#its your dead brothers corpse staring at you in the corner | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drifloonz · 2 years ago

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Hi! I'm usually not one to send asks all that often, but what the heck. I'm kinda curious about your thoughts on something too since I've seen a lot of differing opinions.

Steven. Obviously Miki's accident and Missingno annihilated his sanity, but I feel like Mike's ghost also haunts him. Not in a malicious way, but just by existing. He just really wants to understand why Steven had to do that to him but whenever he attempts to reach out Steven flips due to guilt. I've seen someone's headcanon where Steven is this cold-hearted bastard who never cared about Mike, even as kids, and idk. It just doesn't sit right with me. Nothing wrong with it I'm just wondering how many other people share that sentiment vs Steven feeling immense guilt at being so blinded by rage that he'd murder his own brother and basically sell his soul.

Sorry if this is too much, I tend to ramble 😅

HI!! you were my actual first ask but i didn't see this one at first until i was writing the other one and out of the corner of my eye saw this and went "wait a minute." funny how that happens.

ANYWAYS i can definitely do that for you and ALSO do not apologize i ramble so much as well its fine. this'll be so long i apologize so im putting most of it under a read more !

cw for Bad mental health, strangling/murder obviously, and also some suicidal ideation ( which is warned for in the paragraph its shown in ).

i think steven just sort of like... blocks it off and tries to forget everything about that ever happened, but obviously, you cant forget that stuff that easily. it haunts him but he tries to push it as far back to his head as he can and he tries to forget SOOO hard... he's in intense denial. i like the art of him immediately regretting it but i think he'd just stare at mikes corpse for a few minutes and then just be like. scarred by the imagery, and it'd make him breathe heavily and make his eyes widen in regret and he'd just keep staring for a few minutes. but he'd just run away afterward and it just burns into his mind sometimes, making him remember and regret it.

as someone with mental illness of Horribly Bad amounts, when someone you trust like that betrays you or you believe them to betray you ( which, its the ladder for steven and mike, mike obviously didn't intend to kill miki whether or not you believe he initiated the trade with slightly malicious/selfish intent or not ) it does bad damage to your psyche. especially when the murder of someone you care for is involved, which makes the thinking in steven's brain go "oh mike murdered miki. intentionally or not he's the reason she's dead." and then that makes him very upset towards mike mixed with someone he sorta looked up to betray him like that. he just regressed hard and went thru a depressive spiral for a whole year, having the thing he most loved taken away from him so suddenly almost entirely without his control, and then he got so tired of bottling it up he snapped ( lol ) and killed mike.

suicidal thoughts cw for this paragraph: and also during the 1 year without miki, steven obviously went through a major depressive episode and a sort of downwards spiral that just got worse and worse, and i don't think he wanted to get better. this is heavy but i sort of think he just hoped neglecting his self-care would eventually kill him and reunite him with his miki again, which is all he wanted. he didn't eat much if at all and he just sat in front of miki's grave, sometimes for days. he made a bed out of his misery, because it felt comfortable in a morbid way. if he died, he'd reunite with her, because at that point he didn't know anything could bring her back and all he wanted was her. it felt better than just... getting over it, or trying to. people convinced him to take better care of himself, but he still barely did anything past his necessities. this didn't help his mental state at all, as you can probably tell, which also fueled his hatred towards mike after the incident more and more. he made himself suffer this much due to an accident he caused, and he used that as further reasoning to dislike him, even though that was all self-inflicted.

i also like to think they didn't hate each other genuinely before this - mike never genuinely hated steven, but steven after the incident probably had Many complex feelings towards mike, mostly negative. but before the incident, they definitely had arguments and spats, and sometimes one would say something that would genuinely hurt the other ( usually steven did this to mike more than viceversa imo but both happened ) which both of them also probably bottled up and didnt talk about a lot ( although mike'd definitely apologize if he ever went too far - steven, i feel like would be too guilty and nervous to apologize ) which also sort of exploded in steven's face after miki died in front of him. those 3 things mixing together did not make a good combo for him.

the interp of missingno needing souls or steven at least thinking it does is fun but i like to think it never did and steven was just going through a horrendous downward spiral, and he went back home bc... where else would he go, he'd still have to pack the rest of his stuff to leave if he intended to, and seeing mike so vulnerable flipped a switch in steven's mind and made him just go [ steven voice ] "You know what would be funny?" ( worst way to describe that but u get it ). this can also arguably be missingnos influence or missingno possessing steven, which i feel is more plausible then it needing a sacrifice. but i think it just probably inserts or pushes forward steven's intrusive and aggressive thoughts, which i like to believe he always had especially after the incident, but never this bad. and then he just did it bc the thoughts wouldn't leave him alone and his mind convinced himself into it. even though he already had miki and didn't need to do that, it felt... fitting, to him. it was satisfying for a moment, especially because i like the interpretation that his mind warped mikes dying expression into him looking like he's laughing at steven ( explaining his hyplull sprites when hes being strangled being so weird ), until his mind realized the damage he just did, seeing mikes glazed over expression that was very much not smiling or laughing, and he went "oh. shit" in his head probably. his mind couldn't even comprehend what he just did. it'd take a lot of processing, and he didn't even want to process any of that, so after staring for a bit he just walked away from the scene and escaped to never be seen again.

i also like the interpretation that steven thought mike didn't actually care that much about miki dying or even did the trading thing on purpose - he clearly didn't kill her on purpose, but steven was so blinded by his own muddled emotions and rage and he needed an outlet, someone to blame, so he couldn't see it any other way and CONVINCED himself that mike did that on purpose. also because admittedly in canon mike saying that he needed a charizard implies he already had a charmeleon but thats muddy territory and probably just slightly a plot hole. but if that was the case i bet steven was like "... just evolve the charmeleon?" "but that'd take too looooong!" or something like that. mike is impatient as hell fr fr mans got adhd

if you want a good take on this and havent already, read faulty on ao3 . i hate ao3 for various reasons and only go there when im Parched for content. but goddamn that fic has the best characterization of the two imo, especially of this dynamic of them specifically along with their other relationships ( namely daisy and reds relationship to steven and mike too ) - steven even sometimes goes through like being slightly better around mike and then it all drops when he realizes she died for nothing, and mike didnt even finish the dex. fucking phenomenal fic tbh i love this characterization of them sm. a lot of this summarizes how i think they'd both act after the incident

____

as for the haunting... yeaaa. i think steven's just way too scarred and confused and scared to even allow mike to properly reach out, if steven even realizes it. i like to think he's paranoid and overthinks so he probably goes "oh god what if its mike" and then woopsy daisy! It is mike. and he just tries to pretend its nothing so bad and to ignore and avoid him because he's scared and confused and it makes him think far too long about his emotions on the situation that he was intentionally bottling up and pushing to the back of his head.

he also probably would think mike would try to revenge kill him because that's just how he thinks he himself would react if mike did that to him. Which makes him regret things further. he sleeps less due to this, usually on the defensive even though mike has no intent to harm him. i don't think mike ever had any room in his heart to ever hate steven. he's just confused or slightly upset at worst at anything steven's said or done to him... mike probably doesn't even really blame him, but he does just hope he's ok and prob lets out a sigh of relief when he finds steven, who is still a mess going through many things, and also murderous now, but he's still alive! which is a win in mikes book i guess!

he probably just tries to pretend mike isn't actually there or actively get rid of him, or he wouldn't even notice mike is haunting him in the first place, depending on how obvious the signs of the haunting are. his house is already sort of run down and haunted as fuck anyways, but in the back of his head he knows somethings off.

i also ... like the interp that steven took all of mikes team bc nobody was there to care for them anymore. so maybe when steven notices he sends out mikes blastoise or some of his other party members and hopes to god mike leaves him alone to go bother his own pokemon who he hasn't seen for years. after all, he basically never let mikes mons out of their ball, and even considered donating them all to professor oak or something ( probably just.. leaving the pokeballs out infront of the lab one day ) but that felt wrong, so he always kept them on hand. sometimes feeding them and not much else. mike probably had a ghost type ( gengar ) who can conveniently probably see him, and mike definitely would try to communicate to steven further through said ghost type. and he'd just be like. "gdi why did i send out the ghost type" in his mind.

miki can definitely see mikes ghost. mike is also like "OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU. WAIT YOUR ALIVE????" in his head, but he quickly gets used to it. he has no idea what the hell a missingno is or how/why she's alive but he just stops questioning it. they sometimes share a glance and nod. mike will sometimes avert his gaze from her due to guilt though. miki doesn't seem to care or hold resent, probably because imo 'M ( however you want to spell Missingno Miki ) isn't actually miki. it's missingno sort of possessing, haunting, or keeping miki's dead corpse alive, but her soul is no longer there anymore. at least most of it Isn't there. due to that she's a lot more emotionless. even if miki's soul was in there though, she would not hold genuine resent. if miki's soul was in there she'd probably be scared of steven ( specifically yk S!3V3N ) tbh

i definitely think steven has hallucinations sometimes, usually of miki or mikes corpses, usually much more horrifying looking than they actually were, so this doesn't help!

steven overall is just on the fence and regrets it all but doesn't even wanna think abt or interact w mike but if he somehow became more okay with it, he might start leaving mike notes or something. or talking to himself, assuming mike might overhear. small steps like that. and maybe if mike is able to sometimes steven just passes out on the couch or smth and mike covers him in a blanket while hes asleep and stevens just like. "That was not there when I fell asleep." in his head. stuff like that.

also mike might switch the tv channels or just Project an image onto it somehow. and steven just. squints at it. i think it'd be nice if they eventually got used to eachothers presence again and just silently hung around eachother. mike really wants to look after steven after seeing the state he's in and how much he didn't really help steven effectively when mike was alive. for an example probably, like, nudging the bathroom door open and turning on the bathwater and trying to make steven take a mfing bath and practice self care for once and steven just begrudgingly sighs and goes to do it since he might as well. and mike just walks away and is very smug about it. he Will make his little brother practice self care again and he's made that his personal goal. steven walking into the kitchen and seeing various pots and pans floating around along with a mess on the floor ( mikes getting used to his levitation powers still </3 ) and he just squints his eyes and leaves and comes back and theres a meal on the counter

steven making pancakes and he just holds out a plate for mike and he just takes it. and steven just sees the plate floating and goes "yea thats about what i expected" or smth. its cute, Although i cant see that happening very easily unfortunately </3 steven is very broken and very much Not wanting to think abt mike. so itd take very long for him to warm back up or even be ok with him possibly existing arnd him. but this'd prob happen eventually if mike is persistent, and by god, is mike persistent. its what got him into this mess in the first place.

i can write so much abt these depressed ex champions fr!!! anyways thank you for reading sorry for writing so much words. i hope this feeds you enough content for the next winter. i hope literally any of this made sense bc i just sorta typed my thought processes until it looked legible - wispy

#wispy writes #steven strangled red #strangled red #mike strangled red #pokepasta #headcanons #ramblings #tldr; read faulty on ao3 for a very good fic w good characterization on both steven and mike after the incident bc that just captures it #ghost mike is such a funny concept bc i like to think he might mess w steven but in very small prank ways #long post btw. like looong post. i talk and ramble way 2 much i apologize

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i-cant-stop-fandoming-help · 2 years ago

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I dont know what to title this give me ideas

This was my thing for the DRDTdev appreciation event. I was planning on posting it the day after everything was given to DRDTdev, but I forgor. This is my guess on Charles' trauma.

TWs: Gore, panic attacks, hospitals, and memory loss.

Inhale, exhale, pop. Inhale, exhale, pop. Bubbles floated in the air around Charles, popping one by one and causing the 9 year old to huff and pout.

“Charles, come on, they’re not gonna stay like that forever.” There was laughter in his brother’s voice, causing Charles to turn around and glare.

“You don’t know that!” Charles spat, somewhat aggressively, before getting back to blowing bubbles.

All but one popped, and the one survivor floated its way to the road. Finally, Charles had made one that survived! So he followed it, curiosity reigning.

His brother shot up, running after Charles with wide eyes. “CHARLES! CHARLES CUEVAS, COME BACK HERE!” He shouted, glancing towards the oncoming bright lights.

Charles didn't listen, only able to pay attention to the floating, clear, sphere in front of him. He could only see the light from the corner of his eye, but that didn’t seem to matter. He walked on.

Charles stepped onto the road when the bubble popped, stomping with disappointment and only then noticing the car. It was speeding, and wasn’t going to stop.

His brother quickly caught up, pushing Charles off the road and onto the grass on the other side, and took the hit himself.

Blood sprayed everywhere, coating the 9 year old and the car that kept on driving ahead. Splayed out on the road, was his older brother with bulged eyes and an agape mouth, stuck in a terrified expression.

Charles crawled to his brother quickly, shaking his head to try and get him to move. Instead, one of the bulged eyes fell out of its socket, hanging by the “cord” and seemingly pulling the other to slip deep inside its socket.

He stumbled back immediately, yelling and sobbing as the corpse stared at him with haunting eyes. “You did this. This is your fault.” it said, a whisper of anger. “Selfish idiot. Stupid wannabe scientist.”

He barely heard his parents running over, doing his best to ignore the lavender haired corpse as he hyperventilated.

