and bed."
"Maybe..."
"See you later, Martin." you quickly cut him off before he could say or suggest anything.
The man walked away, clearly disappointed. Soon you heard a familiar grunt and Joel stood by you, following Martin with his gaze to the door of the bar. "I can still shoot him from here." he mumbled, and you nudged him in the side, trying to stop yourself from laughing. "No? You're too good." he shook his head, but you saw the smile on his lips. It was adorable. "A bath and bed? Good choice."
"And you? Ellie's probably waiting for you."
"I'll grab a drink. She's probably at some friend's anyway." he shrugged. "She's not interested in an old guy."
"You're not that old!" you groaned. "Anyway, thanks for today. If it weren't for you..."
"Hey, we weren't supposed to come up with scenarios." he scolded. "Run home. You're shaking."
You smiled at him and headed towards your house. Joel watched you go, feeling a pleasant warmth inside. It had been a long day, and he could feel it in his bones.
You must have fallen asleep, because a loud knock on the door roused you from your bed. You went downstairs in the dark and reached the door. A cold wind swept over your face, but you immediately saw a silhouette in front of your door.
"Joel? What the hell?"
He was standing on the porch with his hands on his hips, breathing deeply and steam coming out of his mouth. His appearance worried you, but he didn't act like something dangerous had happened.
"Joel? Is everything okay?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
He just shook his head, ruffling his hair with his hand. His eyes were shining like he had a few too many drinks.
"I thought," he began, "Listen, Y/N. I really like you."
"I like you too..." you started, but Joel interrupted you.
"It's not like that. I just - fuck - it's more, Y/N. It's been more for a long time." You saw how hard it was for him to find the right words, but slowly it began to dawn on you what he wanted to tell you. "Today on patrol, I thought I'd kill Martin. He flirted with you first, and then he just left you. I don't want to think about what would have happened to you if I hadn't been there." 
You thought about that too. When you were alone in your house, surrounded by silence and warmth, you started to think about what had happened. If it weren't for Joel, you wouldn't be here. He always had your back. He was always there for you.
You both stared at each other, you didn't feel the cold anymore, only his words were circling in your head.
"I don't know what to say, Joel." You finally choked out "I didn't think... Damn, I didn't think that you and I, that we..."
"Okay." He nodded "I just..." He cleared his throat "I think I'll go home. I didn’t want to bother you. I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing here."
He went down a few steps, his shoulders clearly dropped, and you felt like a heavy stone fell into your stomach. You didn't want this. This wasn't how it was supposed to be!
"Joel!" You called after him and ran barefoot onto the cold porch "Stop, please. It's not what you think!"
He stopped and turned slowly towards you, his face the face of a broken man. Your heart almost broke.
"I thought you never wanted this. That being close to someone was something you wanted to avoid." you began, your throat tightening painfully "I thought being your friend was the only thing I could have. And I... I think I fell in love with you, Joel. A long time ago, and it scares the hell out of me."
In a few quick steps, he covered the distance between you. He stared at you with hope in his eyes.
"So you don't want me to leave?" he asked.
You shook your head "Never, Joel. I would never want that."
His hand slid awkwardly into your hair, you felt his warm breath on your lips. A question appeared in his dark eyes that couldn't escape his lips. So you made the first move.
When your lips met, it was like a feeling of relief that flowed over both of you. Something you had both been waiting for for a long time, but were too afraid to take the first step.
It was a reward after all those furtive glances, accidental touches of hands, words you directed at each other. As if all of this was leading you to this frozen porch and dark night where you could try to tell each other what you really felt.
His lips were warm and soft. He felt relief when you parted your lips allowing him to slip his tongue into your warm mouth. The kisses were soft and tender, slow as if you wanted to enjoy this moment. But when a muffled moan escaped your throat, Joel felt it in his loins.
He touched your lips gently, "You should come inside." He said quietly, "You're shaking."
"I'm not cold." you replied and your hand stroked his rough cheek "But if you came in with me..."
"Will you let me?" you nodded "Lead the way, sweetheart."
You took his hand and led him towards the door. For the first time in a long time Joel felt just right. You were there, by his side, only his and you didn't push him away. He didn't know what he did to deserve this.
When your hands tenderly took off his jacket and shirt, when your lips wandered around his neck, caressing him tenderly. When his hands wandered around your body, extracting all the most beautiful sounds from you. It was heaven.
But the real fulfillment came the moment he slid into you for the first time. You were so warm and tight, he already knew he was gone.
"Joel, please..." you whispered.
His cock stretched you so well, he was so deep, but you needed him to move. With his first thrust, the last of the air in your lungs escaped. He hit exactly where you needed it.
"Look at me, please." he mumbled between the next quick thrusts. "You're so beautiful, so good for me. Fuck! When I think about that asshole..."
"Don't think about him now." your hands slid into his hair, tenderly scratching his scalp. "Just you and me, that's what matters now."
Joel closed his eyes, but opened them immediately when his cock hit you so hard that you moaned "I want you to be mine. Only mine. I want everyone to see it, so that no other idiot would come up with the idea of ​​flirting with you."
"Joel!" you moaned loudly, because his next thrusts brought you closer and closer to fulfillment "Please..."
However, his words were more and more aggressive, his movements harder and harder.
He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head. "I saw how he looked at you. Like you were the best snack he'd ever seen in his life. I want him to know, sweetie. I want him to know that I own you. That this pussy is only mine."
"Fuck!"
"That you come with my name on your lips. Do you hear me?" he leaned down, kissing you hard, pushing his tongue almost down your throat.
One of his hands kneaded your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. Your body arched as your walls tightened around his cock. You moaned loudly feeling your pussy contract again, but Joel didn't stop. He was close, you could hear it in his breath, you could feel it in his strong movements.
In an instant he pulled out of you and spilled himself onto your lower abdomen, panting heavily.
"Fuck!" he hid his face in the crook of your neck.
Your hands freed themselves from his grip and you tenderly stroked his neck and shoulders. His body was so hot, you felt completely safe with him.
After a few moments Joel lifted himself up on his shoulders and looked at you. His eyes were full of different emotions, but they looked at you gently.
"Give me a few moments..." he said, trying to even out his breathing.
"Why?" you were surprised, but seeing his sly smile you quickly realized "Oh, do you have the energy for another round?"
"Soon." he leaned down and touched your lips tenderly "I've waited so long, I don't want to leave you with only one cum."
"Jesus!" you laughed "Joel, you know you don't have to prove anything, right?"
He kissed your neck, then your collarbone and shoulder as if he was thinking about something. Finally he lifted his head.
"Do you think if you come hard enough people will hear you screaming my name in the bar?"
"Fuck you!" you patted his shoulder, but that only made him smile.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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lightseoul · 29 days ago
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Congratulations!!! 🎉🎊 How about #5? 🫣
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thank you, love! tagging also @tsunderelover07; thank you for playing <3
(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)
warnings. includes themes concerning depression; negative affect in general. read at your own risk.
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5. "I'M NOT LEAVING SO GET USED TO ME." (1.3k)
ever since who-knows-when, the goal has always been simple.
pain alleviation.
at least, in theory, it sounds simple. when you think about it, it’s nothing like the seemingly insurmountable task of getting a master’s degree, neither is it as grandiose as finally finding a partner and settling down.
but for someone like you?
well, it’s the best you can muster on most if not all, days, really.
and today’s a textbook example of that.
you squint at the small text displayed on your phone screen, the blue light hurting your eyes in the darkness that’s enveloping the entirety of your studio unit. the clock reads 6:08 PM, but the lack of light cannot be credited to the sun’s waning presence—your black-out curtains have been drawn since, what… yesterday?
the past few days have gone by in a complete blur, you’ve lost track of which day it is.
you’re about to put your phone down in favor of stewing in your bed and debating whether or not you have the energy to order yourself some dinner when your phone chimes its familiar ringtone, indicating a text message.
picking it up, you recognize the id right away.
(6:09 PM) katsuki💥: Omw. Want me to pick anything up by the store?
shit.
now you know it’s a friday.
mustering the little strength you have left, you type out a reply as quickly as you can. before you can think twice about what you just wrote down, you hit send.
(6:10 PM) you: actually, can i take a rain check? i don’t think i’m the best company rn.
sighing, you finally place your device beside you, opting to stare at the off-white ceiling.
you hope bakugou actually listens to you for once and doesn’t press like he usually does. when you first met him in the same agency you both interned for three years ago, you instantly caught wind of how mind-bogglingly stubborn the guy is. but it wasn’t until you became great friends, strangely enough, that you realized the extent of his tenacity. you never thought you’d end up being best friends with the budding hero you found yourself disliking since day—
your train of thought is rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, and you decide then and there that the one thing you can do to alleviate your pain for today is to feed yourself.
you repress the urge to groan in pain as you slowly sit up and move to shimmy your feet into your slippers.
but you don’t even get to reach your kitchen when the telltale sound of your lock clicking echoes through your foyer, almost instantly followed by the door bursting wide open.
you know you should be alarmed, but there’s only one person who can and has the audacity to use your sole spare key without your explicit permission.
still, you don’t fight the frown that takes over your face as you haul yourself to the doorway, watching the man closely as he toes off his trainers and puts them neatly beside your everyday sandals, nonchalant as ever.
“i thought i told you i’m taking a rain check,” you immediately cringe at how rough your voice sounds from unuse.
bakugou stands upright, placing what looks like a bag of groceries on top of your kitchen counter before rounding you and approaching the windows like he owns the place.
“you asked me if you can,” he shoots back as he opens your curtains. “the answer is no.”
a familiar surge of anger pulses through your body. you clench your fists in an attempt to ground yourself—you know from experience that mouthing off on your best friend would do nothing to lessen your pain even if it seems oh-so appealing at the moment.
“…well, don’t expect me to host you. i actually had other plans tonight.”
“is that so?” comes his signature snarky reply, the man turning to regard you. “does your plan include starving yourself ‘til you fall asleep?”
your frown deepens. “i was just about to order dinner before you showed up.” you debate for a second whether you should say the next thing, ultimately deciding fuck it. “now i don’t have an appetite anymore.”
that was a blatant lie. you’re famished, but he doesn’t need to know that. you just needed to be alone right now.
bakugou’s face hardens at your retort. his jaw clenches ever so slightly, in a way that tells you he’s trying to be patient but is getting frustrated.
when he doesn’t say anything, you shuffle back to your bed and sit on the edge of it, ready to wait him out on his exit.
but bakugou katsuki isn’t anything if not stubborn.
“i heard from mina you called in sick again today,” comes his gruff voice.
damn your closest girl friend turned co-worker and her running mouth.
“so?”
bakugou sighs from where he’s now standing in front of and looking at you. “how many leaves do you have left?”
at the mention of it, your stomach drops in dread. an all-too-familiar pulse of anxiety also shoots through your veins. “…two.”
two sick leaves left, and it’s only motherfucking july.
silence befalls the two of you, but it’s not the comfortable kind that usually lulls you both whenever you’re alone in each other’s presence. no, this quiet is borderline irritating, and you can practically hear the gears turning in the man’s head as he processes the fact you’ve been trying to grapple with yourself for the last few weeks now.
the fact that you’re absolutely fucked.
before he can comment on your situation or say anything uselessly placating, you pipe up. “but don’t worry about me. i know you have a lot on your plate right now.”
at that, bakugou scoffs, and your features instinctively contort in annoyance at the sound.
you’re trying to be nice, for god’s sake. something that takes so much of you lately when it used to come naturally your whole life.
you purse your lips in a tight line. “look, if you’re just gonna keep on being an asshole, it’s better if you just leave.”
instead of turning a 180 and giving you your solitude, however, bakugou crouches down on his knees until you’re face to face.
you suddenly become acutely aware of the fact that you haven’t washed your face nor brushed your teeth since yesterday. despite your exasperation with the guy, you hope he doesn’t notice.
if he is noticing, though, he doesn’t mention it. instead, he reaches out and uncharacteristically gently brushes out a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.
“i’m not leaving, so get used to me.”
with that, he moves to stand up and maybe make his way to the kitchen to cook you dinner, but your reflexes work fast enough for you to grab his wrist before he's out of reach.
bakugou freezes in his tracks, eyes drifting from the grip you have on him to your face, a confused expression etched on his features.
“…just leave, kats,” you barely manage to get out, unable to meet his gaze. “i’m really not the best company right now.”
you brace yourself for another scoff over which you were absolutely going to smack him, but it doesn’t come. instead, bakugou merely coaxes his wrist from your hold before clasping your hands together.
you look up at your best friend, stunned at the rare gesture.
his face is solemn and grip firm when he replies. “don’t i get to be the judge of that?”
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thatnonameuser · 1 month ago
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Hii, I love your work!
I read that ask about Epel being a possessive yandere because he wanted to be in Savanaclaw, and then I started thinking about Rook and he being a possessive yandere as well because he actually WAS in Savanaclaw. So I wanted to ask about maybe about all the characters having yandere "Sub-traits", the traits that they have but are secondary in their approach, like Epel and Rook being primary possesives but also obsessive. If you had to give these sub-traits to the characters, what would you give them? If I may give a suggestion, maybe Jack could be possessive (primary) but also protective. If it is too much to do all the characters, the ones from Heartslabyul is enough!
I hope you can understand what I'm trying to say 😅 If sub-traits is not a idea that you like, it's okay! As I said before, I love your work 🥰
It's fine but it's probably best I explain every yandere type for everyone.
Heartslabyul, the dorm of controlling yanderes....
Riddle is a controlling yandere, all the way. Even Post OB, he still remains a stickler for the rules and old habits die hard. If you reject any of his control, then that's just you proving why he needs to do this. Why he needs to be so controlling with you? Because if he doesn't you'll be pulled around and thrown into all sorts of trouble, trouble that he needs to protect you from. So he'll give you rules, rules that he needs to keep you safe, in line. It may seem harsh, but he does it because he loves you.
Ace, your first friend in this strange world, takes pride in that title. Besides being controlling, one could say he is quite possessive of that position. He doesn't want you to belong to anyone else, you were his first, and he was the one who he going to have you in the end. But because of that, he'll be oh so desperate to keep you away from those who are his rivals.
Deuce, is a combination of protective, controlling and clingy. Deuce doesn't mean to be controlling, mostly because he doesn't think he is controlling, but he needs to protect you. And to do that, he needs to stop you from doing some things, like going outside and seeing people. He's also very clingy, and all he wants to do is be with you and only you. You calm him, and make him want to be the honor student he promised to be. Everything he does is to protect you, whether it's being controlling or clingy, he'll do what he has to.
Cater, our friendly little influencer, is a very controlling, manipulative yandere. What hides behind his eyes is oh so cruel and he was raised with a very warped perception of love, even for yanderes. Expect to see him around of so often, he'll pop out of nowhere with Spilt Card and you'll be stuck with him for hours. And don't you dare, reject his company because if you don't that pesky little secret you have will soon become very well known on campus. He's prepared to be manipulative and blackmail you into being around him. He'll have you one way or another, so play nice.
Trey, ever the gentleman, is controlling, protective and manipulative. It's all the perfect combination for a yandere, who's under the assumption that he does nothing but love you. He's aware of what he's doing, and that this will end with you being his wife. He's controlling because he'll push you to and fro from where exactly he needs you to be physically, mentally and emotionally. All this is, is just him being loving and caring. He's not hurting you, he's helping you.
Savanaclaw, the dorm of (violent) possessive yanderes....
Leona, caused by his life of being in second place, is naturally very possessive. Being stuck in second place since he was born, he wants you all to himself and only to him. You are what he calls his own. God help you if he finds out about Malleus' feelings for you. He is also an incredibly jealous yandere. With his past, having you all to himself and only to himself is something he's prepared to kill for, because he will never ever let you be with anyone that's not him..
Ruggie, bound by his animalistic nature and his own childhood of not having much, he is very possessive. It's in his instinct to devour, he's been taught to take what he wants, to take what he needs, and you are what he needs. Additionally, he's quite the violent yandere. 'Laugh with Me' being used to make his rivals die in horrifically tragic accidents and suicides. Plus, hyenas can eat almost anything. You can't notice a pattern of murders if they are no bodies to look for.
Jack is different from a lot of his fellow possessive yanderes in Savanaclaw. He's possessive and clingy. He's bound by instinct, and he can't risk losing you to anyone. If he can't claim you, he'll lose his mind. Speaking of, he's unbearably clingy. You're his mate, so he can't stop the call to touch and hold you. He doesn't want to hurt you, but sometimes his attachment is just so strong that he can't resist.
Octavinelle, the dorm of (sneaky) possessive yanderes.....
Azul, our greedy lil octomer, is very possessive, but he's also quite clingy and manipulative. Our greedy octomer doesn't just want you, he wants to have you, to own you, to control you. With his contracts that will bind you hopelessly to him for the rest of both your lives, he'll control your life and existence down to the letter. The letters on the contract that is. But he's also quite clingy. With his childhood insecurities, he needs you to be the glue that holds him together. Even if you don't want to, you never had a say.
Jade, the evil twin, is an unfortunate mixture of three different yanderes, each as dangerous as the next. Sadistic, Possessive, and Manipulative. Jade's sadism is boundless, he adores watching you distressed and in pain and the idea of you clinging to him in distress as he tortures you with more mental and physical abuse. He's deeply possessive, he doesn't want to share you with anyone. Hell, he'd kill Floyd before sharing you with anyone. Finally, Jade is a manipulative son of a bitch, the idea of you being completely dependent on him drives him crazy with sick delight.
Floyd, the good twin, is an equally unfortunate mix of three. Clingy, Violent and Possessive. Floyd is constantly touch starved, he'll almost always have his hands on you. Sure, he'll be threatening to crush your internal organs with how tight he'll squeeze you but fear not, he won't kill you. He is also very violent, you could look at someone too long, and he'll tear their eyes out. You yawn and someone does too, they'll have their jaws completely and irreparably removed from their head. Speaking of, he's horrifyingly possessive. Like Jade's, he's pro-no-sharing. Mostly because Jade will break your mind and then you'll be boring if he shares with him. Also he really hates the idea of you spending time with anyone that's not him. So don't or someone will likely be squeezed to death. Just kidding, they'll suffer far worse than that.
Scarabia, the dorm of manipulative yanderes....
Kalim is a delusional yandere with a few manipulative tendencies. As mentioned before Kalim sees you as his one true love. In his life, you're greater than the sun, moon and all the stars in the sky combined. And he's under the belief that you love him to, even when you tell him otherwise right to his face. As for his manipulative tendencies, he'll gift you so many, many expensive gifts. It smothers you, but you'll never say no, and he uses that to his advantage. Even if he's kind, just remember you're at a villain school.
Jamil is a textbook manipulative. Even without his UM, he is very intelligent and equally methodical. He'll make you hopelessly dependent on him, and at the same time use you as a tool to isolate yourself. Jamil's pride makes him very selfish so the thought of having you 'pick' him, especially over Kalim, is exactly what he wants. It's what he craves.
Pomefiore, the dorm of obsessive yanderes....
Vil, obsessed with beauty and perfection, is an utterly obsessive yandere. Whether you're the shiniest apple or the dirtiest potato, you are unimaginably perfect in his eyes. The pull of desire he feels from you drives him crazy constantly. If he could look at you and only you the rest of his life, he would happily accept. But that's not just it, he's also a very possessive and jealous yandere. If you are perfect in his eyes, he needs to be nothing less than perfect in your eyes, whatever unhealthy beauty practices he has available, he will use until he's utterly flawless. And if you give your attention to someone else, they'll be poisoned and cursed until there's only him for you to look at. Seven help Neige if Vil finds out that he is a yandere for you.
Rook is a trifecta of three yandere types, obsessive, possessive and devoted. He's so fixated on you that he needs to know every single thing about you. Your wants, your fears, your dreams, everything. But that's not enough. He needs to have you. The hunter needs to capture his prey. He wants to have you for himself, and he'll hunt you to the end of time if he needs to. His devotion for you goes even farther than his devotion for Vil and Neige, you're like a goddess on earth and he isn't worthy to even be near you. But, like he'll tear you from the heavens himself, if he has to. Because he has to have you.
Epel, opposite to his adorable demeanour, he is a very obsessive, possessive and violent. When it comes to you, he's practically feral. Like an animal wrapped in human skin. He's obsessed with having you, keeping you away from all who could take you away. He'll fight to the death if he has to, to have all to himself. He might not look it at first glance, but he'll rip someone to shreds with his teeth if he needs to. Regarding his obsession with you, you are the only thing that can calm him, like the beauty that tames the silent beast inside him.
Ignihyde, the dorm of stalker yanderes....
Idia, like his ancestor, wants to watch from afar. A stalker at heart, he wants to observe you first, wants to learn and collect as much as he can. He'll record thousands of hours of footage of you. Of you sleeping, of you showering, of you reading, et cetera, et cetera. He'll delude himself into thinking that you love him from the accidental glances you give the cameras, or the little things you do that make his heart flutter and his hair turn pink. He's also dangerously clingy, his attachment issues run so very deep. When it's time to meet in person, he'll be so touchy, and cuddly. Just so desperate to love you and everything about you.
Ortho(platonic), is so protective of his brother's love and he loves you too like a sister. All he wants to do is bring you together and watch you and his brother live happily ever after. As a protective platonic yandere, he'll safeguard his brother's future. He's prepared to dox his brother's rivals, leak your dark secrets to the dark web for thousands to see and more. He'll push you to Idia, by mentioning how great his brother is about helping you with the hidden cameras in your room, the leakage of your dark secrets to the dark web. Or maybe he'll mention about the hobbies you and Idia 'share' (by that he means Idia researched the hell out of it because he's obsessed with you) He'll be the perfect wingman.
Diasomnia, the dorm of enigma yanderes.....
Malleus, or Tsunotaro, is a mix of devoted, clingy and delusional. You, his first friend, his child of man, you've placed yourself deep in his heart, and he can't bear for you to be ripped out. You aren't just the sweet human he met on his nightly walks, you were the one he wanted as his wife, his queen, so that he may spoil you for the rest of your lives. But as the treasure on the top of his hoard, he will never part from you. Ever. If he needs to chain you there, he will. His abandonment issues make him want to keep you in this life and the next, so he'll never let you leave. But if you have objections, Malleus can't hear them. He believes that you're just a little frightened off the role that lies ahead, not that you don't love him. So enjoy the heavy crown you'll soon wear, it'll be hard but Malleus' love will help you carry it.