In, out, in, out, out, in, in, in, out.

It was uneven. It didn’t feel right. Charles’ mind was getting cloudy already, and he felt like he was going to pass out.

And he did.

He awoke in his room, a small teddy bear nuzzled tightly into his arms. It had mauve hair, golden eyes, and it held a small heart saying “i luv u” on it. From his mother, right? It looked like Charles. That was funny.

He slowly sat up, scanning his surroundings and startling at seeing his mom crying. “Mama? What happened?” He asked, voice shaky. Why were his cheeks damp?

Surprise and rage flashed in her eyes. “Your brother is dead, Charles!” She exclaimed, her eyelids red and puffy.

“...Who?” Charles didn’t have a brother, that was silly.

#danganronpa despair time #charles cuevas #CW gore #gore #TW gore

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haellen-o · 1 year ago

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FFXIV Write Prompt #11: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

(unnoficially taking part in this still. Not tagging it with any of the tags as i'm not adhering to any of the rules for the FFXIVWrite thing. Just doing it for fun and because writing is enjoyable to me. even if i'm not the best)

“Is this really okay?” ophelia thought to herself as she stared in the mirror. The previous night was magical, but… The last time she felt that happy was…

“Thinking about him again?” A familiar voice rang through the small bathroom of ophelia’s home cottage. A figured clad in black with blue and gold accents just out of view, barely visible in the periphery of the mirror “It wasn’t your fault” Fray said calmly

“No matter how many times you say it. It doesn’t change anything” Ophelia responded, eyes turning to the reflection in the mirror “He took a blow meant for me… A blow i know i could have blocked”

“Could you?” Fray says simply. His reflection came more into view “Realistically. Before me… Before us” His tone turned more serious “Could you have actually blocked that and survived?”

Ophelia went silent “...It doesn’t matter if I could have blocked it. I should have blocked it” Ophelia exhaled deeply through her nose “It was my duty”

Fray placed a cold hand on her shoulder, like that of a long dead corpse. Iced and boney “Your duty is to live… Has self sacrifice gotten you anywhere other than a dark cold corner where you spend your nights tortured by dreams of what could have been?”

“It's gotten me power” She responded simply

“And it pushed away the people who cared about you” He added

Ophelia glanced to meet frays gaze, all that was in his place was thin air. The feeling of the gauntlet on her shoulder still there, her gaze returned to the mirror “The last time someone got close was my brother, and he died because of me”

“He did not die because of you” The grip on her shoulder tightened “Do not believe that for one moment that his death was anything you caused”

Ophelia sighed “I certainly didn’t try to stop it”

“You’re insufferable” Fray said simply after a deep sigh “How many times have we had this conversation? Forgive yourself… For his memory and for your own happiness”

Ophelia looked down and sighed, splashing her face with more ice cold water. Looking back up to an empty reflection in the mirror. The only thing greeting her was her own tired expression and gloomy eyes. Small scars littered what little of her body was visible in the mirror. A deep sigh escaped her “I’m just scared of that darkness swallowing me up this time” She said softly as she grabbed a towel and dried her face before leaving the room

The room was warm. The embers of a dying fire still crackle gently from the night before, a couple of books splayed out in front of the fireplace. Along with a large fur blanket that she had cuddled up into with the woman she realised she had feelings for. She slowly approached and leaned down to pick ysayle up to take her to the bed they never actually used the night before. But hesitated, hand shaking slightly

What if this was taken away from her again?, the warmth of the fire, the racing of her pulse. The breath on her lips… What if fate conspired to take away another thing she never realised she needed?

The world was blurred as ophelia stood there. Frozen in her own thoughts, barely registering the stirring body beneath her until it was too late. And a gentle and smooth hand found its way into hers “I was wondering when you��d return” Ysayle said softly. Her warm smile fading slightly “You look pale” A tired concern hovered in her tone

Ophelia pulled away and turned around, glancing to the side “I’m fine” She said quietly “Just… Just had a bad dream was all”

“Can I help make your morning good at least?” Ysayle asked softly. Reaching out again as ophelia recoiled further away

“No!... N-No my morning is already good” She turned to give an unconvincing half smile before averting her gaze again “I just need some time to clear my head, then i’ll be fine” Ophelia said simply, the fear of losing this was winning… For once she had no idea how she’d react, the pit she fell down before was so so dark, and the light of the surface was only just becoming visible again… She wasn’t sure if she would have the strength to climb out of it again if she fell back down into that dark void that threatened to cradle her very existence

A gentle warmth pressed against ophelia’s back. That warmth wrapped its arms around her waist and gently squeezed her “I… I don’t want to seem rude but, I overheard you talking” Ysayle said simply “I know it's not my place to ask but… It sounded like you were talking to someone” Ysayle traced a gentle circle around ophelia’s side as she spoke “Who was it?”

Ophelia fell silent for a short while. Stiff and rigid, like the very idea of an embrace was foreign and hostile to her body “Just an old friend” She smiled gently “Someone who’s helped me through the good and the bad, my mentor”

It was foreign at first… The unnatural sensation of being wanted, embraced in a loving way “Passing wise words onto me once again as i act foolishly”

“...I know it might be hard” Ysayle said softly “But i’ll be here for you” Her tone was quiet and loving “If the fear of losing me is too much to for you to bear then i’ll-”

Before she could continue, Ophelia interrupted “Don’t” Her hand reached to clutch ysayle’s. Desperate and shaky “Please…”

Ysayle smiled softly, gripping ophelia’s hand tightly “The gods themselves couldn’t tear me away from you” Her breath was cool against ophelia’s back “We can build something in that darkness” She said quietly “Until you’re strong enough to face whatever demons lurk in that darkness”

Ophelia smiled warmly as she heard ysayle speak… The fear never waned. Never faded… But it felt like that fear, no matter how big or justified it was. Simply didn’t matter, like a silly childish fear of something not even real

“And if whatever’s in that darkness is too strong to face alone? Then I'll face it with you” Ysayle said softly “I love you… And i’m not going to let you suffer alone”

Ophelia looked to her side. Just barely seeing the pale hue of ysayle’s hair “...Thank you” She said with a warm smile

Ysayle let out a small hum “Don’t thank me… If we want to make this work, we share our burdens. No matter how heavy they may be” She slowly let go “I may not be as physically strong as you… But I think I can carry some of that weight you have” She said with a smile. Looking into ophelia’s eyes and wrapping her arms around Ophelia once more.

“I want to make this work” Ophelia said gently. Hesitating for a moment, before wrapping her arms around ysayle “I… May not be very good at it though”

“Am I supposed to care?” Ysayle said with a small chuckle “You may not be good at it… Or you might be good, how are you to know a future you never dreamt of?”

Ophelia smiled. Resting her forehead against ysayles “I…” Her breath hitched as she found the courage to speak “I cherish you more than words could ever convey” She said softly

“I think a simple ‘i love you’ could suffice?” Ysayle said softly

Ophelia let out a gentle laugh “Then… I love you”

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv wol #ophelia de fortemps #writing #my writing #writing prompt #ysayle dangoulain #ysayle x wol #ophelia x ysayle

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the-haunted-office · 1 year ago

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send FORGED for a scene from my muse's past that they think made them stronger in the long run (for Thursday!)

Her mother was dead, and her body was sitting a few feet away from her. Lying there, actually, on the bed where she had been lying for the last three weeks of her life, immobilized by the cancer that had ultimately killed her. She'd died only a few hours earlier and while her brothers and even her step father had all left the room, Thursday hadn't been able to.

Some people from the funeral home were there to collect her body. They had her mother by the ankles and under the armpits, ready to move her, when one of them looks up. Says, "You might want to leave the room for this."

Thursday quietly shakes her head; say, "No"; doesn't move from her spot on the bed adjacent.

The funeral home employee doesn't say anything back to her, just goes along with her job, handling her mother's corpse that was breathing just a few hours before. Laughing just a few weeks ago. Up moving around a few weeks before that. Making plans for the summer months before that. Cooling and moving disjointedly now, only as it is manipulated by the strong hands of the gloved employees.

She watches as they transfer her mother to the gurney, strap her onto it, raise it, tilt it. Watches as her mother's head flops over on its neck, lifelessly, and for a ridiculous half second Thursday thinks it's going to hurt her, wants to leap up and tell them to be more gentle, but she doesn't. Why? She's dead. She can't feel anything anymore, not even her head flopping around like it's barely connected to the rest of her.

Thursday feels sickened, but she stops it right there. It has nowhere else to go, and it doesn't change anything. She stops it all, pushes it all down, because now isn't the time.

They begin hauling her mother down the stairs and Thursday follows, then cuts around them once they pause at the landing. She peeks her head around the corner, informs her brothers and step father and all the rest of the gawking family who have gathered to give their shallow condolences ("She's in a better place now. God needed her more in heaven." Fuck you and your god, Thursday thinks, but she never says it) that they're bringing her down.

They all turn away.

Thursday doesn't.

She walks with her mother to the hearse, watches as they load her in, drive off with her. The neighbors are watching too, but she doesn't notice. She goes back inside to listen with numb ears to more condolences from tone deaf tongues while her brother and step father sit there quietly.

The next time she sees her mother it's to inform the funeral director that the funeral will be closed casket. Her family is outraged, but her mother was a shy person in life. She wouldn't want people staring at her in death and she doesn't care what they think.

#cometcalloway #thursday (space au)#thank you for the ask! :3 #cw death #cw terminal illnes #cw graphic description of a dead body #cw religion #cw cancer

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undiscovered-horizon · 3 years ago

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Imagine being Doctor's companion and while he's away on some business, you meet two brothers in a similar line of work.

"Sammy, does that creepy statue seem weird to you?" Dean shone his flashlight on an angel chiseled in stone. The level of realism applied to the sculpture was oddly terrifying on its own but the fact that it hid its face in its hands was somewhat more unsettling. It was a weird find in a room with mirrors.

"You mean aside from being creepy?" Sam asked.

"I swear it looked different when we opened the door."

Sam gave Dean a weird look, which made his brother only shrug.

"Maybe you just remember it wrong." And with those words, Sam turned around and continued exploring the abandoned mansion. Dean mumbled something under his nose about definitely remembering right and was about to follow his brother, when a voice stopped him.

"Don't turn around!" you called out. "Keep looking at the statue."

"Why?" Dean's voice was hesitant. He didn't fully believe you.

"Because you are right, it did look different when you opened that door. But then you and your brother looked away, or worse, blinked."

The old floorboards creaked maliciously with every step you took. The air smelled stale as if something died inside those walls but it was so long ago both the house and the corpse forgot about it.

"Who are you?" A male voice asked from behind you. You heard the sound of a gun's hammer being pulled back.

"Someone who's seen those things before. I'm (Y/N) and my, uh, friend, takes care of similar things."

"Your friend is a hunter?" Sam continued questioning you.

"More of a doctor, really. Mending what's broken and making sure nothing gets broken further. Eyes on the statue!" you yelled out to Dean when you noticed he was turning his head to you. "And don't blink! Whatever happens, do not blink. Blink and you're dead."

"How do I not blink?!"

"It takes practice. When you opened the door, was there a mirror you moved?"

"How do you know that?" Sam's voice became more suspicious.

"Because someone deliberately trapped it here."

Without letting the angel out of your sight, you moved forward, towards Dean, and picked up the mirror. It must have fallen off the nail in the door, originally keeping it the line of sight of the statue.

"Alright big guy, slowly walk out of the room still staring at it."

Dean's eyes were watery and red. He really did try not blinking. When the two of you were behind the threshold, you quickly pulled the door shut. A heavy sigh of relief left your lungs.

"Okay, what was that thing?" Dean's gruff voice was perfectly paired with the gun he held. It was vaguely pointed at your abdomen.

"A weeping angel. Can't move if you stare at it and the mirrors are keeping it immobile."

"I've never heard of such a thing. Neither did the Men of Letters." Sam was ready to put a bullet in your head any second now. Those boys really weren't buying your story.

"Will you shoot me if I tell you it's alien?" you asked.

"Probably," Dean answered. His eyebrows were furrowed, expression cold. He must be a rough man.

"Alright, I know it's hard to take it but aliens are real. And that," You pointed at the door you just closed. "was one of the worse ones. If a weeping angel touches you, you get thrown back in time. No way to come back."

"Aliens and time travel? Really? And you want us to believe you?" Dean was getting closer to actually shooting you.

"I thought you believed in aliens," Sam turned to Dean in confusion. His brother rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, little green men, not a creepy-ass statue of an angel!"

"Wait, why are you guys here anyway? And with guns?" you asked the brothers. For a moment they gave each other weird looks as if trying to communicate.

"So, aliens are real," Sam began. "And so are ghosts. My brother and I, we hunt them."

You were going to answer him when a whirring noise not too far from you filled the silence of the old house. The sound was so familiar you couldn't help but smile. In the corner of the corridor, a blue box started to appear.

"Don't tell me you're an alien too," Dean said in a defeated voice.

"No, silly, he is."

Right then the door opened and a tall man in a suit looked out.

"(Y/N)! What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Helping!" You walked towards him. "Like we always do."

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ererokii · 4 years ago

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I came running when I saw your requests were open! Okay, this is pure angst so bare with me. How about the reader dying in all the chaos when Eren first attacked marley? She was Jean's best friend and so when they were in the airship he carried her corpse inside, and Eren sees her and Jean is like she died l, and its all your fault. You could make her die in battle or she could take the bullet for Sasha, its up to you! Im just curious of how Eren would behave... Thank you so much baby🥺 remember to take care and if you dont wanna write this there's no problem!!♡♡♡

WC: 1.1k

Warnings: character death, blood mentions, some violence, some spoilers for season four, unedited. Italics is flash back

“She’s dead. You killed her.”

It’s silent; enough to hear a pin drop. Jaws are dropped, mouths parted as they stare in shock.

Jean stands there, a body limp in his arms, a tear trickling down his face and onto the floor. “She’s dead, Eren.”

Even sits there, staring at him through brown tresses that cover the majority of his face. His brother, Zeke beside him, stares at Jean with a raised eyebrow, absolutely no empathy for him.

“You..you killed her.”

It seems that victory couldn’t even protect everyone in that ship. After you and Jean had aboarded and left someone out there to watch, you were immediately engulfed into a hug by him.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” he mutters, burying his head in the crook of your neck, arms practically squeezing the life out of you. In normal circumstances you would have laughed, pushed his face away from yours and told him he stunk.

But this was different.

Your arms loop under his own, head pressed against his chest plate. “I’m glad you’re alive too.”

Arms wrapped around your torso from behind, hair tickling your nape as the person let out a shaky breath.

“Y/N, I can’t thank you enough for being there when I shot at the Cart,” Sasha spoke quietly. “I was a bit scared if I’m being honest.”

“I was there!” Jean interrupts, pulling away from you as his arms cross over his chest, averting his eyes elsewhere. “I didn’t get my thanks..”

“Who needs you when we have Y/N?” She grins, moving around to wrap an arm around your waist. “She’s all I need to back me up, isn’t that right?”

Eren’s eyes watch as blood trickles down Jean’s arm, seeping into the black sleeve of the uniform, making a small puddle on the floor. His breathing becomes uneasy, fingers clenching around the bench he was sitting on.

His superiors and comrades are unable to move; the sound of Armin’s gun falling to the floor as he rushes to Jean; said boy lowering the body to rest on the floor. Mikasa follows suit, falling onto her knees as she grabs the left hand, shivers running up and down her arms.

Cold.

“If you didn’t do this, she wouldn’t be dead. Tell me, why is she dead, Eren?!”

I don’t know, don’t ask me, Eren thinks, wishing he could say those exact words.

But he can’t; all he can do is stare with semi wide eyes. His arms are restrained by the rope the Scouts put on him, two recruits pointing their guns at him. Despite having him on their side, there was still a fear within them that he would do something else.

“Answer me!”

“This is our first victory for the new Eldian Empire! Our first battle, and many more to come!” A crowd of soldiers raised their fists in victory, screaming at the top of their lungs as they felt like rulers; the only ones that mattered.

“Another one,” you mutter, rubbing your arm, massaging a sensitive area from when you crashed into the roof when the Beast threw rubble. “Just how many more..and will Eren still be there..”

“We seem to always follow Eren in the end. I don’t think he would be going anywhere,” jean comments, standing beside you as everyone walks towards the middle of the ship.

“Hey isn’t he still out there?” Connie asks, looking over his shoulder, staring at the open sliding door. “Should we check?”

“He’s fine. I didn’t see anyone out there when I was there.”

That’s not enough to convince Connie, his eyes still trained on the silver door but decides to shake it off, facing forward.

Everything feels too surreal right now. It’s serene; too peaceful after a massacre of Liberio’s people. Smiles and laughter are shared, everyone reuniting with their buddies, thankful they can take another breath.

However, your stomach churns, looking around a couple times before reaching your hand out, grabbing hold of Jean’s pinkie. There’s a creaking noise coming from the floor board, catching your attention.

“Jean, did you hear that?”

“No. Hey guys quiet down!”

Sasha must have heard it as well as she glances over her shoulder, a body rolling inside of the ship, a gun held close to their chest.

It happens all too slow. The child raises the gun, brown eyes full of anger stare Sasha down, her finger curling around the trigger. Her teeth are gritted as her brown strands stick to her face, small lacerations and dirt scratching at her visage.

“Sasha!”

Your body seems to move on it’s own, one foot in front of the other as your hands collide with her chest, applying force. She stares at you with warm yet wide eyes; body staggering backwards.

Jean’s words wrack every crevice of Erens mind; his voice increasing in volume.

She’s dead because of you. You killed her!

Eren’s mouth suddenly feels dry, tongue peeking out as he licks his lower lip, chewing on the inside of cheek as he exhales loudly, lowering his head in shame, afraid of the consequences.

“Did she have any last words.”

Regretting his choice of speech, Eren’s lower lips quivers, shoulders shaking slightly. With everyone’s eyes on him, he feels as if they’re staring into his soul, silently judging his choices (as some verbally let him know).

His heart is heavy as a noise leaves his mouth, nowhere near to a laugh, but not even close to a cry of sorrow. He feels like screaming until his throat is raw— to lock himself in a confined spot and to never be seen for the rest of his days on this hell on earth.

“If only you hadn’t gotten the Survey Corps involved with this, Y/N would still be alive, and would be able to see your sorry ass tomorrow in your jail cell. Maybe then she would be able to hold your hand, wouldn’t she.”

Mediterranean eyes that hold tears, glance over at your body once more. Your eyes are closed, cheeks suddenly hollowed. There’s a bandage wrapped around your torso, blood seeping through the white and drying as seconds pass.

Your whole body is relaxed , a trail of red stained on the corner of your lips.

Even with the recent tragic events, Eren can’t help but relax when he casts his gaze on your face. Something within him says that you wouldn’t blame him for the cause of your death, even if everyone else would.

But he can’t forgive himself.

“J-Jean,” you whisper, clutching weakly at his arm. “E..Eren..I want to see him..”

And all you wanted was to see him one last time— ,to spend your last breaths and tell him he wasn’t a monster.

He was just like you.

Human.

taglist: @sleepysnk @jaegerbombb @reddriot @kaqinq @kingtamakimurder @tamasoft @byougen @spike-this-ass @crimsonbows-and-arrows @thicmitten @eremiie @shisoaya @bakuhoesworld @sweetdanibear @jeanbabygirl @katsuhera @erenstars @novvabeam @basket-flower-chick @theycallmeleaf1 @simpingfor2dguys @murmikaa @izrers @panicatthe-crybaby (add yourself to the taglist HERE )

#Eren x reader #Eren Jaeger x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on Titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #attack on Titan imagines #shingeki no kyojin imagines #Eren Jaeger imagines #Eren imagines

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selfawarejester · 3 years ago

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So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

#halo #fred 104 #john 117 #kelly 087 #linda 058 #halo x reader #fred 104 x reader #john 117 x reader #kelly 087 x reader #linda 058 x reader #hope I got all their characters right!#I’ll add a read more later

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cheelduh · 3 years ago

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How to get Hit-listed by a Stonehide Lawachurl (High School AU!)

Part 6 of the highschool au

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Synopsis: Childe’s a menace to everyone when playing dodgeball. Even as his new girlfriend, you’re no exception to his affinity for raising hell during the most tranquil of circumstances.

Warnings: Swearing, bad humor, and absolutely horrid spelling mistakes.

Words: 5.3k

Note: Longest chapter yet sheeeesh 🗿

Negotiation is an art.

Childe, or "Tartaglia" has utilized the art of negotiations in his daily life. Whether that be scamming the ninth graders with fake weed, or convincing the teachers why he doesn't deserve detention for injecting random fluids from the chem department into the school's resident pet frog.

All in all, by becoming an expert in the field of negotiations, Childe is nothing if not a master, tongue silver and smooth as he takes on a new opponent.

Which is why he dutifully negotiates with you on this Monday morning in front of the History classroom, getting down on one knee and pulling out a—

"I hope to Barbatos you aren't proposing Childe," You hiss, panicked eyes landing on the velvet box he's pulling out. "Considering that we're sixteen and still in highschool."

As if remembering those meagre details, Childe gulps and shoves the box back into his pocket. "Uhhh yeah, I was just, tying my shoelaces?" It comes out as a question.

You let out a sigh of relief, overlooking how he undoes his shoe laces just to do them all over again.

The ring burns in his pocket as he gets back up.

"Why did you call me here?" You ask, hand on your hip, foot impatiently tapping. The tap tap tap isn't because of impatience though, it's because you need something to cover the nervous palpitations of your heart.

He gives you a vicious smile, sinister enough to shake the bones of anyone who's observing, opens his daring mouth to show the imaginary sharpness of his teeth. Then with the confidence of about a hundred shirtless tiktok boys, he finally demands:

"If you don't become my girlfriend, I will kill—"

"Yeah sure thing." You answer before he can finish, soft smile growing.

Childe chuckles evilly, "I knew you'd say that, but I've come prep—wait a minute." He snaps out of his villain origin phase, stumbles back a bit, then his eyebrows are furrowing in confusion. "Did you just say yes?"

You nod, cheeks flaring up. "Don't make me repeat it." Then you look away, too embarrassed to see his reaction.

For a second, Childe's internal conflict following the chain of this event causes him to temporarily malfunction, and all he can do it stare at you in amazement.

It's only when you tell him to stop staring and jump off the school roof is when he snaps out of his daze, a grin festering on his face.

He lunges straight at you, giving you no time to deflect him as he wraps his bone crushing arms around you, then lands a soft smooch on your forehead.

"Let go of me you idiot!" You barely wheeze out, light headed not only because of your lungs being squeezed like oranges, but also because of the sloppy kiss he's delivered so ungracefully.

He does so reluctantly, and you're unamused, wiping the stickiness off your forehead with a sleeve as he steps back.

"Ew what the fuck?" You say, glaring at him. "What's wrong with you?"

He completely ignores you, giddy with excitement. "Ah girly, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that. I can't wait to introduce you to my parents and eat lunch together and kiss each other during break—"

"Slow down." You tell him, as red as a tomato towards all his suggestions. "We've barely started dating."

"Oh," Childe stops momentarily, then nods in agreement. "You're right. We should start small. How about I walk you to class?"

"We're already in front of class." You nudge your head towards the classroom, and catch Zhongli and Venti peeking from the side of the door, trying not to be obvious.

You narrow your eyes at them threateningly.

Childe tugs your arm, lovingly looking you up and down. "Let's walk to class together anyways. In a circle."

A complete waste of time, yet it's impossible to say no to the face he's making.

Before you guys depart he suddenly stops, gasping loudly, remembers something important. "I have to make a quick phone call."

Childe speed dials Scaramouche, and the latter picks up annoyed, answers the phone with muffled sounds in the back. Something that sounds a bit like pleading and whimpering.

He then mutters something that forces dread into your system. "You can release the hostages."

You hear Scaramouche groan on the other end, muttering a "such a pain in my ass", but choose not to question it immediately.

As soon as the phone call is done and you're back by his side, you point at his phone questioningly. "What hostages Childe?"

He gives you a close eyed smile, taking the fifth.

"What hostages Childe?" You repeat again weakly.

—

First period goes by smoothly for the most part. Lisa, your so called best friend, once again is bought off like a corrupted politician by your new boyfriend. She sits far away from you, leaving you without any defences against the menace that dotes on you a bit too much.

Throughout class, all Childe does is score Venti's colourful pens, and then writes you annoying little love notes, using the expert origami skills he's learnt from Anthon to deliver them to you.

Despite the threat of distraction these notes pose, the corners of your lips can't help but tug upwards at his enthusiasm and attempt at poetry.

Zhongli makes sure not to ask you two any questions the entire class, leaving you to your own accord.

Lunch comes around soon enough, and your usual table of Diluc, Jean, Kazuha, and Lisa is disturbed by the torpedo that is Childe, and he brings collateral with him.

Kaeya whole-heartedly ceases the opportunity to sit near his stoic statue of a brother purely with the intention to annoy the premature crap out of him, but one look from the redhead sends the chicken-shit right back where he came from.

When Childe forcefu—lovingly feeds you the smiley fries and dinosaur nuggets his stunning mom packed him, Diluc looks just about ready to hurl.

Lisa winks at you two, Kazuha doesn't even bother looking, and Jean tries with upmost effort to keep Diluc from launching himself at the whipped fatui boy basking in your attention.

"Quit embarrassing me." You whisper-exclaim sharply, noticing how Jean passes Diluc—all green in the face, a puke bag discreetly. "Shouldn't you be doing something illegal right now? Or vaping in the stalls?"

"I quit vaping for you girlie." Childe boops your nose with his finger. "Well, at least full time. I still need a puff when I'm around Signora, to like, get rid of her awful vibes."

While it is endearing how he quit vaping for you, it doesn't lessen the need for you to bury yourself alive right here and now.

Then you sigh, pick up a Dino nuggie, and shove it in his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking your finger. You die inside.

"There, you happy?" The action of feeding him is so...intimate, it sets your heart aflame.