Lilia(platonic), once the general was a very protective yandere in his war days. That extends to his kids, but it is yet to extend itself to you. Because of that, expect to fall victim to the general's sadism. You'll be exposed to horrific psychological abuse, until you finally give up and accept his kids' advances. They're even working with him too, ensuring that they're able to swoop in to pick up the pieces after you've been shattered. He'll play the bad guy for their benefit, and in exchange all he asks is a cottage or castle full of grandbabies for him to spoil. (PS. Don't think he'll be any nicer to you after that)
Silver, the knight in shining silver armour, sees you as his princess, the damsel he's met to save. He's a yandere blinded by his delusion, and because of that is very protective of you. He loves you, he adores you. Lilia had told him when he was old enough that he could lose his darling if he failed to protect them when it matters most. Because of that Silver will stop at nothing to protect you, even if it means isolating you, even if it means killing those you love.
Sebek, the knight in dark black armour, is already an obsessive. Look how he treats Malleus and multiply that by a thousand. And he can't help be obsessed with you. But that obsession comes with him being very protective of you. In fact overprotective is the better way of putting it. He'll refuse to let you out of his sight, or if he has to lock you somewhere no one will find you if he needs to.
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kyokutsu-sama · 9 months ago
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_____________________________
The captain's sword
A/n: I've been writing about this man on ao3, I've already posted two works there and I'll post this one there later. This captain makes me feel things🤭(Seriously bro, there's something about men with tough personalities that attracts me...)
Tw: NSFW content
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You wondered how you had managed to get to the base without falling along the way due to exhaustion. Your mana was extinct as was your energy, all you wanted to do at that moment was pass out on your soft mattress and sleep for the whole week but it seems that you had other plans before going to sleep.
You saw Yami at the counter and wanted to kill him after he sent you on a mission that almost cost you your life.
"There you are, you scoundrel !" You said, approaching the counter. "You were drinking and smoking while I was there dying, weren't you?"
"Who do you think you're talking to?" He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and an unfriendly expression on his face, as if he wanted to intimidate you but you were too mad to be afraid
"With my stupid captain, Yami Sukehiro" You said, sitting next to him and he looked at you for a long moment in silence, the cigarette smoke leaving his lips after he took a long sigh. He undoubtedly liked your defiant air when you dared to speak like that, strong women were his type and he was definitely going to play that game.
"Your tongue is very sharp tonight, I see" He slightly curved his lips upwards
"I thought you liked tough girls with sharp tongues. What's the problem now? Can't you handle them?" You teased and he closed his eyes with another long sigh
"Here, drink" He said, extending the large mug of beer to you
"You didn’t answer my question"
"Drink" He insisted and since you knew he was stubborn, you decided to do what he said
There was no one else there, you thought it was strange since they would also like to be there drinking or breaking everything but maybe they were already asleep. It was late and you were supposed to be sleeping too but since your dear captain was there, you weren't just going to turn your back on him. He enjoyed your company even if you were mad at him and you also couldn't ignore him when he was offering you drinks and company too.
Anyone who didn't know him at that moment would think he was a calm person, with half-closed eyes, a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, some strands of his black hair falling over his face making him even more attractive and an expressionless face. However, he was not someone to mess with and everyone there knew it. You also knew and that's why you pushed his buttons until he lost his patience, which was little and led him to do crazy things. He also did the same to you, teasing you every day until you went crazy. Deep down you knew he has a tender heart when it comes to you, even if he teases you twenty-four hours, even if he gives you more difficult training because he believes in you and your abilities and that you can surpass your limits, even though he was a stubborn and short-tempered at times, you loved him with all his flaws. You knew that inside his little heart was you and he himself admitted that to you a lot of times.
You placed the empty mug on the table and looked at him, who still seemed focused on a random corner of the room.
"I finished drinking, are you going to answer me now?" You said, looking at him
"Drink another one"He replied, taking a drag on his cigarette, still without looking at you
"Yami, are you testing my patience ?" You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly to the side
"You're the one testing my patience, princess. Did the mission go well or do I need to go in there and take out the other guy for you?”
"No, I already did what had to be done, I even broke the sword you gave me last week"
"You broke what?" He looked at you as you placed the remaining part of the sword on the table. "Honey, I hadn't even finished paying, in fact, I didn't even pay mine, let alone yours"
“Well, Yami, it looks like you're going to have to start saving more money instead of betting everything on gambling like you always do, even with your clothes” You looked away in the last words, remembering when he came back from long nights completely naked after having bet them on gambling
“So what? My nudity is nothing new to others... and not to you either" He gave a little smile and you felt a slight blush on your cheeks."Now, regarding the sword, leave it to me. I'll see if I can find some money to pay this shit for the next hundred years"
"And see if the next one is of quality"
"It's not about quality when you don't know how to wield it"
"What did you say, Yami?" You looked at him with a threatening look
"Nothing" He said, raising hands in a kind of surrender
"See? You don't even have the balls to repeat what you said to my face, it just proves that you can't handle a strong woman like me" You teased and got up from the bench but he grabbed your arm turning you towards him
"Princess, you're making me lose my mind with all that tough personality. Come here" He picked you up and put you on his shoulder so easily and quickly that you make you scream at his sudden movement
"Yami, what are you doin--" He slapped your butt as he carried you to his room."Are you punishing me now?”
“And it’s just the beginning, baby" He laughed and entered the bedroom
He threw you on the bed and closed the door, you looked at him as he put out his cigarette and looked you up and down, wondering where he would start.
"Why are you looking at me? I thought you were a man of action"
"Be quiet brat, I'm concentrating" He said as he took off his tattered black cape and shirt.
"Brat? What happened to ‘princess’?"
"They will evolve for worse if you keep talking" He said climbing onto the bed and holding your face in his hand
Yes, it would, you knew it would. The beautiful nicknames he gave in the beginning would be the future dirty talk. It was only making the heat in the room rise as well as the heat building up between your thighs. However, he also had to be punished for the mission he had given you and you would take care of it.
"What’s wrong? Why aren't you laughing now?" He asked with a low voice close to your face and you blushed
He would tease you until the end, until you couldn't handle it anymore, take you to the limits and even beyond that. That was his type.
He pushed you onto the mattress and got on top of you, removing your clothes and you helped him, his strong and hurried hands roaming your body. He leaned towards you and kissed your lips, taking your breath away with heat and strength, you hugged him close to you, taking your hands to run down his back. His hand slid between your thighs and stroked the wetness that increased the more he touched you, he pulled your lip between his teeth before settling on your neck and sucking the skin there. You could already feel your sweaty skin and slight goosebumps, you whimpered when he placed his fingers in you and you tight them inside you. The ability that man had to make you forget that you were mad at him moments ago was impressive. You arched your back and both bodies touched, there was no distance between the two and you were delirious with so much proximity. You put a hand to the back of his head, he was still marking your skin and tasting every bit of it.
The fingers moving in and out and scissoring, opening more space inside you as you writhed and moaned beneath his huge body covering yours. His thumb brushing against the sensitive bud and sending shivers throughout your body, making your legs tremble. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure just at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck. You were close but you held yourself back so you didn't have to come before you could take control of the situation and play with him a little too. You grabbed his forearm and removed his fingers from you and turned him around, sitting on top of him, resting your hands on his chest while he looked at you, intrigued that you had changed roles.
"You're feeling very confident today" He joked, placing his hands on your waist
"My turn to punish you for giving me such a troublesome mission today" You said taking the belt off his pants to tie his wrists above his head, to prevent him from touching you
"You don't think this will last long, do you?" He chuckled, looking at you and you smiled
"No, but I just need some time for what I'm going to do. Don't worry dear, I'll be gentle with you" You leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips
You knew that he would go along with it because deep down he liked having you on top showing your strength, that turned him on.
You held the waistband of his pants and removed them. You had the beautiful vision of him all naked and with his arms tied above his head and that only made things heat up more. You brought a hand to his dick, stroking it while you looked at him and saw his hands start to fight to free himself, he just wanted you to continue what you were doing because it felt too good.
You spat into the palm of your hand to make back and forth movements as you felt your insides tighten with emptiness and the desire to take him right there but you liked the idea of just watching him suffer a little. Not that he was suffering from your touch but rather the fact that he wanted to grab your hips and bury himself inside you.
"What's wrong, Yami? I can't see your smile right now" You teased, using his words and he bit his lip, seeing the way you were teasing him
"You're a teaser"He said with a hoarse voice and his eyes half-open
Your hand moved faster around him, his hands fought to free themselves again, you weren't sure if he was closer to coming or letting go from the belt and making you pay for it.
He was right when he said that it wouldn't last long, and besides, he wouldn't need to try very hard to get out of that knot.
And it was when you least expected it that one of his hands was already on your wrist, preventing you from doing anything else, you looked at him after being taken by surprise.
He turned you around and placed you under him on the mattress and pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, looking at your panting and flushed face.
It seems like you would have to leave your revenge for another day.
"You found a way to surpass your limits again, did you?" You smiled and he chuckled
"You make me surpass them"
"Good to kno---" You barely finished your sentence and he turned your back to him and lifted your hips up. All that desire of his was making him impatient and with little time for conversation.
"You talk too much" His hand rested on the red skin after slapping your butt. "Just watch me surpass my limits again"
He was quick to place himself inside you and fill your insides to the deepest point, your fingers grabbed the sheets in front of you and your moans were muffled against it.
“You're so tight right now, Y/n”He sighed heavily."Don't tell me you were thinking about me while you were there fighting?"
He placed one hand on the back of your head, keeping your head against the mattress and the other hand on the headboard as he sped up his thrusts. You could barely breathe at that moment, even if you wanted to lean your head back, his strong hand was pressing you and the only thing you could do was feel your legs tremble and whimper every time his body collided against yours. The others would probably hear all those dirty sounds coming from the room but you wouldn't believe that any of them would be stupid enough to complain about it out loud, unless they wanted to move up the date of their death. He removed one hand from the back of your neck and brought it to your clit to make circular movements that made you tighten more and more around him. You felt the butterflies in your stomach intensifying when you came, your legs weakened and your fingers were still holding the sheets with some strength as he filled you with his cum, until you felt it running down your thighs. He withdrew from you and pulled your body back so that you were leaning against his chest, he bent down and kissed your neck while his arms hugged your body from behind making you feel protected from everything.
He could have all that size and be a brute, but he always seemed so clingy and careful with you. It was as if you changed his personality for something different, not very different but at least it softened this man's little heart a little.
"I'm sorry Y/n, I won't let you go on a mission like that alone again." He said kissing the top of your head and tightening his arms around you
"And I think I should also apologize for breaking the sword.”
"Don't worry about it, I'll find another one. Even if it means not seeing my paycheck for months or probably years." He said, laughing
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cowboybeepboop · 3 months ago
Note
I'm not too sure if you're still taking requests but I was wondering if you can do a Scott from twisters and a super shy reader one? Like it could be Scott is her boss or something and he notices that she's super timid and shy and takes care of her. It could be fluff or smut but mostly leaning towards smut lol
I absolutely love all your work and you are such a talented writer!
Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader
Genre: Romantic smut with fluff at the end
Word count: 5 k
Warnings: a little bit of roughness, p in v sex, fingering, semi public sex
a/n: Omg, I’m actually so excited you requested this bc I’ve been thinking of writing something similar for a bit. I’m always happy to take requests as well 😝 Also thank you so much! I hope this lives up to what you were expecting <3
You’ve been working at a small publishing company for the past couple months. It’s all been great, aside from the *strange* interest your boss Mr. Miller has taken in you. He seems to thrive on pushing your boundaries and putting you in situations that you would usually try and avoid. But at least he doesn’t yell at you or get on your ass about every small detail like he does with the rest of his crew.
The office buzzed with the usual cacophony of clicking keyboards and hushed conversations, but your desk remained a bubble of relative calm. That was, until James, the office chatterbox, perched himself on the edge of your table, his elbow propping up a paperback novel and his legs swinging carelessly.
He had a way of invading personal spaces without so much as a knock. "Hey, could you just...?" he began, dangling a manuscript in the air expectantly. It was the third time that week he'd asked you to cover for him. His eyes sparkled with the hope that you’d once again take the bait.
Your heart sank, knowing you couldn't refuse him without causing a scene or damaging the precarious office dynamics. But before you could utter a word, Mr. Miller's sharp voice sliced through the air like a hot knife through butter. "James," he barked, his stern gaze sweeping over the room and landing on the manuscript in James' hand, "this is the third time I've caught you offloading your work. Do it yourself or face the consequences."
The room fell silent, and James, caught in the act, had the decency to look sheepish. He scurried away, muttering something about deadlines and coffee. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of gratitude towards Mr. Miller, despite his mysterious intentions.
Your eyes brightened as you smiled up at your boss, giving him a silent “thank you”. Mr. Miller's gruff expression did little to hide the smug satisfaction that briefly flashed across his face before he turned away, the tension in the room dissipating as swiftly as it had appeared.
He marched back to his office, the heavy door swinging shut behind him with a decisive thud. You watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and curiosity about the enigmatic man who had just come to your aid. The silence was broken by the resumption of whispers and the shuffling of papers, but your thoughts remained fixed on the peculiar exchange.
You chew on the cap of your pen as your mind continues to wander to your boss. The tall and buff man who never lets a single hair get out of place. You couldn't deny the undeniable attraction you felt towards Mr. Miller, despite his brusque demeanor. His piercing blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and the way his tailored suits hugged his broad shoulders had not gone unnoticed by the female staff, or anyone with a pulse for that matter.
Yet, his rough around the edges personality kept everyone at bay, except for you. The way he'd occasionally drop a curse word in the middle of a meeting or roll up his sleeves to reveal strong muscles was oddly charming. You found yourself eager to learn more about the man behind the stern facade, hoping that there was a softer, more approachable side to him that the office hadn't yet discovered.
As the lunch hour begins, Mr. Miller steps out of his office, his gaze sweeping over the bustling office. He spots you, diligently working at your desk, and saunters over. He leans against your cubicle, arms crossed, emanating a mix of authority and nonchalance. His eyes lock onto yours, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“So,” he drawls, his gruff voice a contrast to the ambient office chatter, “busy day, huh?” Your gaze meets his.
“Yeah, I guess so.” You give him a soft smile before looking back at your computer screen, trying to ignore the way your heart rate picks up in his presence.
“Uh-huh.” He lets out a low, contemplative hum, his eyes studying you, making you feel almost exposed. His gaze lingers a beat longer than necessary before he glances away.
“You look... stressed,” he comments, his tone casual but his observation astute. He leans in just a bit closer than what would be considered appropriate for coworkers.
You gulp as you lean back in your seat, trying to create distance between the two of you. “I’m not stressed.” Your pitch becomes slightly higher as a soft flush paints your cheeks.
Mr. Miller notices your shift backwards and the subtle rise in your voice, his smirk growing as he pushes himself off the cubicle wall and stands tall over you. He towers over your sitting form, the intensity in his gaze increasing.
“You sure about that, sweetheart?” he drawls, the last word rolling off his tongue in that way that always makes your heart skip a beat.
“Uh, Mr. Miller?” Your voice cracks a little as you shoot out of your chair. “I’ve got to go grab some things from the storage room.” you mumble as you slide past him.
Scott watches as you dart out of your seat, his smirk still firmly in place. He allows you to brush past him, his eyes following your every step. He waits a beat, letting you gain a small lead, before he slowly starts to follow you, his footsteps nearly silent. His eyes never leave your form as he continues to walk a few feet behind, his hands shoved into his pockets.
You open the door to the storage closet, taking a deep breath as you walk inside. An annoyed sigh leaves your lips as you notice the stapler you need is on the top shelf. You stand on your tippy toes, which doesn’t get you close enough so you begin to jump, not noticing your boss standing against the closed door.
Mr. Miller stays back, silently leaning against the door as he watches you attempt to reach the stapler on the top shelf. A hint of amusement dances in his eyes and a slight smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. He remains quiet, a silent observer of your struggle.
He lets you jump for a few moments, enjoying the way your body rises up and down, before he finally makes a sound. “Need some help there, sweetheart?”
“Oh shit!” Your eyes widen as you turn around, startled by his voice. He chuckles, the sound low and rough, as you inadvertently collide with his chest. He leans down, reaching easily over you and plucks the stapler from the top shelf. His other hand lands on your hip to steady you, his grip firm but not unwelcome.
“You’re a bit jumpy, aren’t you?” he teases, his voice a low rumble. He looks down at you, his eyes glinting with amusement.
You clear your throat as your eyes fall to the floor. “I didn’t expect you to be in here,” you fix your skirt as you shift awkwardly.
Mr. Miller takes a step closer, closing the distance between the two of you, effectively trapping you between his body and the wall. He looks down at you, his eyes darkened with something you can’t quite place.
“You didn’t expect someone to walk into the storage closet?” he asks, his smirk turning into a small, sly smile. He raises the stapler in his hand, still grasping it just above your head, his forearm mere inches from your face.
“Well,” you look up at him, chewing on your bottom lip. “Everyone else went to lunch, so I didn’t expect anyone to come in…” your voice trails off as you glance past him at the closed door.
Mr. Miller notices your gaze flicker to the door, his smirk widening as he leans closer, his free hand bracing against the wall beside you, effectively caging you in.
“So you thought you’d be all alone in here, did you?” he drawls, his voice lower and more intimate, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils. He shifts his foot, his legs now bracket yours, trapping you even more effectively.
“Mr. Miller?” You press your hand against his chest, pushing his body slightly. A dark blush paints your skin as you gaze up at him.
Scott feels your hand push against his chest, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he leans in closer, his body practically flush against yours. His eyes roam over you, taking in the way the blush colors your skin.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he responds, his voice a deep rumble. His hand on the wall moves to your waist, his fingers splaying out across the thin material of your blouse.
“What are.. are you doing?” You gulp as he pulls you closer to him. Scott lets out a low chuckle, his smirk still firmly in place. He continues to press you against the wall, his body almost enveloping you completely.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he drawls, his hand on your waist shifting slightly, his thumb starting to trace small, infuriating patterns across your hip bone.
You lean into his chest with a soft gasp at his touch. “This isn’t very, uh, professional…” you groan out as his hands trail over your skin.
Scott lets out another deep chuckle, his touch growing more purposeful as his hand continues its maddening journey across your skin. He can feel your body responding to his touch, your gasp of pleasure feeding his growing desire.
“Professional…” he echoes, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “It’s lunch break, sweetheart. There’s no one here but you and me.” He leans closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. “And I don’t feel like being professional right now.”
Scott’s smirk turns into a full-fledged smile as he reads the clear invitation in your eyes. Before you can fully process his intentions, he pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands sliding your skirt up as he does so. Your body responds instinctively, your arms wrapping around his neck as his lips claim yours.
His touch is surprisingly gentle, yet firm, leaving no room for doubt or denial. You can feel the heat from his palms as they graze the bare skin of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine. His kiss is demanding but not aggressive, a silent declaration of his desire that you find yourself unable to resist.
The sound of your breath mingling with his fills the small space as your hearts race in tandem, the line between professionalism and passion blurring like the ink on a freshly edited manuscript.
Mr. Miller's hand slides down further, slipping under the hem of your skirt and brushing against the silk of your panties. His touch sends a jolt of excitement through your body, making you squirm against the wall. He chuckles against your lips, feeling your wetness through the thin fabric.
His fingers trace the edge of your panties, teasing the sensitive skin before hooking them and sliding them down your thighs. His palm flattens against your bare mound, the heat of his hand sending a rush of pleasure through your core. You gasp into his mouth as he massages you, his thumb circling your clit with a masterful pressure that leaves you trembling and desperate for more.
The storage room suddenly feels much smaller as your world narrows to the feel of his body pressing against yours and the sensations he's coaxing from your body. Your thighs instinctively squeeze around his arm as he expertly works his thumb against your clit, his movements growing more insistent and deliberate.
His other hand moves to the small of your back, pressing you harder against the wall, his body pinning yours in place as his kiss deepens. His tongue delves into your mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his thumb, and you can't help but moan softly. The pressure builds within you, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you feel the beginnings of an orgasm coil in your belly.
Your hands grasp his shoulders, nails digging in as you try to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensations. The room is filled with the muffled sounds of your moans and his groans, the only music to the illicit dance of your bodies. His fingers continue to explore, slipping one inside of you, stretching and filling you with a delicious fullness that makes your knees weak.
Your hips buck against his hand, desperately seeking more friction as he whispers dirty words into your ear, his breath hot and heavy. The walls seem to close in around you, and all you can focus on is the exquisite torment he's inflicting, the promise of a climax that seems just out of reach.
You pull away from the kiss, moaning out his name. “Scott..” you bury your face in his neck. Mr. Miller's thumb continues its relentless circles around your clit, his hand curling into a fist as he feels your wetness soaking his fingers. His other hand squeezes your ass, pulling you even closer to his growing erection, which presses against your stomach.
He seems to enjoy the way you're responding to him, the way your body moves with his touch. His teeth graze your neck, eliciting a shiver that runs down your spine, as he whispers in your ear, "You're so fucking wet for me, aren't you?" His voice is thick with lust, his breath warm and heavy against your skin.
Your moans become louder, muffled by his mouth, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. The storage room feels like it's spinning around you, your body a taut bowstring ready to snap. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, Mr. Miller's thumb presses down hard on your clit, and you shatter in his arms, your orgasm ripping through you like a wildfire, leaving you boneless and panting against the wall.
As the intensity of your climax subsides, Scott’s kisses turn tender, pressing against your cheeks and neck as he supports your trembling body. He gently sets you on your feet, his strong arms keeping you upright as your legs wobble like jelly.
With a satisfied smirk, he withdraws his hand from beneath your skirt and brings it to his mouth, licking his fingers clean with a wolfish gaze that sends another wave of heat through your core. His eyes never leave yours as he tastes you, savoring the sweetness of your arousal.
The intimacy of the moment is almost overwhelming, leaving you breathless and utterly exposed in the dingy office storage closet. You stand there, panting and flushed, unable to look away from the raw hunger in his gaze. The air around you feels thick with unspoken desire, the silence only broken by the distant hum of the office outside the door, a stark contrast to the passionate scene playing out in the shadowy confines of the room.