Childe's a lovesick puppy when he chews, imaginary tail wagging a hundred times a second. "Can I have a kiss too?"

Diluc slams his hands on the table and stands up, hurriedly picks up his grape juice and makes a break for it. You don't blame him.

"I'll kill you." You smack him with a napkin, blazing red. "I'll end your pathetic little life right here and now."

By the end of lunch, Lisa and Jean have to restrain you so you don't break the world record for the maximum amount of mutilations that can be done on a single body.

Fourth period is a break. A break from Childe you mean. It's expected of the school's resident bad boy aka menace to skip classes in order to skip over the bodies of his victims.

You bask in the momentary peace, until it's disrupted by a tap on the window. Reckon it's nothing, maybe a bird flew into it, because intentional taps are impossible from the third floor. Except your conviction is hindered yet again by another tap.

What a nuisance.

You finally turn to look outside the window, face down, and spot Childe waving incessantly, rocks in hand, oozing with excitement that can't be concealed and a grin that nearly takes you into cardiac arrest. Without meaning to, you send him a small smile, waving back as Baal drones on about quantum superposition.

Successful in gaining your attention, he moves aside to reveal the hefty corpse of a stonehide lawachurl with a destructive path in its wake. The ridges and bumps of its hide are enough to do a number on the road, ruining the school's playing field.

Your smile drops down into a horrified frown in the span of a few seconds.

"Wow." Albedo, your lab partner whispers from next to you, for the first time distracted in class.

"Yeah," Kaeya whistles from behind you two, one hand supporting his head. "What a gesture."

"Y/N, I'd be grateful if you could possibly obtain a black crystal horn for me from the specimen." The blonde asks, entranced by the corpse that your boyfriend is flaunting off to you with pride.

"Aren't those things endangered cutie?" Lisa makes sure to butt in, as per usual.

Yes. Your boyfriend with several issues and an affinity for chaos brought you the corpse of an endangered geo-infused creature that's five times the size of him. During school hours too, the fiend. Like a cat dragging the corpse of a dead mouse to its owner.

You groan into your hands, heart racing while the fire is coursing through your veins.

That idiot.

—

Childe is exceptional at a lot of things, like the switch and making weapons out of seemingly harmless things (e.g shiv out of a toothbrush), but what he prides in the most is physical education. With washboard abs, uber tall height, and a dickish smile to top it all, he has everything it takes to showcase his top tier athletic abilities.

He pounces at the opportunity to show off in front of you, wanting nothing more than to have you fawn over his strength. He's sure it'll be enough to have you all over him, wrapping your cute little arms around his muscled ones, passing him his water bottle and dabbing away at the sweat on his forehead. Most of all, he daydreams you planting your soft lips on his to congratulate him after a big game.

Physical education, for you, is a pain. You may be good with your brain, but games exert more energy than necessary, and coordination that lacks logic entirely. You're just here for the credit. The over-achiever part of you walks the extra mile to ensure a grade in the high nineties.

Although witnessing Childe clad in the school shorts and matching polo shirt is enough to make this worth your while, you'll die before admitting it. Especially when he gawks at you as if it's the first time you're wearing the sports uniform yourself. It has you fidgeting with your fingers and tugging your shorts down nervously.

You try not to flip him off like you usually do, especially since it's not even been twenty four hours since he's asked you out.

Mr.Zhongli blows a whistle, calling all the students over to surround him. It's odd that he teaches most of the subjects at this school, seemingly the only adult present, but no one questions it in fear of genshin logic. Moving on, he explains that you have a dodge ball game today.

Lisa groans beside you. She hates anything that requires the exertion of energy, oftentimes bringing a book to read while everyone else screams in the background.

You're relieved, mainly because Childe and Tohma are usually captains, and Childe always picks you to be on his team as a means to flex his skills. For you, it means sitting back and watching him carry your team towards a straight A.

However, all your dreams are crushed when Zhongli announces the team leaders.

"Y/N, I trust that you'll lead the blue team to the upmost of your ability. Childe, prepare to lead the opposing red team."

Your knees shake as you stare at him in disbelief. "But Sir—"

"No buts Y/N." He scolds you lightly, checking off your names on the clip board. "I'd like to witness your exceptional leadership skills."

In reality, Zhongli just wants to reenact a lovers-on-opposing sides trope, wanting to see how the two of you crack under the pressure. In a way, it is an exercise of leadership.

Instead of picking teams, Zhongli assigns teams for the both of you according to his own judgement, trying to make it as fair as possible.

Lisa pats your back after your teammates are assigned, trying to cheer you up. "It's going to be okay. You guys are dating now, so he'll go easy on you."

You look up to meet Childe's eyes from across the court. He gives you a charming smile, which turns downright barbaric as he lifts up a thumb and motions to slash his neck with it. Then he wickedly mouths "I'm going to destroy you."

You blink and turn away as fast as you can in fear. "We're fucked."

Lisa, witnessing the entire ordeal nods alongside you, doing nothing to reassure you because she herself has given up.

Suddenly a hand lands on your shoulder gripping you tightly. "Let's wipe the floor with that g*nger." The voice is ice cold, threatening enough to send a shiver down your bones.

You turn to meet Rosaria, who frowns at you. Most of the time she doesn't really put an effort in dodgeball, but she must've seen your crestfallen expression, trying to comfort you in her own detached way.

Rosaria is the other school nurse in training, alongside Barbara, but somehow her patients end up more injured, sick, or mentally defiled than before they entered the room. She also spends after hours beating up Chads in the school parking lot. Also runs a blog with her booby co-author Kaeya that emphasizes mostly on the dark knight hero.

Spotting the rest of your team behind her, you begin to criticize them one by one.

Standing against the wall is Kaeya, pushing both his biddies up with his crossed arms like an absolute whore. He's breaking about several dress code rules right now. Venti is next to him, drunk off his butt as he beat boxes with Tohma.

Eula mutters under her breath, on and on about seeking revenge on Zhongli for putting her beloved Amber on the opposing team, promising him an unfortunate fate. Xiao is miserably squatting on the floor, sharp eyes observing everyone in the gym, scowl not ready to dissipate anytime soon.

Then you look over at Childe's team in the distance. Jean with a determined look on her face as she listens to Childe's game plan, and Diluc crossing his arms with his brows furrowed in concentration. Even Amber, the best baller in the school, is stretching out her arms, assisted by the gifted princess of the school, Ayaka.

Not only that, but Childe has the king of dodging on his team—Kaedehara goddamn Kazuha. Beidou shoots you a wicked smirk, winking at you until she's disrupted by Ningguang's shove.

"Oh my god." You cry out when the realization hits you, falling to your knees in despair. "We're completely fucked!"

"No we aren't." Rosaria mutters lowly. "You're only fucked if you want to be. Don't you dare throw in the towel before the fight has even begun."

"But I—"

"Stop it." She grumbles again, rolling her eyes. "You're being annoying now. If you lose the game, that makes him the dom. Don't you want to be the dom?"

She's right. You do want to be the dom.

Her words of encouragement, and not at all veiled insults somehow allow you to find motivation deep within yourself. You get up and stomp towards the rest of your team, calling their attention with your newfound confidence.

"Listen here soldiers!" You shout out, determination clear as day. "I know I am not capable of leading. I know that I barely have the physical capabilities needed to defeat the opposite team."

You take a deep breath, pointing at your cutie patootie boyfriend across the gym as you seethe. "But that man, that harbinger of chaos, that instrument of war, is nothing but a tyrant. And I cannot let such a tyrant be a victor in this battle. Not when innocent lives are at stake."

Tohma speaks up, sending you a bewildered look. "What lives—"

"Shut the fuck up soldier!"

"Yessir!" He immediately stiffens, saluting you.

"Are you ready soldiers?" Your voice booms, and everyone reinforces their priorities, except for Kaeya though. He just lazily smirks.

After Zhongli places the balls in the middle, everyone prepares for the battle of the century.

'Gods, please let us win this war' you pray to the archons above, closing your eyes in concentration.

'Give me the strength to flex my superior skills' Childe wishes, then adds on quickly 'also I want to dominate this world.'

'Give me the strength to make it to Friday.' Rosaria prays for nobody but herself, rolls her eyes at all the unnecessary dramatics of this dodgeball game.

"3..." "2..." "1..."

Zhongli ends the countdown by blowing hard into a whistle, signaling the beginning of the game.

Not even two seconds later a ball whooshes past a few of you at the speed of light, followed by a tail of fire. The ball of death kisses Kaeya square in the nose, sending him reeling back into a wall with enough sheer force to cause an indent.

Everyone winces.

Before you all can reel in from the initial shock and make sense out of wherever the hell that asteroid came from, Zhongli's voice booms throughout the gymnasium.

"Mr. Ragnvindr, headshots are strictly forbidden. You are out!"

With a scoff, Diluc, satisfied with his work, leaves the court with no apparent qualms. He accepts his defeat with the upturned corners of his lips.

Rosaria pokes Kaeya's body with the tip of her heels, then cringes when he shakes awake, up from his short lived knockout and sends a wink her way.

"Getting handsy when I'm unconscious? I didn't think you'd be one to partake in such vulgar activities." His eye twinkles in mischief, and if his momentary defeat at the hands of brother has him fuming, he doesn't show it one bit.

The only thing that keeps Rosaria from knocking him out for real is the blood that trails down onto his lip. She doesn't want to clean blood off her shoes, especially since it's a pain in the ass to get off.

You're about to tell them to get up and take this seriously, but a softball does your job for you when it darts straight at Rosaria. With pristine accuracy, the girl manages to pitch herself away last minute.

You swivel in Childe's direction, who wears a remorseless grin, which only grows wider once you pick up a blue softball next to your feet.

The glare that he receives has him shaking in exhilaration. More so than the elation he'd felt when he took down that Stonehide Lawachurl for you, as a gift of promise.

You begin to bark out orders. "Eula, Xiao, and Rosaria cover the front and act as decoys."

They nod immediately, but Xiao still clicks his tongue in distaste as he starts following orders.

Then you offer Kaeya a hand. "Get up princess. You're on sniper duty."

With Diluc out of commission, the battle is fair and square now considering both sides have the same amount of people. Ergo, no one's at a disadvantage.

That is—until Lisa fake trips over pure air, landing on the floor in a dramatic slow motion.

You roll your eyes.

"Oh dear! I think I've twisted something." She cries out, crawling away from the battle field, acting as if she's paralyzed completely. "Don't worry about me. I'll cheer you on from afar. The battle has begun, and it seems as if I've become the first casualty."

You don't let the countless amount of Lisa's betrayals get to you, even this one. It's just her personality to flake out on anything and everything that requires her to do more than below the bare minimum.

Focusing on the match, your eyes are only on Childe, just as his are on you.

You aim the ball straight at his ribs, step back a bit, then propel the ball in the air with as much energy as you can, using your entire body as a power outlet. The ball spins in the air, reaching the awaiting victim.

Childe, unbothered, dodges the ball with perfect precision, the ball not even grazing his clothes at the least.

Your jaw drops open, and you're about to move for another ball until he grabs the same ball you threw at him. With the sharpness of a predator locking in on its pray, he focuses on you like a missile locks on its target, launching the ball in the air for power that has you trembling, second to the powerful ball that was thrown by Diluc.

With your pupils dilated at your impeding doom, it's Xiao that grabs you and thrusts away.

The ball lands on the floor, smoke rising.

"Holy shit!" You shriek over everyone else's grunts and shuffles. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Isn't it poetic?" Childe shouts back while he slides away from the balls being thrown. "Lover against lover. Either you're by my side, or in my way. And right now, you're in my way." He narrows his eyes dangerously. "Albeit reluctantly, I will take the victory babe. Even if we are on opposing sides."

"There was zero reluctance in that throw asshole!"

You thank Xiao, who wipes his hands on his pants in disgust. "Filthy humans. So pathetic and weak."

Mildly offended, you roll your sleeves up and begin to fight with everything you've got as soon as he walks away.

The dodgeball game goes as expected for the most part, Eula carrying for most of it with the flow of her skills.

Tohma actually tries like the presumptuous asshole he is, aims straight for his girlfriend Ayaka, and takes her out completely. His only justification for that is "I ain't no simp!"

He shelves his cocky attitude when facing Childe with a sense of dignity and prestige you didn't think he had in him.

The two one of a kind fuckbois puff out their chests so that they look more hefty than they are, having some kind of an Alpha match. The 'me stronger than you. me dominant. me get all the women' type beat.

Unfortunately, Childe manages to fence him with his throws, and lo and behold, the square off ends with a dejected Tohma dragging his feet to the nearest bench.

Eula oversees that Ningguang and Beidou meet a quick end, taking their slower dodging to her advantage. You're actually rooting for her, tasting a sliver of victory that you haven't reached yet. So close, yet so far.

Amber trips on herself in the middle of throwing a what should've been coordinated ball, and it loses most of its momentum. Xiao is directly in front of it, and will probably be able to catch it with ease.

Ah, another short victory.

If Childe loses his expert baller, he's only left with Kazuha and Jean, whom's lack in the art of throwing is made up by their ability to dodge most of the fastballs.

However, all your plans and hopes are crushed when Eula slides in front of Xiao last minute, sticks out her foot, and let's the pathetic product of Amber's would-be downfall hit her on the leg with the total force of about 0.0000001 newtons.

Your chances of winning have just went down by a staggering 60%.

"Eula!" You cry out, collapsing on the ground. "How could you?"

Tohma cups his mouth and bellows obnoxiously from the bench. "SIMP!"

"I cannot avenge my clan if I win a false victory." Eula crosses her arms, casting her gaze down in visible uncomfortableness. "Amber will pay her dues in two business days. Mark my words."

It all a load of cap. She's sleeping with the enemy and you know it.

You grit your teeth. Fuming with an abundance of rage, you pick up three balls and throw them all back to back, taking out Amber and Kazuha simultaneously.

Childe's heart flutters in another kind of delight when you pluck out his team members one by one with no hints of remorse.

In retaliation, Jean and Childe work in sync to swiftly take care of a distracted Rosaria.

"Shit." You hiss underneath your breath.

It's Venti, Kaeya, Xiao, and you who are the only remainders of your short-lived team. It's still two more people than Childe and Jean, giving you the upper hand briefly.

It's a mystery to everyone how Venti is still standing. You reckoned you would've lost him as collateral during the beginning of the match, but it seems he's able to hold his own.

When you squint hard enough, you realize that Xiao has been t-posing in front of the nonchalant SoundCloud rapper that's about as high as a kite. He must've been defending him throughout the entire round.

His defenses are all in vain once Childe correlates another attack with Jean, sharp-shooting four rapid balls that are secured on their targets.

Xiao swerves to the side, avoiding most of them, until one is about to reach a nonchalant as shit Venti.

You scream at him, eyes widening as you run towards them in slow motion. "NOoOoOOOo-"

The yaksha doesn't waste a moment, shifting so that he's covering Venti's body with his own, which to be honest is a pretty heartwarming sight.

The ball hits his lean back, a sharp thud following when it hits the floor.

Xiao is out. But his sacrifice is so inspiring that it brings tears to Zhongli's eyes, makes everyone in the gym go silent in awe.

Even the sadistic Childe melts, cerulean eyes gaining back their light, halting his fire.

When Xiao finally uncovers Venti's body, he speaks from the bottom of his dead heart. "I'd do anything for you..."

Venti shakes out of his baked state, blinking at him stupidly with a nervous chuckle. "Ehe~? I don't even know who you are."

The entire class sweat drops. Whatever slip of compassion on Childe's face earlier has become nothing but a memory. Even your eyes dim.

The next time Childe aims and locks at Venti, it's not with malicious intent. It's a favour, for you. In a way it adds dimension to who he is and the lengths he's willing to go for you, even at war.

Venti steps away with a bounce in his gait, hands behind his head.

Kaeya and you are the only ones left standing now, and the game becomes too tight knit to tell which side's going to win. It becomes utter chaos, balls being launched every second, stamina slowly decreasing as everyone lurches away from their demise.

As laid-back and charming as the boy presents himself to be in front of the ladies, he's not very patient when it comes to facing circumstances like these. He's side lined for most of the match, finding it boring. And when Kaeya gets bored, the intensity of the tide changes, and everyone knows they're going to get a run for their money.

Kaeya coasts a hand around your hips, pulls you real close, purposefully leaning his bust into the side your innocent arm.

When Childe's smile drops, and the glint in his eyes reads 'DANGER' in full caps, you know it's time to be properly scared.

Your blood runs cold, mouth opening briefly and then clamping shut immediately.

"I'm so glad to be on your team Y/N. Maybe this'll give us the chance to become...closer." His hot breath fans against your ear, voice loud enough to be heard by onlookers.

Suddenly everything stops, falling into an unsettling silence.

You attempt glance at Childe, being met with a glare that's directed at the Captain of the Skating team. The ball in the orange-haired boy's hand deflates from the sheer intensity of the squeeze.

The tension becomes unreadable. Even Zhongli is caught mid-sip with his tea.

Quickly, you shrug off Kaeya's arm. "Childe, he's just fucking with you—"

Childe cuts you off by hurling a ball with nothing but the objective of cold blooded murder.

Kaeya whizzes past you, successfully ducking to avoid the hit, and his amused laugh rings through your ears. He rolls away from the following attacks, chucking his own series of colourful balls.

The events that unfold are blood-curdling enough to make even Satan boil his pants with diarrhea.

You take the clear opportunity presented by their concurrent dumbassery to take out Jean, the ace of the other team.

Childe's rage blows over when Kaeya eventually loses interest and takes the L, playfully winking at you while walking backwards to the rest of your team.

Now that all the distractions are dealt with, Childe's eyes flicker to you, and you share a murderous glance.

"Finally," He slaps the softball with a free hand, lips thinning into a homicidal smile. "I've been waiting for this. You better not disappoint me."

While Childe may be a violent anarchist who's only aspiration in life is to become a government contracted killer, he's also supposed to be your sweet boyfriend.

Slowly, you inch towards the front. "We don't have to do this Childe. We can coexist peacefully."

"Peace was never an option Y/N." He sighs, cracking his neck. "Besides—how else can I prove myself in your eyes? You may be my greatest weakness, but you are also my greatest adversary."

"I don't know, maybe start with not trying to obliterate me?"

"I'm obliterating you out of respect." He counters with a playful pout.

"Well I'll be paying my respects to your grave!" You lurch ahead into a sudden assault, yeeting as many balls as you can his way.

"That's my girl!" Childe whistles, grin widening psychotically when he goes all out, leaving you with an absence in favorable openings.

Out of nowhere, the fire alarms start going haywire, along with a beep in the PA system, which stops you two in your tracks.

A panicked voice of who you assume to be Yanfei shrieks through the comms. "CODE ORANGE! CODE ORANGE! EVACUATE THE BUILDING, THERE'S A STONEHIDE LAWACHURL ON THE PREMISES."

As if on cue, the ground starts rumbling and a Stonehide Lawachurl bursts through the halls and into the gym, looking around for something. Or rather, someone. It's sharp bumps and ridges make an indent on the floor, cracking it in.

Everyone falls into a state of panic, Zhongli trying his best to evacuate the class from the emergency back door as quickly as possible. "Settle down class, we have to follow protocol."

You, devoid of any emotion or sense of fear, turn to your boyfriend in such a calm manner it strikes an ominous dread in his stomach.

You stare.

Childe stares harder.

“I thought you killed it."

"I did." He retorts slowly, switching to gaze at the raging beast in amazement.

"Then why is it in the school!" You seethe, glaring daggers at his side profile.

Childe chuckles sheepishly, scratches the back of his neck. "I may or may not have stuffed the body in the boys washroom. Y'know, for safe keeping?"

The Lawachurl locks it's gaze on you, the prey, and then roars furiously. Turning into its geo-enhanced state, it begins charging at you with all its might, the target being solely Childe.

Leave it to your boyfriend to get on the hit list of an endangered beast.

"Fear not my vibrant girlfriend. Our first date can be surviving this." Childe cheekily kisses the top of your trembling hand before grasping it tightly and making a run for it.

#childe #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #genshin childe #genshin albedo #genshin #tartaglia #childe tartaglia #zhongli #xiao #tohma #diluc ragnvindr #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin tartagalia #tartagalia genshin impact #eula x amber #venti x xiao

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Text

Scientia Potentia Est (Adrenaline Junkie Part 10)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: slight PTSD, mentions of death/dying, some description of injury/scars, slight panic attack

Word count: 2,734

(A/N): how are yall liking the story so far?

You were woken up by the obnoxious chirping of various songbirds right outside your window. Cracking open your heavy eyes, you glanced at the clock on your wall. 7 AM. You only got about an hour of sleep. Great.

Groaning, you reluctantly left the beckoning warmth of your comfortable blanket cocoon and stretched out your limbs. You stood up and trudged towards your luggage that laid haphazardly in the corner of your childhood room. Awkwardly twisting your body around to take off the sensors attached to your back and sliding off the prosthetic, you put it on your bed. Pulling out a random shirt and pants without giving them any real thought, you shambled off to the bathroom to shower and preen your wing.

You stood under the warm running water for a while just doing nothing but trying to wake yourself up. The steam drifted idly throughout the room as you stepped out of the shower and finished your morning routine. You still felt dead inside even after your refreshing shower. Is this what Philza felt like in the mornings? Is this what death feels like? Oh wait. You already knew what dying felt like, you’ve died twice already and you had the scars to prove it.

The scar on the right side of your back remained prominent and very noticable, but it faded slightly around the edges. The other scar that stretched across your cheek and stretched down to your stomach was new. They were red and raised. You remembered how you got them like it was yesterday. You, your brothers, your nephew, and Tubbo were following Eret still celebrating your win. You all completely trusted him, he was your teammate after all. Trusting him was a mistake. It was foolish. That power hungry bastard blew up everything you and your brothers built and worked for. He was a traitor to L’manberg. Everyone present lost a life in the explosion.

You shuddered, remembering the explosion. You remembered the feeling of extreme heat on your skin and the deafening boom that left a ringing in your ears. You remembered laying on the ground several feet away from your brothers’ corpses. You were the last to die that day. Everything hurt as you laid there slowly bleeding out from the deep gash running from under your eye to your midsection. The plumes of smoke floated up towards the sunny sky as everything burned around you. You hoped you would suffocate from smoke inhalation before you would bleed out again. The flames licked at your skin, almost taunting you with your oncoming death. Why couldn’t you have died instantly like everyone else? Why did you always have to die painfully?

A soft knock snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking down, you realized that you were clutching the side of the sink so hard that your knuckles were turning white.

“(Y/n), are you in there?” It was Arthur. What was he doing up so early?

You wiped at the tears that had gathered in your eyes and cleared your throat. “Y-yeah buddy. I’ll be out in a second.”

You turned on the water faucet and splashed some cold water in your face. It somewhat worked for the blotchiness and redness, but your eyes were still puffy. You were just going to have to get out of the bathroom and pray that Arthur and Philza won’t notice. You took a deep breath and opened the door. There Arthur stood looking at you happily.

“What’re ya doing up so early bud?”

“My brother said that I’m a morning person.”

Brother?

Despite your confusion, you did your best to grin at him. “Well, early bird, do you wanna help me make breakfast?”

His eyes lit up with excitement and he jumped up and down slightly. “Yes please! I love cooking, Mama and Papa would always let me help!”

Oh, you absolutely hated not knowing something. You needed to have that chat with him as soon as you could.

You smirked. “C’mon then, lets go get started!”

He sprinted down the hallway and towards the stairs. You felt a slight panic flare up inside of you. “Arthur, please don’t run down the stairs!”

To your great relief, he listened and slowed down to a brisk walking speed. You speedwalked over to him. For someone so little, he was surprisingly fast. By the time you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was already in the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Philza was sitting at the table with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. As per usual, he looked like he’d rather go back to sleep. You walked over to the coffee maker and poured yourself a cup, you were going to need it. Philza’s tired eyes followed you as you poured the steaming liquid into your mug.

“Tired?” His voice was raspier and deeper than usual.

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night.” You sipped at the bitter drink before wrinkling your nose and stirring in an ungodly amount of sugar. Sipping it again, you sighed in content. That was much better.

You walked to the chest and pulled out some bacon strips, eggs, and bread. Setting them on the counter, you turned to Arthur. He was standing on his tiptoes trying to clearly see over the counter. You chuckled, pulling a chair out from the table and dragging it over to him so he could stand on it.

“Don’t get too excited kid, we have to wash our hands first. Then we can get to the fun part.”

Arthur scrambled over to the sink, pulling his chair along with him. Though he was extremely excited, he actually took the time to properly wash his hands. Once you both were clean, you both got to cooking. You let him scramble the eggs and butter the toast while you did the rest of the work. You didn’t want him to get burned, especially by the bacon grease.

Cooking was quickly done with Arthur’s help and before you knew it, breakfast was already halfway done. Over the course of eating, Philza was slowly waking up and adding his own input into the conversation. You were hardly paying attention when Arthur asked you a question.

“Hey, (y/n), where’s your wing?”

“Hm?”

“The fake one.”

Your eyes widened. Shit, you forgot to put it back on after your shower. You suddenly felt every single little touch on your amputated wing. The chair, a light breeze from the open window, the brush of feathers from your complete wing, everything. You felt vulnerable and naked without it on. You felt powerless.

“Oh, I- must’ve forgot to put it back on again. Excuse me.”

You stood up from your chair, a screech resounding from the legs scratching against the floor. Taking care of your half-eaten breakfast, you tried to hurry up to your room as fast as you could scolding yourself the entire way for being so forgetful. So stupid.

You locked the door behind you and saw your silver wing laying on your bed staring at you, as if taunting you for leaving it behind. You rushed to put it back on. Though you felt your muscles tense up because of the sudden cool, it felt incredibly relieving to have your wing back on. You felt whole.

You awkwardly twisted around to fasten the leather belts around the base of your amputated wing and attach the sensors back onto specific spots on your back where your flight muscles were. You put one on your deltoid, one on your trapezius, one on both teres muscles, one on your infraspinatus, and lastly two on your latissimus dorsi muscle. It usually took you at least thirty minutes of testing the prosthetic’s movements and moving the sensors around slightly to get the placement of the sensors exactly correct, so you assumed that breakfast was over and done with ten minutes ago.