Your body feels alive, every nerve ending still singing from his touch, and your mind is racing with the implications of what just happened between you. His fingers move to pull the hem of your skirt down, fixing your clothes as he pulls away from you.
He runs a hand through his tousled hair, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips as his eyes roam over your disheveled form. The sight of you, leaning against the wall, looking utterly spent, fuels his inner dominance, his primal desire to possess and claim.
He takes a step back, putting some distance between you, but his gaze remains fixed on you like a predator studying its prey. He runs a hand along his jaw. "You taste even sweeter than I imagined," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.
Your skin turns a deep red as you cover your face in embarrassment. “We should probably go back to work now…” You mutter while trying to change the subject.
Scott lets out a throaty chuckle at your sudden change of topic, his gaze still locked onto every move you make. He can tell you’re feeling embarrassed, flustered by what just took place between you, and he can’t help but find it amusing and adorable.
He takes another step back and leans against the door, arms crossed over his chest now. "That’s the last thing on my mind right now," he responds with a smirk, his eyes raking over your body.
Your hand grasps his arm as you push him away gently. “Mr. Miller,” you bite your lip, “We *should* go get back to work before…” your voice trails off.
Scott’s smirk deepens as you push him gently, his eyes darkening with a mixture of desire and dominance. He doesn’t budge, his body tense and unyielding under your touch. His arms remain crossed over his chest, his muscles corded and taut.
"Before what, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his throat. He takes a step closer, invading your personal space again. "You want to act like nothing just happened in here?“
“No. That’s not what I meant,” your tone is soft as you gaze up at him. “But, we have to go back to work before anyone notices..”
Scott’s smirk softens, his expression gentling a bit as you gaze up at him. He can see the genuine concern in your eyes, and he understands the logical reason behind your words. It’s true that you can’t stay in this storage closet forever, not without the risk of someone discovering what just happened.
He uncrosses his arms and reaches out, taking your chin gently between his fingers. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing a lazy path along your lower lip. “We do need to go back eventually.”
Standing on your tippy toes you pull him into a gentle kiss. Your hand trailing down his muscular chest. Scott melts into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against his body. He returns the kiss with equal gentle passion, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, seeking entrance.
His hands move over your body, pulling you even closer, his muscles tense and taut beneath your touch, as if he’s holding himself back from losing control.
When the kiss breaks, he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tries to regain his bearings. "We should really go back, sweetheart."
“Mhm..” you murmur, “We really should.” You step away with a sigh not willing to leave his embrace. Scott lets out a small huff of laughter at your reluctance to leave.
He understands the feeling, the desire to remain in this intimate bubble you’ve created together, away from the outside world. But he knows just as well as you do that it’s inevitable, you have to go back to work eventually.
"Come on," he says, his voice gruff but gentle. "Let’s get out of here, before we get ourselves into more trouble.” You follow close behind him groaning when you sit back down at your desk, your eyes following him as he returns to his office.
Scott returns to his office, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. He can feel your eyes on him as he walks away, and it takes everything in him to resist the urge to turn around and pull you back into that small storage closet.
He takes a seat behind his desk and lets out a deep breath, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of him, but his mind keeps wandering back to the taste of you and the feel of your body against his.
The rest of the work day drones on endlessly, your eyes constantly flicking between your boss and the clock. You spin in your chair while chewing on your pen again. As the day comes to an end, James finds his way back to your desk this time with a sweet smile as he grabs the back of your chair, turning you to face him.
James approaches your desk, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He gently grabs the back of your chair, spinning it around to face him.
"Hey there," he greets, his smile widening at the sight of you. "Got any plans for tonight?" You gaze up at him with an awkward smile.
“Uh, actually I need to stay late tonight..” you turn your attention back to your computer, fumbling with a few scattered papers on your desk.
James tilts his head as he watches you mess with the papers on your desk, a small frown creasing his forehead.
"Stay late?" he repeats, taking a small step closer to your desk. "Why do you need to stay late tonight?"
Just as you're trying to come up with a response to James' question, Scott's deep voice calls out from his office.
"Ms. Y/N, can I see you in here for a moment?" he calls out, sounding casual but firm. You hurry towards Scott's office, your heart pounding in your chest as you step through the door, Scott is seated behind his desk, papers spread out before him, but his eyes are fixed on you as you enter.
"Close the door," he instructs, his voice low and commanding. The door shuts with a soft click, enclosing you and Scott in the quiet solitude of his office. He watches you move towards him, his gaze intently fixed on you.
"Come here," he commands, beckoning you forward with a crook of his finger. You bite down on your lip as you walk to him, sitting on the desk in front of him.
As you perch yourself on the desk in front of him, Scott's hands come to rest on your thighs, his palms hot even through the fabric of your skirt. He leans back in his chair, his gaze roaming over your body, taking in every detail.
"We need to talk," he murmurs, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thighs. Your feet hook into the arms of his chair as you pull him closer to you, your arms wrapping around his neck.
“Mhm, we need to talk.” You look at him with eyes full of desire. Scott's lips curl into a smirk as you pull him closer, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your waist. He lets you pull him in, his chair rolling easily as he comes to a stop right in between your legs.
Scott chuckles lowly at your brazen move, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher up your legs until they're resting on your hips.
He looks up at you with a dark, smoldering gaze, his hands squeezing your hips tightly. "Is this how we talk now, sweetheart?"
You pull him into a passionate kiss, Scott grins against your mouth, his hands sliding around to cup your ass as he kisses you back with a fervor that takes your breath away. He stands up from his chair, pressing you back against the desk as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.
You wrap your legs around his body pulling him tight against you. Scott groans into the kiss, his body molded perfectly against yours. His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he rocks his hips into you, his hard length pressing against the thin fabric of your panties.
He breaks the kiss and moves to your neck, his teeth and tongue nipping and soothing the sensitive skin. "You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to do this all day," he whispers hoarsely.
“Show me how bad,” you moan out, your hands moving to his belt as you fumble with the buckle. Scott grins at your demand, watching as your shaky hands struggle with his belt.
"Impatient, are we?" he teases, his hands covering yours, aiding you in undoing his belt and the button of his pants.
He presses you back against the desk, pinning your hands above your head as his hips grind against yours, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this eager before, sweetheart."
“Scott I need you,” you moan quietly, “please.” Scott's smirk turns into a full-blown smile at your needy whimper, his eyes darkening with desire. He quickly pulls your panties aside, revealing your wet, swollen sex to his hungry gaze.
His own arousal is palpable, his cock straining against his briefs. With a swift motion, he releases himself and sheaths it with a condom he's had in his pocket, anticipation making his hands shake slightly. He lines himself up with your entrance and with one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely.
You gasp into his mouth as he starts to move, his strokes deep and measured, his hands holding you down on the desk as he takes you over and over again. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making you arch into him, desperate for more.
The sound of your moans mingles with the rustle of paper and the slap of skin on skin, creating a symphony of passion that echoes through the otherwise silent office. The urgency in his movements grows, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythm that matches the racing of your heart.
You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your muscles tightening around him as you whisper his name like a prayer. His grip on your wrists tightens, his hips moving faster, more insistent. You know it won't be long before you both succumb to the overwhelming desire that's been building between you all day.
As the tension between you reaches a fever pitch, Scott's hips begin to move with an erratic rhythm, his breathing heavy and ragged against your neck. You can feel the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot deep within you, sending shudders of pleasure through your body with every stroke. His grip on your wrists tightens even more, his movements becoming more forceful as he nears his own climax.
Your eyes flutter closed as you lean back, arching your body into him, silently begging for more. His teeth graze your skin, his tongue tracing a wet path up to your ear, where he whispers a string of filthy words that only serve to stoke the fire burning within you.
You tighten your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, faster, the pressure building until it's almost unbearable. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, he groans deeply, his body tensing as he releases inside the condom. The wave of your own orgasm follows almost immediately, a powerful crescendo that leaves you gasping for air. Your bodies remain intertwined for a moment, both of you panting and trembling from the intensity of your shared release.
As the tremors of your shared climax subside, Scott pulls out of you gently, the feeling of emptiness making you whimper. He quickly disposes of the condom in a nearby trash bin, his movements swift and practiced, not wanting to break the spell that's woven around the two of you. He then presses soft, delicate kisses along your neck and collarbone, his breathing still heavy with desire.
Each kiss feels like a whispered promise of more to come, a silent apology for the roughness of his earlier touch. His hands glide over your body, smoothing out your rumpled clothes, his eyes never leaving yours. The air in the office is thick with the scent of sex and the unspoken understanding that everything has changed between you. You watch him, your heart racing, as he takes a step back, his gaze lingering on your swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
He helps you down from the desk, his hands lingering on your waist as you stand unsteadily on wobbly legs. He pulls his pants up, his eyes never leaving yours, as he tucks in his shirt and re-buckles his belt. With a soft smile, he leans in to kiss you, his hands moving to fix your skirt and panties. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he ensures you’re put back together properly.
You watch him, still dizzy from the passionate encounter, as he straightens his tie and runs a hand through his hair. The smell of sex lingers in the air, a potent reminder of what just transpired. He pulls you into his arms, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, and finally your lips, his breath warm and comforting against your skin.
Scott wraps you in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, finally your lips. You shiver slightly, still a bit flushed and breathless from the passionate encounter. "You alright, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice gruff yet gentle.
“Yes, more than alright.” A soft smile paints your lips as you press your face into his chest, breathing in his cologne.
Scott grins as you bury your face in his chest, his arms holding you close. He revels in the feel of your body against his, the warmth and softness of your skin.
"Good," he murmurs, running a soothing hand down your back. "Because I have a question for you." You hug his waist cuddling into his warm and muscular body.
“What is it?” You pull back a bit, looking up at him. Scott keeps you snug against him, enjoying the feel of your body cuddled into his. His arms tighten around you, reluctant to let you go just yet.
"I was wondering," he begins, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "If you'd like to go out to dinner with me tonight?" You smile at him sweetly.
“I’d love to.” Scott's smile widens into a full-blown grin at your acceptance. He gently cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking down at you with a gaze that holds a hint of possessive intent.
"Good," he says, his voice low and husky. "Because I can't stand the thought of letting you out of my sight for too long."
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indierpgnewsletter · 6 months ago
Text
The 1980 Dallas RPG was a Soap Opera Wargame?
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In 1980, SPI, a company known for its wargames did a strange thing and published an RPG based on the Dallas tv show. If you don't know anything about the tv show, don't worry, I will protect you. It's too late for me though. You go on ahead. Basically, it was a hit TV show of big money family feuding. Imagine Succession but it was written in the 1980s and instead of TV news, it was an oil company. Unlike the show, the RPG wasn't a hit. The art director of the game famously wrote that they printed 80,000 copies and that was 79,999 more than people wanted. That one person seemed to be this person's grandma who bought it for him to save his soul from D&D/Satan.
What is this game though? Well, James F Dunnigan, founder of SPI and designer of legendary wargame, Panzerblitz, seems to have applied his analytical mind to the internecine squabbles of Dallas and decided that, if you think about it, petty family drama isn't so different from CIA covert ops. And he was right.