Your wing was finally connected and fully functional, so you left your room in search for Arthur. You eventually found him in the basement in your old workshop looking through your filing cabinet of blueprints. He mustn't have heard you come down the stairs because he didn’t react. He just kept looking through your old papers, pulling a few out and putting them on a nearby crafting table.

“Arthur?”

He jumped, the paper he was in the middle of pulling out slipped back into its place inside the filing cabinet. He didn’t turn around to face you at first, so you thought that he was just trying to catch his breath from your little scare. Feeling bad, you walked closer and put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. What’re ya doin?”

“I-I’m looking at your old inventions, Philza let me come down here to look at them while he tried to find me more clothes I could wear that fit.”

“Buddy, you should’ve waited until I put my wing back on, I could’ve shown you my prized inventions.”

He looked down to his feet. “I’m sorry (y/n), I just really wanted to see them and you were taking so long. I couldn’t wait.”

You frowned, putting a finger under his chin and making him look at you. You saw guilt darkening his eyes. “Arthur, never say sorry for wanting knowledge. Knowledge is perhaps our greatest weapon against the unknown in the universe. I want you to remember the phrase ‘scientia potentia est’.”

He sniffled. “Scientia… potentia est?”

“Yes, it means ‘knowledge is power’. Knowledge and power are two very… wide subjects, which is why I like the phrase. In a way, it means that you could pull off anything with knowledge. A lot of inventors live by that motto. Personally, it’s a motto that I swear by. Having knowledge gets me out of a lot of sticky situations,” you kindly smiled at him. “Now, do you want me to show you how my prosthetic works? I could even show you the first prototype if you’d like.”

To your delight, the smile that you often saw him wearing quickly returned and he nodded vigorously. You could get used to people wanting to know how your inventions work and why they worked the way that they did. You spent the next two hours explaining and answering questions about your prosthetic. You let him hold and examine your old leather wing. You showed him how the sensors were placed and warned him that if they were even very very slightly off, the wing wouldn’t work right. You even let him craft a sensor with you.

“So, do you have any interest in being an inventor when you grow up?”

“Yes, I wanna be just like you! You’re like, the bestest inventor ever!”

You took a deep breath, kneeling in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “Arthur, would you like to become my protégé?”

He scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes in confusion. “Your what?”

You lightly laughed. “Do you know what an apprentice is?” He shook his head. “Well, I want to take you under my wing. Teach you everything I know.”

His eyes comically stretched and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. If it were possible, you’d imagine stars shining in his eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Naturally. You’re perhaps the most ambitious person I’ve ever met in terms of your goals, and at such a young age too. I’ve never met anybody besides fellow innovators that actually wants to know how my inventions are made. It’s refreshing in a sense. Would you accept me being your mentor?”

“I- yes! Yes, yes! A million, no, a billion times yes! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He cheered, squealing with delight and jumping up and down.

You laughed. “Woah there bud, cool your jets. We have work to do, but first…” you sighed. You really didn’t want to ruin his moment, but you needed to talk to him about this if he were to become your apprentice.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes still wide with excitement. “First what?” “First… we need to talk. About your story, I mean.”

“What do you mean? We are talking.”

“No, not like that. We need to talk about your family. And how you want me to help you with The Warden.”

He visibly deflated, you didn’t think it was possible for someone to change moods so quickly. It was almost unnatural how fast he switched emotions. “Oh… Do we have to?”

“Yes, Arthur. We have to trust each other if we’re gonna work together.”

He shifted on the balls of his feet and fiddled with his thumbs. He looked very anxious to talk about his family.

“If you want, I can show you where I go to relax and think. Would you like that?”

He nodded and wiped at his eyes. You grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs. Since Philza was out, you wrote him a little note and put it on the table where he should see it right away if he came back before you two. You grabbed your satchel and filled it with two glass vials of water, a few snacks, and a blanket. Arthur just stared at you confusedly.

You led him outside and hesitated. Should you ask him if he wanted to fly? It would be a lot faster to get there. “Arthur, would you like to fly there? I know it’s scary, but once you get used to it it’s so much fun!”

He reluctantly nodded, so you bent over and wrapped your arms around him to pick him up. You felt him tense up as you prepped for take off. “Hold on tight, I promise I won’t drop you.”

You pushed yourself off from the ground with a powerful flap of your wings causing Arthur to shriek in surprise. You and Arthur shot into the sky at a moderate speed. When you steadied yourself high above the treeline, you looked down at the boy in your arms. He had his eyes tightly closed and he was shaking slightly. “Arthur, you can open your eyes now.”

You watched as he peeked one of his eyes open and looked at you, you smiled encouragingly at him. “Go ahead, look around.” He observed his surroundings with caution before he opened his other eye. He was looking around in amazement, taking in every single detail from a bird’s eye view. You snorted before redirecting your attention back to flying. You needed to pay attention, especially when you had a passenger that would carry on your legacy after you die.

The flight went by with Arthur giggling at various mobs below and sometimes pointing out something he thought was interesting to you. Your destination was now several meters ahead of you. Landing, you set Arthur down steadying him when he stumbled a little.

You took out the blanket and spread it across the grassy ground, smoothing it out. You beckoned Arthur to sit down next to you on it and you two overlooked the boundless expanse of the grassy plains.

“This is where I came up with most of my inventions. It’s where I first tested my prosthetic. There’s where I jumped off.”

“How’d you know it worked?”

“I didn’t before I tested it. Looking back, it was stupid of me to do. Never, ever, do what I did.”

“What if-”

“No what if’s. Consult me before you test out anything dangerous in the future. I mean it, Arthur.”

“But I want to be like you.”

“Trust me kid, you don’t wanna be exactly like me. Besides, you’re you. You’re not (y/n) Minecraft. You’re Arthur Fox. You’re your own person and it’s important for you to understand that. Never let anyone take that away from you.”

He fell silent as he contemplated your words. You assumed that nobody’s ever told him that before, both due to his young age and potential lack of adult figures in his life.

“Artie, you can tell me about your life when you’re ready. Take as much time as you need, we still have half the day left before we have to start heading back.”

He wordlessly nodded, turning his gaze to stare blankly past the cliff. In the meantime, you would wait patiently until he felt comfortable telling you.

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cassanovancats · 3 years ago

Text

felicitate. nine.

eight < current > ten

Dec. 24, 2017

You make yourself comfortable on the rooftop, debating if you should go ahead and text your brother. He would be almost as disappointed as you were; Satoru had taken to calling himself the captain of your ship with Yuta and Toge, even coming up with a nickname that incorporated shortened versions of all three names. You sigh, deciding it’s probably best to not text him. He’s likely already worried about leaving you in charge, no need to add a worry about something that isn’t deadly.

A sudden yell disrupts your thoughts and you jump into position, nocking an arrow and aiming towards the scream. You hitch your breath at the sight: Geto is striding into your school alone, leaving a trail of headless assistants behind him. One of the bodies is familiar and you recognize her as the assistant that gave you chocolate with a bright smile after a mission with unfortunate timing left you covered in curse blood and your own. She didn't flinch or offer pity - just a single chocolate kiss. Now she is covered in gore and blood, her previously pristine white shirt coated with her own brain matter.

You feel your resolve hardens. Geto is a curse-user, a human at his core, but he also is a monster. The arrow flies an accurate course but the man dodges, leaving it to embed itself into the wall instead of his torso. He turns to your rooftop, calling out, “Ah, (y/n)! And here I thought your brother would lock you in a tower.” Geto unleashes a grade-one curse that looks similar to a wolf and sends it after you. He is infuriatingly unbothered by your presence and continues his steady gait into the school grounds.

You start running across the rooftops, jumping over gaps and dodging the curse’s attempts to bite you. The rooftop tiles bite into your hands and knees. It faintly registers that a nail broke when you almost missed a jump, narrowly avoiding falling to the ground.

Satoru didn’t say how long to keep this secret, but you assume now is a good time to give Maki and Yuta a heads-up. You spot Maki stepping away from a classroom, so you run there, drawing the curse after you. On the roof next to where she stands, you plant your feet and turn, suddenly drawing your katana and slicing at the wolf. It draws back, avoiding your attack before lunging suddenly. Its claws sink into your leg. You cry out in pain, falling to your knees. When the curse lunges again, this time aiming for your throat, you fall on your back and thrust your blade into its stomach. You force the blade down its body with a grunt, disemboweling the creature. The teeth around your throat loosen, but the dead weight of the curse dropping on you prevents you from getting up immediately. Guts slide out and onto you and you suppress a gag. You feel a lot like Carrie on prom night.

When you finally stagger to your feet, you see Maki has engaged Geto in a fight that she’s obviously losing. You cry her name and rush to her side. She doesn’t get a chance to acknowledge you as Geto, in one fluid moment, breaks her weapon and sends her flying. She falls to the ground as a ragdoll, bleeding heavily from her side and head. You watch her body land, horrified, before you’re snapped back into the fight rudely.

Geto is now the closest to you he’s been since you were a child, frightened and unable to communicate with the people around you. He feels some long-forgotten sense of pity as he slides the blade of his knife further into your stomach. “W-wh-?” You look at the handle sticking out of your body curiously, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. The pain hasn’t begun to register but your body understands that you are unable to fight. You faint, missing the entrance of Panda and Toge by a few precious seconds.

When Yuta comes out from the classroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. He felt a few earthquakes and thought it best to find you and Maki to wait out any aftershocks together. Yuta was sure it was to be a little awkward after his rejection, but also wanted to be sure you were okay. He didn’t expect to find you covered in blood, the same cute gym clothing you were wearing that morning when he rejected you ruined. A quick glance around and he sees the rest of his classmates, his friends, in similar form. Inumaki is clinging to consciousness.

Geto, the one who grabbed Yuta months earlier, stands surrounded by the bodies, hardly winded. “I truly wanted you to live, Okkotsu, but this is for the future of jujutsu.” Yuta wonders how he can fight this man. How can he protect his friends, the only ones to give him a chance since Rika, when Geto already destroyed the strongest people he knew. He was so, so weak compared to each of them.

Inumaki desperately calls a slurred version of his name and says, “Run away.” The fact that the command does nothing, that Yuta feels nothing, breaks him from his spiral. He summons Rika in a rage.

“I am going to kill you!” He declares. Yuta doesn’t think he has ever felt such anger and despair, the feeling of watching Rika die now multiplied by four.

Geto simply says, “You are going to die.”

A sudden pull on your stomach wakes you harshly. “Shit!” Your eyes snap open, to see a sheepish Panda holding the knife that was previously in your stomach. You automatically go to apply pressure on the wound but your hands find Maki’s already there, dressing the wound. “What happened?”

“The fight’s over, but we need to find Yuta,” Maki explains. “He must have healed all of us, but you still had the blade in you. It needed to be removed before you get up. All of us are going to be fine, (y/n), you can rest now.” She helps you to your feet and you cringe looking at your ruined outfit. Maki catches your pout and smiles, glad some things never change.

Toge comes to your side to take Maki’s place as your crutch. You hug him tightly, unable to express in words how relieved you are. He hugs back, equally overwhelmed after seeing what seemed like your corpse. Toge helps you limp along as you all start tracking Yuta’s residuals. Panda clears his throat and asks, “When did this happen?”

“Only a few days ago. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” you explain with an eye-roll.

“No, I totally did. Just curious who won the bet.”

“If we didn’t just fight for our lives, I would kill you.” You four continue to try to have a light conversation until you come upon Yuta’s unconscious body. Toge helps you sit on the ground and you move his head onto your lap, muttering about checking for a concussion. All of you needed medical attention but you were desperate to help any way you could now.

Yuta begins to blink his eyes open and sits up urgently. “Your wounds… Panda! Your arm!” He seems to be working himself into a frenzy. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder as Panda explains that everyone will be okay. Yuta urgently looks over you, trying to determine how much blood was yours, before he seems satisfied.

“Thank you for saving us,” You whisper. His eyes fill with tears and you wonder how scared he must have been. You maintain eye contact, hoping to communicate how much you admire him, before Rika’s jumbled voice makes the both of you jump. Yuta stands, leaving the circle your class formed around him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rika,” he says, approaching her.

“What’s wrong?” Maki asks, a little fearful at how resigned Yuta looks.

Yuta hums a little before answering, “In exchange for her power, I promised to go with her.”

“What?” You screech and the suddenness of the yell pains your wound. Your classmates join a chorus of disagreement. Panda and Inumaki both grab fistfuls of his shirt to prevent him from walking any closer to Rika. Instead of her usual retaliation for someone restraining Yuta, her form just falls away to reveal a young girl. Four of you are confused but Yuta just mumbles, “Rika?”

A clapping distracts from the drama. You turn as best you can with a hole in your stomach to see your brother without any eye wear approaching your group. “Congrats. You broke the curse,” he continues to clap and stands next to you.

“Who’re you?” Yuta and Maki ask, causing you to snort before you groan at the pain.

Your brother pouts before replying, “Everyone’s favorite good-looking Gojo-sensei. Do you not see the sibling resemblance?” He gestures between your face and his, before carefully putting you on his back. He doesn’t even flinch at the grime covering you transferring onto him as well, relieved to see you awake and alert. You rest your chin on his shoulder and listen to him explain.

“I thought Yuta was interesting, so I looked into his lineage. Apparently, you’re a descendant of Michizane Sugawara. So, super-distant, but we’re relatives!” You groan and hide your face in Satoru’s neck; the teasing to come will be unbearable.

Your classmates look dumbfounded at the information while Yuta just goes, “Who?”

“One of Japan’s big three vengeful spirits.”

“A big-shot sorcerer.”

“Tuna.”

“The annoying side of the family,” you add.

Your brother takes back control of the conversation. “Yuta, you’re right. Rika isn’t cursing you, you cursed her. When the curser severs the bond tying servant to master and the cursed doesn’t desire punishment, the curse is broken. Though it seems you figured that out by yourself.” He gestures at the little girl and Yuta.

“Oh my god,” Yuta collapses in tears. “It’s all my fault…. Hurting so many people, Geto coming after me, it’s all my - all my -” He begins to hyperventilate. Inumaki takes a step to comfort him, but before he can, Rika approaches and hugs his trembling form.

“Thank you, Yuta. For giving me time and letting me be by your side. I’ve been happier these past six years than I ever was alive. Good-bye, be well. And don’t come over too soon, ‘kay?” She gives a bright smile, toothy and pure as she dissolves into bright ashes. Yuta stares at where she stood, long after all the ashes disappeared and everyone else walked away.

“See you,” He says to himself, before getting up to follow his friends to Doctor Ieiri.

#felicitate #cass.writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #inumaki x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #inumaki x reader x yuta #female!reader #jjk spoilers #jjk volume 0 spoilers #please dont take knives out #they help keep blood in normally after getting stabbed

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xiyao-feels · 3 years ago

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☕ possibly unpopular opinion, but I don't think lxc survives his seclusion. I think his world view is too badly shattered and he either wastes away slowly or outright kills himself.

I like—one-quarter agree with this, I think?

On the one hand, as I've said before, I do think CQL LXC kills himself. The man is just... really completely broken. And also just tried to die with JGY. I mean, I don't even think he goes into seclusion first, necessarily.

On the other hand, while MDZS LXC is also very much broken, I don't think he does die; even aside from anything else, JGY is still sealed in the coffin, and dying would be leaving him behind in a way it wouldn't in CQL—so in MDZS I don't think he does.

The part where I totally disagree with you is—I don't think it's about his worldview. It's about JGY being dead. I—think people very much want it to be about something other than that (including his grief for JGY /and NMJ/, which, still no) , and I am as ever prepared to look at a textual argument in favour if someone wants to assemble one, but honestly I think the text is pretty clear here. Throughout the temple, he's reacting and processing pretty normally—to borrow from my own previous work, here's an overview of some of his reactions to things and people other than JGY:

Obviously we see [LXC] react when he’s telling LWJ about WWX’s feelings, but even beyond that, even when he’s occupying a more background role in the narrative, we’re given his reaction quite a few times. He sighs when LWJ seals his spiritual powers (ch 100); he tends to NHS, covering with his outer robe (ch 102), comforting him when he’s disturbed at the sight of the coffin (ch 103), protecting him from SMS (after NHS frames him for stabbing him, ch. 107) and from NMJ (ch 107), and comforting him and giving him pain medicine about the wound in his leg (ch 108); along with LWJ, he’s distressed by the sound of JC’s sword-scraping technique against JGY’s music (ch 101); he tries to warn JC a couple of times when JC is fighting JGY (ch 101), cautions JL (ch 101) and later JC (ch 102) about worsening JC’s injuries, and along with JL, WWX, and LWJ freezes when JC slaps JL to the ground (ch 102); he asks Minshan why he’s being rude to LWJ, and a little later, with SMS and JL, pauses in astonishment when LWJ laughs (ch 100); he averts his gaze from and seems perhaps embarassed by the ghosts that WWX summons (ch 104); he calls out to WWX to remind him that his current body is closely related to JGY, and will therefore attract NMJ’s fierce corpse (ch 107). He actually has a couple of entertaining reactions to Wangxian being Wangxian: he coughs and tells WWX it is maybe not the best time and place for this when WWX is about to repeat “I really wanted to sleep with you,” and then later he and Jin Ling inexplicably! move their sitting cushions far away from Wangxian’s and gaze into the distance (ch 100).

And of course he reacts to JGY again and again, and—again!—is engaging and processing. Again pulling from my previous post—

And more than anything else—in what I think is a very instructive contrast—he reacts to JGY, in a way that reflects an ongoing continual emotional investment. He is, quite notably, consistently worried about JGY and unable to stand the sight of him in pain, even when he thinks he shouldn’t be. When the coffin trap goes off, and they overhear Jin cultivators wailing and a pungent smoke emerges, there’s worry in LXC’s eyes; after JGY and Minshan make it out, and JGY takes some medicine against the poison, LXC hesitates for a moment and then asks what happened (ch 103). After LWJ cuts JGY’s hand off—which means /after/ he’s taken JL hostage, note—LXC “seemed as though he wanted to help him for an instant,” though “in the end he dared not” (ch 106). When Minshan asks him for medicine for JGY, seeing how terrible JGY looks, he hesitates slightly before they’re interrupted by NMJ’s success fighting the Jin cultivators (ch 107). After they’ve defeated NMJ, he treats JGY’s wrist; moreover, “Seeing that Jin GuangYao almost passed out from the pain, Lan XiChen, who in the beginning wanted to use this to punish him, still didn’t have the heart to bear it,” and goes for the pain-relief medicine from NHS. And this is all not even accounting for his reactions to JGY either during his questioning of JGY or post-stabbing!

and

For the first, he calls out Sect Leader Jin when JGY starts in on JC after JC calls him the son of a prostitute (ch 104), although notably he does not do the same in their earlier confrontation when JGY is distracting JC in order to defeat him, only warning JC (ch 101); when JGY confesses to having burned down the brothel, he’s distressed when JGY says that it wasn’t entirely to remove the traces (ch 105); he becomes /less/ angry about the second siege and about QS when it turns out that he was operating under constraint in those conditions (ch 106); and of course, the thing he’s angriest about is JGY killing his father, “and even in such a way” (ch 106). In ch 103, looking down at the coffin he is shocked that JGY buried something that caused such horror to its surroundings, but without further information about JGY’s reasons this does not metamorphose into anger.

And there's even more! I don't want to quote all of that section because it's really long, but you get the point: before JGY dies, he's distressed, sure, but he's still processing.

And then after JGY dies, it's—

Lan XiChen staggered a few steps back from the push. He hadn’t realized what happened yet.

Lan XiChen stared at the coffin enveloped in seven guqin strings. He was still lost in thought. Nie HuaiSang extended a hand and waved it before his eyes, terrified, “… B-Brother XiChen, are you alright?”

Lan XiChen, “HuaiSang, just now, was he really trying to catch me off guard with an attack?”

Nie HuaiSang, “I think I saw it…”

Hearing his hesitation, Lan XiChen pressed, “Think it over some more.”

Nie HuaiSang, “If you ask me like that, I can’t be sure either… It really did seem like…”

Lan XiChen, “Cut out the ‘seem like’! Did it happen or not?!”

Nie HuaiSang answered with difficulty, “… I don’t know, I really don’t know!”

This was the only thing Nie HuaiSang knew to say when he was desperate. Lan XiChen buried his forehead in his palm. He seemed as if his head was about to split, unwilling to speak again.

Lan XiChen was startled, “Induce? Induce what?”

Lan WangJi’s voice was low, “Jin GuangYao’s killing intent.”

If it were the usual ZeWu-Jun, he couldn’t have failed to fathom this. But right now, it was likely he had no more space in his mind to think.

(ch 109)

Veins suddenly lined the back of the hand in which Lan XiChen placed on his forehead. His voice sounded muffled, “… Just what does he want to do? I once thought I knew him well, and then I realized I did not. Before tonight, I thought I knew him well once more, but now I do not.” Nobody could give him an answer. Lan XiChen repeated in frustration, “Just what does he want to do?”

Of the people here, some were cleaning up the scene, some were solidifying the seal on the coffin, some were thinking about how to move it safely, and some were feeling angry. Lan QiRen raged, “XiChen, what in the world is wrong with you?!”

As his hand pressed the corner of his forehead, Lan XiChen’s face was full of an unspeakable grief. He seemed tired, “… Uncle, I am begging you. Ask no further. Really. Right now, I really wish to say nothing.”

Lan QiRen had never seen Lan XiChen, a child he single-handedly brought up, look so agitated and discomposed. He looked at him, then looked at Lan WangJi, surrounded by disciples alongside Wei WuXian, and felt more irritated the more he looked. He felt that of these two of his proudest disciples who had been absolutely perfect, neither listened to him anymore and both gave him much worry.

Lan QiRen watched Lan XiChen who followed behind him sluggishly, still absent-minded, and sighed forcefully before he left with a flip of his sleeves.

(ch 110)

And then in the banquet extras, three months later:

Wei WuXian still clung to Lan WangJi’s chest, face buried at his neck as he felt the sandalwood aroma on Lan WangJi’s body grow even richer. He felt lazy all over, eyes closed, “Is your brother alright?”

Lan WangJi embraced his naked back, stroking again and again. After a while of a silence, he answered, “Not really.”

Both of the two were sticky with sweat. Wei WuXian felt an itch crawl from his skin all the way to the bottom of his heart as Lan WangJi stroked him. He twisted somewhat uncomfortably, swallowing Lan WangJi even deeper.

Lan WangJi lowered his voice, “In the years when I was in secluded meditation, Brother had always been the one to comfort me.”

Yet now the situation was the exact opposite.

Likely because Lan QiRen got a heart attack whenever he saw Wei WuXian, he simply decided not to look at him, staring straight forward. Lan XiChen was pleasant as always, holding the hint of a smile at his lips that always seemed like spring wind. Yet, perhaps because of the secluded meditation, Wei WuXian felt that ZeWu-Jun looked a bit frail.

(ch 115)

After the tasteless meal, the servants took away the plates and tables. As usual, Lan XiChen started to summarize the recent plans for the sect. But after listening for just a few sentences, Wei WuXian began to feel that he was a bit absent-minded. He even remembered two night-hunting locations wrong and didn’t realize after he spoke, causing Lan QiRen to throw a couple of sideway looks at him and puff his goatee into the air. A while later, he finally couldn’t help but interrupt him. Fortunately, the sect banquet finally ended, although somewhat hastily.

(ch 116)

So to recap—before JGY dies, he's distressed but he's still processing and reacting to things basically normally, he's got his head in the game. And then after JGY dies, he is very much /not/ processing things, he's not reacting normally, the things he's preoccupied with are entirely about JGY, LQR is like 'I've never seen him this way before.' And when we see him three months later, failing at very basic tasks he's long performed perfectly, it's the same kind of symptom—just as it was in ch 109, he seems to have no more space in his mind to think.

There's also the explicitly-drawn parallels between him and LWJ—by LQR, and by LWJ himself, paralleling LXC's current state with his own time in seclusion. And what would LWJ have needed comforting about while he was in seclusion? It's not the shattering of his worldview—it's Wei Ying.

I'm not going to go and rewatch and cap CQL temple, but the same basic pattern shows. Before JGY's death, he's functional and processing: afterwards, he's broken. I do think CQL LXC is more emotionally agitated before JGY's death than MDZS LXC is, but he's also even less functional afterwards so it evens out. If you go to 18:40ish in ep 50 (on YT, might be a different timestamp in Netflix) you can watch LXC stand frozen and stare into space and totally fail to react to anything including the conversation right next to him about his brother and WWX having run off.

I mean, I think it's also about the manner of JGY's death, if JGY had, idk, died heroically saving JL's life or something a year earlier he'd still have broken but probably not as badly? But it really is about JGY.

Tldr: I do think he kills himself in CQL; I don't think he does, even passively, in MDZS; but either way, his state at the end of canon isn't about his shattered worldview, it's about JGY being dead.

#ask meme #a gentle warmth filling the deepest of needs #the best of men

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Nauthiz

Warnings: noncon sex; hand job; oral; intercourse.

This is dark!viking!Thor and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Raiders arrive and chaos ensues.

Note: I think Viking Thor might be the greatest Thor I’ve ever written and I must share him with all of you.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Nauthiz - desire

Sæta = sweetie, cutie.

🌧️🌧️🌧️

The cold rain whipped across your face and your skirts flapped in the wind. It hadn’t stopped storming since they’d come. Since the raiders’ horn had wailed and signaled the imminent destruction.

The downpour washed away the blood of those strewn around you. Your grandfather was among them. He’d spent his life for yours, or tried to. You’d begged him to stand down. To toss aside the rusty old sword he prized from his days following the former lord in the campaign to the Promised Land. He had died at home by the hands of another type of savage. A true savage.