As you'd expect from a wargame, the rules are dry and clinical to a fault. You start by picking one of the 9 characters from the show - JR, Jock, Sue Ellen, Pam, etc. They all have stats like Persuasion, Coercion, Seduction. And these stats have attack/defend values. For example, JR has a Coercion of 24 because he's a real jerk. Sue Ellen has a Seduction resist of 18, but it's 20 against JR, because again, he seems to have been a real jerk. This game genuinely went out of its way to make sure you know JR's wife really really doesn't want to go near him.
Each character starts the session ("episode") with a secret story-based objective. Jock wants to run an angry former employee out of town, JR wants to cheat an Arab oil magnate out of 100 million dollars, Sue Ellen wants to do a favour for an old boyfriend. Yeah, what can I say? Some of these objectives feel more important than others. Regardless, you achieve these objectives by controlling 4 or more specific minor characters and organisations by the end of the game. For example, to enact his 100 million dollar plan, JR has to control the Ewing Oil Company, Mustafa Quattara, Professor Bayard, the reporter Mary Cleef, and so on. But characters' objective overlap so Pam also wants Mustafa Quattara and Jock also wants Professor Bayard. These conflicting goals means players need to scheme, negotiate and attack each other so they can win.
The sessions play out in five rounds. Each round, the GM sets the scene. Then, the players can negotiate and make deals. Then, we enter the conflict phase where each player makes three moves - either trying to gain control of uncontrolled NPCs, or attacking another player to steal an NPC from under them, or protecting their own NPCs. And the game throws in little curveballs every round: Oops, some of JR's drinking buddies are in town and he can't say no to them, so his character is out of this round. Hopefully the player has some NPCs that they can use to act instead. Oops, Mustafa Quattara is being chased by assassins. Whoever controls his card has to give it up as he disappears for a bit and comes back uncontrolled. The end result is somewhere in between Vampire the Masquerade (or rather, Undying) and Blood on the Clocktower.
Sure, the math is dense (you roll 2d6 under the difference between the attack value and the defense value, plus or minus any currency spent). Sure, it takes 9 players to really sing. Sure, multiple people can complete their objective so you need to track victory points separately to decide the real winner. Sure, you have to take the homophobia out of the Seduction rules. Sure, roleplaying is completely optional. Sure, sure, sure. The game is a mess. But it's a very playable mess. I'd go so far as to say it's an electric mess. It's shockingly (sorry) fun to play. I think the secret lies in a very clear agenda for the players, a tight boardgame-like action economy, a premise that supports hilarious degrees of pettiness, and an inter-personal experience that demands everyone pay attention to what their friends are doing.
So. Am I planning a full 9 person play-by-post game of this? Yes. Am I thinking of changing the setting and the math? Yes. Is that basically designing a new game? Yes. Should this game be labelled "Powered by Dallas" or, as one of my players suggested, "Hornswoggled by Dallas"? YES.
(This was first published in the Indie RPG Newsletter.)
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jymwahuwu · 4 months ago
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tis i! wingweaver anon again back from the livestream with a vengeance XD.
https://honkai-star-rail.fandom.com/wiki/Transcript_of_Ten-Lords_Commission_Interrogation_With_the_Wingweaver_Xili
but i found this transcript and i realized that some wingweavers have come under the watch of the luofu. imagine a wingweaver reader from xili's clan being left behind on this strange ship. maybe you'd known xili as well, something of a mother to you perhaps, or a rather stern aunt.
even so, you are a proud little thing with your own biases and you are not fond of the xianzhou at all. but you're not one who specializes in any combat or military genius ( perhaps you are a labourer or servant class? ) so you cannot stir up trouble or run your mouth. you can no longer fly either because of the strict watch placed upon you and your clansmen, and you must content yourself with working odd jobs for a living with people who dislike you in equal measure.
but then there is a strange white haired man who comes and meets you sometimes. he likes pulling on your wings and feeding into your curious mind with stories and yummy food. and you can't say you're not impressed by him, xianzhou native or not. maybe at some point you slowly shed away that anger because it's so exhausting.
jing yuan had grown to have his own guilty pleasures, with your company exclusive to him and no one else. you're bright eyes, a little snarky, a little witty and you're such an adorable little birdie to him. surely he's allowed to be selfish, yes? and seeing you soften up and let him hold you, press soft kisses down your neck, he has an air of smug satisfaction.
but now you're trying to be civil with other people? he can't help but feel that bite of possessiveness. perhaps you've been a bit too brave in that regard, a bad little bird who has wandered too close to the bars of her cage.
he coaxes you to his home, to the coziness of his room when he finds out you're slowly going into heat. there were clear orders given to you and your clan that you were not allowed to proliferate...but really now, that was with each other, yes? you should be fine with him? and your mind and instincts do see jing yuan as a good mate. he is strong and he's proven a good companion, so you're more than happy to present yourself to him.
jing yuan does not stop till every bit of you if full with his seed. you'll bear his children soon enough and he's giddy at the thought, keeping you locked up for him to fuss, spoil and fuck. you could try to run but you learn rather quick that he's terribly good at finding you.
soon enough you do slowly give up a little and have him touch you all over, on your belly and breasts, cooing. he's so soft and kind to you and he keeps this nest you've made nice and warm. maybe you did belong here in the end, just for him. so you stay, with his ribbon tied round your neck like a pretty collar.
Thank you wingweaver anon, I absolutely love this series!! This sounds so cute <3<3
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tw: dub-con/non-con, forced breeding, bird's estrus, harassment
As you were working part-time and waving your wings, attracting curious attention from the people of Xianzhou, Jing Yuan was also attracted. He's always loved furry and adorable things - kittens, puppies, birds - and now, you, with wings and feathers falling to the ground? Real wings? His heart seemed to be tickled by your feathers. Maybe this is the cuteness attack. The general couldn't help but tug at your wings, which were softer than velvet.
You screamed softly, stepped back, and turned to look at him, your shy blood rushing to your ears and heating up. "Sir, please don't touch other people's wings at will!" Jing Yuan apologized casually, "I'm sorry, I'm just curious about your wings. Are you-" The words stopped. He realizes what planet you are from. You are an enemy being monitored by Xianzhou. A little bird in captivity. So he took time to come to your place of work almost every day. Stories, tips, sweet words. There's no point in getting angry at him, you feel like an ungrateful brat - considering he is Xianzhou's general and allows you guys limited freedom here.
Some occasional display of bird habits is also nice. It felt so good to him. Jing Yuan tentatively picked up some shiny necklaces and shook them in front of you, not missing your eyes lighting up (but then, you looked away and snorted).
Some Xianzhou people, as well as your kind, want to pursue you. You are so popular, you just didn’t notice it. Most people want birdie girls like you. Chirpy, smart, sharp and cute. Jing Yuan decided to take the initiative. He was convinced that given you a chance you would fly to a safe and comfortable nest. He can provide one. On the day when you were particularly grumpy and showing off your feathers, he slowly lured you into the general's palace. Under the influence of estrus (or do you just like him? You don't know.), you can't help but stare at his broad shoulders and chest, suspecting that those are so warm and sure to keep you safe and comfortable. He's huge, too.
There were soft chains on your hands, and you were being penetrated and creampied, the feathers then scattered on his bed. It was a bed specially purchased by Jing Yuan to simulate the space and environment of a nest. "…Jing Yuan-" With the high-speed and deep thrusting frequency, you tried to form words other than moaning. "Maybe-maybe that's enough? I-I'm going back to the nest-" His hands lifted both of your thighs up. And that giggle. The cock presses deeper against your cervix. "No, you're not pregnant yet."
"Pregnant?" You opened your mouth and widened your eyes, but your reproductive instinct inspired you, and you unconsciously wrapped your body tighter around his cock, milking him. He closed his eyes in enjoyment. You rolled your eyes, "mm ah-!"
"Yes. I'm going to be the father of the baby birds," he announced during the creampie.
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mbruben-stein · 5 months ago
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Alphabet swf for tmnt 2012 please
TMNT 2012 SFW Alphabet: Leonardo.
A/N: You weren't perfect on which TMNT Character to write, so I'm doing Leo, which I hope is okay with you. Also, I only write one character per alphabet SWF if it's the full list. Now, if you're picking a list of characters and only a few letters from the SFW alphabet, then yes, I would have done all four of them.
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Leo tends to be more reserved in outwardly expressing affection, as he tries to maintain a serious leader-like demeanor. However, with someone he is truly close to and comfortable with, he shows his caring side through thoughtful gestures and quality time together. Leo is attentive and makes an effort to remember little details about his partner's interests and preferences. He enjoys having deep conversations and bonding over shared nerdy hobbies like sci-fi shows. While not extremely physically affectionate in public, in private Leo is tender, giving warm hugs, gentle caresses, and loving looks. His affection comes through in the way he is supportive, protective, and willing to make sacrifices for his loved one's wellbeing. Leo may not be the most vocal about his feelings, but his devotion and commitment speak volumes.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
As a best friend, Leo would be extremely loyal, protective, and always there to lend an ear or help out however he can. The friendship would likely start with him coming to your aid in some situation where you really needed help. Despite being focused on his ninjutsu training, Leo has a big heart and would be drawn to befriend someone he sees struggling or in need of assistance. Once he commits to the friendship, he's all in - willing to put himself in harm's way for your wellbeing. Leo can be a bit overbearing at times with his "big brother" tendency to want to guide and teach. But he means well, and you'd have an unwavering ally and confidant in him. His nerdiness about shows like Space Heroes might initially seem strange, but you'd come to find his passion for heroic ideals admirable and endearing.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Leo tends to be a bit reserved when it comes to physical affection, but he cherishes quiet, intimate moments to cuddle with his significant other. He likes being the "big spoon" and holding his partner close, feeling protective yet relaxed in their embrace. Leo enjoys running his fingers gently through their hair or tracing soothing patterns on their back as they snuggle. Though serious by nature, he lets his guard down completely when cuddling, nuzzling his face against theirs and peppering soft kisses on their cheeks or forehead. Leo's cuddles are tender, his grip secure yet gentle, providing a sense of safety and comfort as the two enjoy each other's warmth and company in these blissful moments.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
While Leo is deeply committed to his role as the leader and protector of his brothers, there is a part of him that longs for a more settled life outside of constant battles and vigilantism. He admires the idea of having a place to call his own, where he can find peace and stability. However, his sense of duty and responsibility often overshadows his personal desires. When it comes to cooking and cleaning, Leo is surprisingly skilled, having learned the importance of organization and taking care of their living space from Master Splinter. He finds solace in the routine of preparing meals for his brothers and maintaining a clean environment, as it allows him to channel his disciplined nature into practical tasks that benefit his family.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
If Leo had to break up with his significant other, he would likely approach it with maturity and sensitivity, yet also with a sense of honor and directness that reflects his disciplined nature. He would likely want to have an open and honest conversation, expressing his feelings and reasons for the decision with clarity and respect. As the leader, Leo values clear communication, so he would aim to be direct without being unnecessarily harsh. At the same time, his protective instincts might make it difficult for him to fully open up about the reasons behind the breakup if he felt it could deeply hurt his partner. Despite his seriousness, Leo has a tendency to be idealistic, so the breakup might stem from a realization that the relationship was not living up to his romantic expectations or vision of the perfect partnership. His desire to emulate heroic archetypes could also play a role, perhaps feeling that the relationship was holding him back from fully embodying the qualities he admires. Ultimately, while the conversation would likely be difficult, Leo would strive to handle the breakup with grace, empathy, and a desire to minimize unnecessary pain or conflict, reflecting his role as a wise and caring leader.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Leo takes commitment very seriously, viewing it as a profound duty and responsibility. As a leader, he understands the importance of honoring one's vows and obligations. When it comes to marriage, Leo would want to take things slowly and ensure he is fully ready before making that lifelong commitment. He is a bit of a romantic at heart, inspired by the heroic ideals he sees in "Space Heroes", but he's also pragmatic. Leo would likely want to be financially stable, have a clear purpose and path forward, and be absolutely certain about his partner before proposing marriage. Once married, he would be fiercely loyal and devoted, viewing it as his role to provide and protect his family unit. While not opposed to marriage, Leo would carefully weigh the decision rather than rushing into it.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Leo is incredibly gentle, both physically and emotionally, with his s/o. Despite his intense ninja training and battle-hardened skills, he has an incredibly soft side reserved only for his loved one. Physically, his touches are feather-light, his embraces tender and protective. He's always mindful of his strength, never wanting to inadvertently hurt his partner. Emotionally, Leo showers his s/o with patience, understanding, and unwavering support. He's an attentive listener, validating their feelings without judgment. His words are carefully chosen to soothe and uplift. Leo's protective nature extends to creating a safe emotional space where his s/o can be vulnerable without fear. With his maturity and wisdom, he's able to de-escalate conflicts and provide reassuring calm in turbulent moments. Leo's gentle nature nurtures a deep intimacy in the relationship.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
When it comes to hugs, Leo is not one to shy away from them, especially with his significant other. He finds comfort and solace in their warm embrace, allowing himself to momentarily shed the weight of responsibility he carries as the leader of the team. Leo's hugs are firm and enveloping, conveying a sense of security and protection. He holds his partner close, savoring the connection and the opportunity to express his affection without words. While Leo may not initiate hugs as frequently as his more outgoing brothers, he certainly welcomes and reciprocates them wholeheartedly. In those tender moments, the usually guarded leader lets his walls down, revealing a softer side that only his significant other gets to witness. Leo's hugs are a reminder of the depth of his feelings and his ability to be both a strong protector and a gentle, loving partner.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Leo's dedication to his role as leader and his desire to protect his siblings would likely make him cautious about developing romantic feelings. However, once he lets his guard down and allows himself to be vulnerable with someone he truly cares for, his passionate nature could lead to him expressing his love relatively quickly. In a relationship with his significant other, Leo would initially try to maintain a level of professionalism and not rush into things. But as the bond deepens and he witnesses their loyalty, strength, and ability to support him, his feelings would intensify rapidly. Leo's romantic side, usually overshadowed by his responsibilities as a leader, would emerge. He might surprise his partner by declaring his love wholeheartedly, albeit accompanied by his characteristic cheesy one-liners and attempts to emulate his beloved "Space Heroes" characters. While his brothers might tease him, Leo would be unfazed, secure in his love for his significant other and their acceptance of his quirks.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Leo's jealousy would stem from his deep care and protective nature towards his significant other. While generally mature and level-headed, the thought of someone else vying for their affection or potentially endangering their well-being would bring out a more possessive side in him. His jealousy would manifest through subtle actions - narrowed eyes tracking any perceived threat, a tightening jaw, and a shift in his body language to become more shielding of his partner. Vocally, he might make thinly-veiled comments about the other person's intentions or attempt to steer his significant other away from the situation. However, Leo would be conscious of not overstepping boundaries or appearing controlling. If the jealousy became overwhelming, he would likely withdraw to meditate and regain his composure, later having an open discussion with his partner to reassure himself and clear the air. Ultimately, his jealousy would be a temporary lapse fueled by his desire to safeguard what he holds dear.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Leo tends to be quite passionate yet tender when kissing his significant other. He savors every moment, wanting to express his deep feelings through the intimacy of a kiss. Leo particularly loves peppering gentle kisses along his partner's jawline and neck, finding those areas incredibly alluring. He'll often nuzzle his face against theirs before capturing their lips in a soulful kiss, trying to convey all the affection and adoration he holds for them. In return, Leo melts when his significant other plants soft kisses on his cheeks and forehead - those simple yet loving gestures make his heart swell. Though he maintains a serious demeanor much of the time, Leo's kisses reveal his profound capacity for tenderness and devotion to the one he loves.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Leo's serious and disciplined nature often softens around children. While he maintains his role as a protective older brother figure, he exhibits a gentle patience when interacting with kids. His time spent watching "Space Heroes" allows him to connect with their sense of wonder and imagination. The idea of having his own children one day both excites and daunts Leo. On one hand, he relishes the opportunity to nurture and guide the next generation, imparting wisdom much like his mentor Splinter. However, his protective instincts also make him wary of the immense responsibility of parenthood. Leo wants to ensure he can provide a safe, structured environment for raising highly-skilled ninja kids. Despite his uncertainties, the thought of starting a family with his significant other fills him with a sense of purpose beyond his role as a leader of the turtles.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Mornings with Leo are a tranquil, almost meditative experience. He rises before the sun, carefully rolling out of bed so as not to disturb his sleeping partner. After a light workout and meditation session, Leo returns to prepare a healthy breakfast for them both. As his significant other stirs awake, they are greeted by the aroma of fresh tea and Leo's warm smile. He insists they start the day with a zen moment together, side-by-side on the mat, centering their minds before the inevitable chaos of the day's missions unfolds. Though his disciplined routine may seem rigid to some, Leo's mornings with his loved one are imbued with tenderness, respect for ancient traditions, and an unshakable devotion to strengthening the spiritual bond between two warriors' hearts.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Nights spent with Leo are always a mix of quiet quality time and geeky adventures. After a day of intense training or battles against the Foot Clan, Leo loves to unwind by cuddling up with his loved one on the couch to rewatch favorite episodes of "Space Heroes." He can't resist quoting the cheesy heroic lines, much to his partner's amusement. But his significant other also admires Leo's real-life heroism and leadership. Sometimes they'll play act battle scenarios, with Leo directing the strategy before dissolving into laughter at their silliness. Other evenings are spent stargazing on the rooftops, as Leo points out constellations and shares his deep thoughts about honor, courage and protecting his family and city. With his loved one by his side, Leo can truly relax and be his authentic, nerdy yet noble self.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
When it comes to Leo revealing things about himself in a romantic relationship, he would likely take a gradual approach. As someone who values discipline, maturity, and responsibility, Leo would want to build trust and intimacy with his significant other over time before fully opening up. Initially, Leo might share surface-level details about his interests, like his fondness for the show "Space Heroes" and his desire to emulate heroic qualities. However, he would likely hold back on delving too deeply into his personal struggles, insecurities, or vulnerabilities until he feels a strong emotional connection and senses that his partner is someone he can truly confide in. As the relationship progresses and Leo becomes more comfortable, he would gradually reveal more about his role as the leader of the Turtles, the weight of responsibility he carries, and the challenges he faces in maintaining harmony within the team, especially with his sibling rivalry with Raphael. He might also open up about his desire for perfection and the pressures he puts on himself to be an exemplary leader and role model. Rather than an all-at-once revelation, Leo would likely share these deeper aspects of himself in layers, gauging his partner's reactions and building trust along the way. Once he truly feels understood and accepted, Leo would be more likely to fully expose his innermost thoughts, fears, and struggles, seeking not just a romantic partner but also a confidant and source of emotional support.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Leo is usually calm, collected, and level-headed, especially when compared to his more hotheaded brother Raphael. However, his significant other has seen that Leo can get frustrated and angry at times, particularly when his brothers don't listen to his orders during missions or when he feels he has failed as a leader. With his partner though, Leo lets his guard down more. He may get momentarily annoyed if teased about his love for Space Heroes or if his strategies are questioned, but a reassuring touch from his loved one can quickly diffuse any flare of temper. Leo's partner knows he has a tendency to be hard on himself, so they are always ready with kind words and reminders that he's doing his best to lead the team. While Leo has an intense personality, his significant other's patience and understanding helps him work through frustrations in a healthy way.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
When it comes to his significant other (s/o), Leo's attention to detail and ability to remember are quite remarkable. As someone who prides himself on being disciplined and responsible, he would make a conscious effort to remember every little detail about his partner that they share with him. Leo is the type of person who would actively listen and pay close attention whenever his s/o talks about their interests, aspirations, or even casual anecdotes from their day. He would commit these details to memory, not just because he cares deeply for his partner, but also because he understands the importance of being attentive and considerate. With his analytical mind and his tendency to pick up on subtleties, Leo would likely remember small things like his s/o's favorite color, their preferred type of music, or the stories they shared about their childhood. He would also take note of their likes, dislikes, and any important dates or events that hold significance for them. While Leo may occasionally forget a minor detail here and there, especially if it was mentioned in passing, he would make a conscious effort to retain as much information as possible about his significant other. His ability to remember and cherish these details would likely strengthen their bond and make his s/o feel valued and appreciated.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Leo's favorite moment with his significant other is when they had their first real heart-to-heart talk, opening up about their hopes, fears, and what drives them. Despite his bravado as a leader, Leo deeply values emotional vulnerability and being able to share his true self with someone he loves. On that night, as they sat together gazing at the city skyline, Leo felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy unlike anything he'd experienced before. His partner listened intently without judgment, offering caring reassurance when Leo expressed his occasional self-doubts about being a good leader. In return, Leo provided a supportive shoulder as his loved one courageously revealed their own insecurities. From that point on, Leo knew he could trust this person wholeheartedly, and it solidified his commitment to the relationship in a way little else could.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Leo would be incredibly protective of his significant other, given his strong sense of responsibility and his deep care for those close to him. He would go to great lengths to ensure their safety and well-being, always remaining vigilant and ready to defend them from any potential harm. Leo's protective nature would manifest in various ways. He would likely insist on accompanying his partner whenever they venture out, keeping a watchful eye and being prepared to jump into action if necessary. He would also make sure their living spaces are secure, checking for vulnerabilities and taking measures to fortify them. Additionally, Leo would encourage his partner to learn self-defense techniques, not only for their own protection but also because he values discipline and preparedness. He would take great pride in being their mentor, patiently guiding them through training sessions and ensuring they can handle themselves in difficult situations. In return, Leo would deeply appreciate his partner's efforts to protect him as well. While he may initially resist the idea of needing protection, he would ultimately find comfort in knowing his loved one has his back. Their mutual commitment to safeguarding each other would strengthen their bond and reinforce the trust and respect they share.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Leo would put a tremendous amount of effort into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks when it comes to his significant other. Being the disciplined and responsible leader that he is, Leo would approach his relationship with the same dedication and commitment he shows towards his duties as the leader of the Turtles. For dates and anniversaries, Leo would meticulously plan every detail, from researching the perfect romantic location to carefully selecting meaningful gifts that reflect his deep understanding and appreciation for his partner. He would likely incorporate elements from his beloved "Space Heroes" show, adding a touch of his geeky charm to make the occasion truly unique and special. In everyday tasks, Leo would be attentive and considerate, always striving to make his significant other feel valued and supported. Whether it's helping with chores, offering a listening ear, or simply being present and engaged, Leo would put forth his full effort to be the best partner he can be. His perfectionist tendencies might sometimes lead him to overthink or stress over getting every detail just right, but his genuine care and affection for his significant other would shine through, making every gesture, no matter how small, a heartfelt expression of his love and commitment.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Leo is fiercely loyal and protective of his significant other, always putting their needs and safety first. However, his dedication to being a responsible leader often means he has trouble separating his roles, treating his partner more like a subordinate at times rather than an equal. His bad habit of constantly trying to emulate his fictional hero, Captain Ryan, can also grate on his partner's nerves. Despite his best intentions, Leo's tendencies to be overbearing, give too many unsolicited heroic speeches, and prioritize his duties over quality time together sometimes strain the relationship. His significant other loves his noble spirit but wishes he could loosen up more and be present in the moment instead of constantly playing the role of the wise leader. Still, they admire Leo's unwavering commitment to doing the right thing and support him, even when his heroic antics become a bit much.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
While Leo is dedicated to his ninjutsu training and being a responsible leader, he can't help but be a bit vain when it comes to his looks, especially around his significant other. He spends a little extra time making sure his mask is tied perfectly and his gear looks sharp before going out. Leo likes when his partner admires his toned physique that he works hard to maintain. However, his S/O finds Leo's concern over his appearance endearing rather than overbearing. They reassure him that he looks great no matter what and that his most attractive qualities are his bravery, loyalty, and caring nature as a leader and partner. With their support, Leo learns to not get too hung up on superficial looks and focuses more on being the best version of himself inside and out.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Leo deeply values his relationship with his s/o, who grounds him and provides emotional support amidst the pressures of leadership. While he tries to maintain a stoic front as the leader of the team, Leo's s/o sees his vulnerabilities and self-doubts. With them, he can let his guard down and find solace, comfort, and reassurance. His s/o reminds him not to be too hard on himself and encourages him to maintain balance in his life. Leo feels his s/o completes him – their unwavering belief in him bolsters his confidence, and their calming presence helps him stay centered. Without his s/o, Leo would likely feel incomplete, lacking that vital emotional anchor and source of unconditional acceptance that allows him to be his true self away from the weight of his responsibilities.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Leo sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and steady as he meditated. His mind was clear, focused solely on finding his inner peace and balance. Quietly, his s/o entered the room, smiling fondly at the sight of Leo in such a serene state. They admired how the soft light played across his green features, accentuating the strength in his jaw and the gentleness in his expression. Unable to resist, they padded over and knelt down beside him. Leaning in close, they placed a tender kiss on Leo's forehead, letting their lips linger for a moment. Leo's eyes fluttered open, surprised but meeting his s/o's loving gaze with a warm smile. Without a word, he reached out and pulled them into a soft embrace, holding them close as the world around them seemed to melt away. In that moment, there was only the two of them, connected by the powerful bond they shared. Leo's usual seriousness gave way to pure contentment as he basked in the affection of the one who held his heart.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Leo values discipline, focus, and responsibility, so he likely wouldn't appreciate recklessness, laziness, or a lack of commitment in a partner. As a dedicated leader, he may find it frustrating if his significant other is overly carefree or dismissive of rules and duties. Leo's protective nature means he probably wouldn't like someone who constantly puts themselves in harm's way or makes impulsive decisions without considering the consequences. While he appreciates his siblings' unique qualities, Leo's more serious demeanor could clash with a partner who is excessively goofy or immature. Additionally, his love for "Space Heroes" and desire for heroism might make him uncomfortable with someone who mocks his interests or fails to understand his values of honor and justice. Overall, Leo likely seeks a partner who shares his dedication, maturity, and sense of responsibility, while still balancing it with compassion and the ability to occasionally have fun.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Despite his disciplined nature, Leo is actually a restless sleeper when sharing a bed with his partner. He tosses and turns frequently throughout the night, often kicking off the covers or stealing them entirely. His ninja senses remain heightened even in slumber, causing him to startle awake at the slightest noise or movement. However, having his significant other by his side helps soothe Leo's active mind. He finds comfort in their warmth and steady breathing beside him. If they move closer and gently embrace him, it grounds Leo and allows him to sink into a more peaceful, undisturbed sleep. In the morning, he wakes refreshed, appreciating how his loved one's presence centered him through the night.
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mikaela-the-slut-expert · 5 months ago
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I have a request... though you don't have to write it or anything... just since I saw a new post, I just decided to write this thought in my head. Again, you don't have to write it if you don't want to.
Anyway, hualian with m-reader, right BUT the m reader that they are with is a clone.
If you have read dear door then you know the doctor, he has the ability to make clones NOW give that to m-reader and send hualian and a manhunt to find the real m-reader.
They find him chained under a mountain, serving punishment for whatever reason you can think of, and the only person the real m-reader trusts is his clone. Slowly warming up to hualian through constant company and assurances from his clone...
...
..
.
Smut scene is asked but not required...
Clones?
HuaLian x M!reader
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Wanted to write headcanons for the first half and write an actual story for the smut part. Also read some of dear door and now you've got me hooked 🖐️😔. I got as far as knowing he has clones but not how they work 😭 since the doctor was a demon though we makin reader a ghost. This was actually hard, sorry if this sucks y'all 😭
Ignore grammar mistakes
!!! Blowjobs, gagging, sex, foursome, clonecest, orgasms galore, covered in cum, practically a gang bang if I say so myself.
____________________________________
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have a third lover, he's a little strange but they love him dearly.
They love your clone that is, not that they would know
Your clone says strange things sometimes.
"Oh, I would've loved this", "I wonder what I'm doing right now?"
You're right here what do you mean?
They've decided, maybe it's a weird quirk of yours.
So without your knowledge, your clone has gained the affections of two very strong and important men.
Hua Cheng has been gazing at 'you' lately. Recently he's been suspicious of something.
He caught you crying.
While usually he would've immediately comforted you, he had noticed you were calling your own name while sobbing into the pillows.
Xie Lian has also been studying 'you' lately.
You've never been a fan of the public and usually hide your face behind a different form. The day they took 'you' out on a date and you forgot to hide your face, the ghosts seemed very confused.
They kept their space that day.
It was unusual so Xie Lian went looking around trying to see what was going on.
"I could've sworn he had been killed...", "Haven't seen that face in years..."
But you had been here the whole time?
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng eventually talk to each other about it and find out they have similar suspicions.
They confront 'you' about it and you bust into tears in their arms immediately.
Through muffled sobs, your clone admits what he is. Just that, a clone .
He tells Xie Lian and Hua Cheng everything, and tells them that his real name is just ' Kèlóng' which means clone.
So if this is Kèlóng, and just a clone... Where are you?
It doesn't take long at all to find the real you, Xie Lian knew where you were most likely being kept.
The real you however isn't as, trusting, as Kèlóng is.
You also look different. Older, scarred, and irritated.
Kèlóng, looks younger and bubblier.
They do get you out of under that mountain though, and let you stay at Paradise Manor.
You only really agreed because Kèlóng said it was safe.
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng know you don't know them, and you technically aren't their lover but they can't help but love you anyways.
They're careful with you, and let Kèlóng do a lot of things since you only seem to trust him.
It takes a while for you to be comfortable in the presence, especially Xie Lian's since he's a god.
You don't hate them, you guess. They aren't mean and even though at first you had been scared like a feral cat who hisses and scratches they seemed to keep caring and loving you anyways.
So after some time you let them in.
Kèlóng is happy, his creator and lovers are getting along well. And maybe you'll become their lover too!
He predicts correctly.
Kèlóng made it a game to roam around in your form instead of his usual young looking self, so Xie Lian and Hua Cheng can't tell who's, who.
Eventually kisses, and affections start getting muddled between both of you.
And you? You didn't say anything because you enjoyed it.
Hua Cheng is the one who finds this out. He kissed you thinking it might be Kèlóng. When Kèlóng, in his normal look, and Xie Lian walk in though, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian figure it out.
Especially with the way you don't pause to stop. When Hua Cheng pulls back in embarrassment, and tries to apologize, you pull him back closer and continue making out with him.
That's when they decide to ask you to be their lover as well.
Of course you agreed.
🦊🪷
You are not a clone fucker, you never looked at your clone and thought, 'Yeah, I would fuck myself'. But this situation makes you think, you might be on the border edge of being considered clonecest?
The situation being, you gagging on your own clones cock that is. How did you get in this situation you ask? Hua Cheng and Xie Lian were curious. They wanted to see you, intimate with your clone and well... You looked at their stupid, handsome faces and said yes.
You weren't expecting to be gang banged! What the fuck?! You're brought back to be present when Hua Cheng's hips smack against your ass, forcing you to take Kèlóng's cock deeper down your throat.
You gargle, and Kèlóng is generous enough to pull out of your mouth. Since when was your dick this good? Since when was Hua Cheng's so big? This is ridiculous.
"How... How much longer are we going to do this?" Your voice is raspy now when you talk now. Hua Cheng has been arranging your guts for hours now and you swear the stupid ghost hasn't cum once.
Hua Cheng's chuckle vertebrates in his chest. "Gege hasn't even had a turn yet, why are you so impatient?" He runs his hand down your spine and then pulls your arms behind your back, forcing you to take him deeper. You whine loudly and huff through your nose.
You glance over to where Xie Lian sits. He's just watching, he always watches. It's embarrassing, his pretty eyes gazing at your face, soaking up everything they can. Kèlóng moves away from you and briefly you can hear your clone urge Xie Lian to take your mouth.
Xie Lian complies, you can tell when the bed dips in front of you and you're suddenly met with Xie Lian's cock. It's not like you hate this. They know you don't hate it. If you did, you wouldn't have lurched forward to deepthroat Xie Lian.
Xie Lian runs his fingers gently through your hair and slowly rolls his hips. Unlike your clone who so excitedly fucked your throat. It feels like you're floating right now, not having to think about anything. Your cloud palace is interrupted when Kèlóng fists your hair and pushes your head down on Xie Lian's dick.
Hua Cheng takes his chance to fuck you deeper, harder. He must be close. Xie Lian has also started rocking his hips faster. They fuck you in a way that keeps you full. Not one second do you not have a cock in you. Fuck it turns you on.
You feel someone grab your hand and put it in an 'o' position. Distantly you hear Kèlóng, "Let me use your hand Y/n, please please please" it's not like he wait for you approval. He's already got his, yours?, his dick thrusting into your hand as if you chose to jerk him off.
You're surrounded. By your lovers, by men, by cocks. You love it and soon your body racks with another orgasm. It's not long until the men around you cum either.
They choose to make it messy. Xie Lian pulls out and cums on your face, though it's obvious he was sheepish about it. Hua Cheng doesn't, he pulls out and shoots an abnormal amount of cum across your ass and lower back. Kèlóng, your own clone, cums into your hand and manages to get it in your hair.
You fall limo into the bed and pant softly. All of them are looking at you. To them you look good like this, covered in all their cum. This is where you were meant to be not under that mountain.
"why are you guys looking at me like that..?" You tilt your head.
They're definitely going to fuck you again. What God should you pray to?
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