You shivered and took Winifred’s hand as she sobbed. The men had been herded into several houses along the eastern row. Some were wounded, others dying. The invaders had been much rougher with them, though many of the women who stood with you wore torn bodices and bloodied skirts. The children were with the few elders in Alfie Halfers’s barn. Your sister and brother were there, with crooked old Mary Greene.

The men in their mail and armor stood all around with spears, axes, and blades. Winifred cried louder, along with several others. Like you, they’d lost family that day. Like you, they had no idea what was to happen to them. Like you, they were aggrieved, angry, and alone.

You couldn’t cry. You tried. You wanted to. Your grandfather’s blood was on your cuffs still, you could smell it. His voice was still in your head. ‘Run, my sweet child, run.’ You had run once he’d fallen but not fast enough. You hadn’t wanted to leave him yet he’d met the same fate you feared if you had. And you’d met that he’d died to prevent.

You were angry at these beastly men. Angry at fate, angry at yourself.

Lightning flashed in the sky and screams rose in fright. The approach of heavy boots squelching in the mud preceded the broad, fearsome shadow of a man. He emerged into the moonlight, filtered through the blowing rains.

His golden hair poked out from beneath a fur cap and a thick beard hung from his jaw. The other men stood rigid as he approached. He spoke to them in another language. Then he turned and looked down the line of trembling women; some just girls. He smiled and his voice boomed again. This time, in your own tongue, lilted with a keen accent.

“We are not here to harm you. We only defended ourselves against your violent kin when they drew steel” He began. “Do not linger on the bloodshed, but consider our mercy. That you still stand here, that many still breathe, offered shelter still from this ragged storm.”

He preened at his own declaration. His English was fine for his kind. Many of the raiders knew only grunts and gibberish.

“And that we would prize you with our favour. Men of pure blood. Men descended from the gods.” He boomed and thunder echoed his tone. “Bow to us and we will be benevolent. Refuse and we will teach you to bend.”

Winifred nearly pulled you down with her as she crumpled into a heap. She wailed and murmured madly as the rain battered down on her. You tried to lift her to her feet but she wouldn’t budge. A man approached and forced her up, dragging her away as several other snuffed their sobs at the scene.

“What will they do to her?” One asked in a hoarse whisper and was shushed by others.

“We will not have you fine women out in the rain all night. You would grow ill, so let us proceed,” The blond man continued.

He neared the far end of the line. Many craned to watch him as he began the long walk along the distraught women. You kept your head straight and blinked through the rain. Let him pass you by and leave you to languish with the rest.

He got closer and closer. You could hear his boots and the little comments he made and the laughter of his men in response. The toe of his hide boot appeared at the edge of your vision and without thinking, with all your spite, you spat at his feet. You looked up as he flinched and turned to face you. You stared into his eyes and curled your lip.

“Murderer,” You snarled. “Beast.”

He tilted his head and looked back and forth along the line. Then he glanced behind him at his men. He laughed. Loudly. All others were silent as he raised his head and backed away from you. He raised his hand and his chuckles died. He gestured to you with two fingers and a man approached to wrench you forward. You stumbled as you were thrust towards the large blonde man.

“Fiery woman,” He sneered. “I do admire your will.” He smirked. “So I will reward you.” He grabbed your chin as he stepped closer. “Behold, a mighty king does claim you. I, Thor, Son of Odin. First of his name.”

You bared your teeth and your nostrils flared. He pushed you away before you could spit again and you choked on your saliva.

“You might gird yourself,” He warned as he signaled to the man to grab you once more. “Within reason. I do like a taste of fire.”

The man, a king by his word, Thor, turned away. You were urged after him by the man at your shoulder as the other gave an order in his own tongue. You tried to drag your feet, tried to fight, but your soles slipped in the mud. You grunted as you were nearly jerked off your feet by your escort as he muttered some unknown curse in your direction.

The sky flashed and the thunder was followed by the frantic voices of women and the guttural tones of the armored men. You peeked over your shoulder and blanched at the sight of the raiders closing in on the women as they huddled together in a fearful herd. They hauled them away from each other as you were ushered away. You were better off than no other. You would be better off among the bodies on the ground.

“Woman,” Thor called as he slowed to walk beside you and took your arm. The other man released you but tarried behind. “What do I call you?”

You pursed your lips and kept your eyes ahead, blinking away the droplets as they caught in your lashes.

“I will not keep from forcing it from you, so tell me.” He warned.

You sniffed and tried to tear your arm away. He didn’t falter as he kept on. You swallowed and answered him. He nodded.

“And which of these is yours?” He looked around at the varying houses; some little more than huts, other shared houses with sheds and troughs around the side. You were quiet again and he stopped to turn you to him. “I rarely repeat a threat twice before following through on it.”

You looked down at his hand and back to him. “Up that hill,” You peered over at the incline just a row away. “At the very top. The miller’s house.”

He patted your head with his large hand and angled you around the corner. He hurried you along as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. Your legs burned as you trekked through the mud up the hill.

The rain pelted down heavier than before and you stopped dead as you came up to your grandfather’s fence. His body was still there. Just inside the gate. Thor nearly took you off your feet but paused too as he noticed the corpse. He let go of you and bent. He bowed his head and said some words to the mud.

You backed away and he stood quickly to grab you again. He shook his head and pulled you through the gate.

“He died with a blade in his hands.” He said. “Brave.”

“Unlike you.” You hissed.

He chuckled and continued along the muddied patch to the front door. He shoved you ahead of him.

“I expect a warm welcome.” He taunted. “In.”

You pushed through the door and he was close behind. Your grandfather’s house was small; a single room. A fireplace against the back wall, a counter built of wood along the other, a table, several barren chairs. Your hay mattress rested in the corner and his own was placed at the foot. The door slammed and another roll of thunder sounded.

Thor let you go.

“A light.” He commanded.

You went to the table and blindly felt around for the candle there. You lit it with the flint that sat on its tray and you backed away. The small glow cast shadows across the space. The king removed his hat and wrung it out before tossing it beside the clay basin on the counter. He unclasped his cloak and slung it over a chair.

He unbuttoned his lined jacket and looked at you. Your eyes went to the door.

“How far do you think you would get?” He asked pointedly. “My man is at the door and others will patrol the streets.”

You lowered your chin and turned away from him.

“You stay in that dress, you will be sick.” He said. “I will start the fire. You will undress.”

You spun back to him and crossed your arms. You were cold and resisted a shiver.You went to the chest and placed your hands on the strap. He followed and planted his muddied boot on the lid.

“What are you doing? I said undress.” He snarled.

“I will need a clean dress.”

“No.” He said. “Undress.”

You glared at him. He didn’t back down. He kept his foot on the chest and his hands gripped his hips as he stared you down. You reached to the laces along the front of your bodice and untied the top gruffly. You didn’t look away as you loosened them and pulled your collar open. He smirked and retreated.

He took the flint and knelt at the fireplace. You wriggled out of your dress and threw it across the chest. Your shift was just as wet and nearly transparent. You pulled it over your head and tossed it atop your dress. You ripped off your shoes and rolled down your damp stockings. Naked, you turned away, trying to hide behind air.

“Let me see you,” He said.

You peeked over your shoulder and turned slowly. He neared as you faced him and he stopped before you. His fingertips tickled your cheek as his eyes ventured further down. You couldn’t resist the shiver that rose along your back.

“Lay down.” He said. “Get under the covers. Get warm.”

You bit down and crept onto the mattress against the wall. He dragged your grandfather’s to rest beside yours and stood. You slid under the blanket as he tugged removed his mail then tugged his tunic over his head. He draped it across the back of the chair closest to the fire and bent to push his boots off.

He placed belt and the large hammer he wielded against the wall. His socks were stretched over the seat of the chair and he unlaced his pants deliberately. He threw those over his tunic and bent to free himself of his undershorts. He dropped those with his socks and you closed your eyes as he came around the table.

Your heart raced as you heard him near. He gave a low laugh as he approached and the floor creaked. You could sense him looming before you.

“Open your eyes.” He demanded. “Look at me.”

You covered your face and he laughed louder.

“You never seen a man before?” He asked.

“I have.” You uttered. “I don’t want to see you.”

“Afraid?” You felt the other mattress shift against yours as he got down on it. “I don’t blame you. You won’t be able to resist once you see me.”

You grimaced and kept your eyes shut.

“This is the last I’ll repeat my words.” He said. “Open your eyes, girl.”

Your eyes snapped open at his tone. He was on his knees before you. You stared at his face. He grinned.

“Look at all of me.” He hummed.

You gulped and inhaled. You drew the blanket snugger to your shoulders and your eyes fell almost without thinking. His chest stood broadly above his tightly muscled stomach and his arms were as thick as the rest of him. Unlike any man you’d seen before, often as they bathed, his member was large and upright before him. It bobbed against his stomach and he reached to cup stroke it.

“You ever seen a man like me?” He teased.

You turned onto your back and stared at the ceiling. “I told you. I’ve seen men before.”

“But not like me,” He said as he lowered himself across the mattress. “Girl,” He tugged on your blanket and spread it over him. “Come close. It will help you get warm.”

“I will stay.” You insisted.

He growled and shoved his arm under you. He rolled you against him and settled you under the blanket with him. He brought your head up on his shoulder and you could smell the rain in his hair and dried sweat on his flesh.

“I tire of your whims, girl.” He turned you until your breasts were pressed to him and his other hand groped your ass. “I am helping you. You were in the rain too long. You must warm yourself.”

You were silent, tense against him. You’d never been like this with a man. And he was right, you’d never seen a man like him. His fingers crawled over your skin.

“You have good hips.” He said. “But you have no children. That old man could not have been your husband.”

“My grandfather,” You said. “And no, I have no children.”

“You say you’ve seen men,” He caressed your arm. “Have you touched one?”

You said nothing. You couldn’t.

“No.” He answered for you. “Well, I can say I’ve touched a woman. I’ve made women scream.” He inhaled your scent as he clung. “I will do things to you you will never forget.”

You folded your arms against your chest as he rubbed your back lightly.

“Not tonight.” He purred. “Tonight, I will show you how to touch a man.”

He retracted his hand and grabbed yours. You resisted but only until he twisted your arm. He led your hand to his member and pressed your palm to the firm flesh. He bent your fingers around him and his thick veins bulged in your grip. He shuddered.

“Tightly,” He bid. “Move up.” He slid your hand to the tip. “Down.” He pushed it to his base. “And again.” He repeated the motion. “Don’t stop.”

He rescinded his hand and you kept on as he’d shown you. You listened to the crackle of the fire and his thick breaths as you numbly stroked him. He began to groan as his hand slapped against the mattress.

“Faster,” He begged. “Faster, girl.”

You obeyed. You didn’t ask why, you didn’t hesitate. Whatever was happening, you wanted to be over. He pushed his head back as he jutted his chest up and the blanket slowly slipped further and further down his torso. He grunted and flicked it away from him so it hung from your shoulder.

“Watch.” He rasped. “See what you can do to me.”

He lifted his head and looked down at your hand as it glided up and down his member. He bared his teeth as his blue eyes dilated in the dim light. His thighs tensed as your eyes stuck to the scene and his voice got louder. The arm beneath you curled and he pulled you closer. You could hear his heart as your head was pushed further onto his chest.

He exclaimed and his hips jerked. A warmth suddenly spilled down your hand and spread beneath your palm. The white liquid spurted up and coated your fingers as your lips parted. His hand stopped yours as he sputtered.

“Enough, enough,” He growled. “You know what that is, girl?” You blinked. “That’s my seed. If you are good, I will honour you with it.” He slowly released your hand. “You might be fortunate enough to carry a king’s child.”

Your hand slipped down and you wiped away his seed on the blanket. You quivered as the balmy smell of his sweat and arousal enshrined you. He drew away from you, carefully, and rose. He went to the table and snuffed out the candle. He returned to you through the flickering shadows of the fire and pulled you close once more.

“Where is that voice, girl?” He slung your leg over his. “I will help you find it again. Never fear.”

🌧️

You were wakeful, restless. The large behind you snored with his arm firmly around you as the storm raged without. When last it quelled and the steady beating stopped, you wriggled free of his grasp. You shivered as you turned your back to him and dozed for an hour before the sun in grey wisps through the cracks of the shuttered windows.

You woke as a warmth pressed to your back and Thor pressed his nose to the back of your head. He pushed himself against you. He was hard again. He rocked against you as he growled low in your ear. He drew away abruptly and sniffed. He sat up and the blanket fell from your shoulders and you shivered in the morning chill.

“Girl.” He said as he rose with a groan. “What will we break our fast with?”

You held the blanket to you as you crawled across the mattress and you went to the chest. You reached for your dress and he tilted his head in warning. He wagged his finger.

“Did I say you could do that?” He asked.

You dropped your hand as he neared and tugged the blanket away. He tossed it back on the mattresses and backed away.

“I said you would cook my meal.” He turned and went to the fire, barely more than ashes. He added the splintered wood from the woven basket and stirred it until it sparked. “So, be quick.”

You rounded the other side of the table as he sat and you took the heavy iron pot from the counter. You added oats from the bag and emptied the last of the ewer into it. You added nutmeg and cinnamon bought from the merchants in the next town and hung it from the hook over the rising fire.

You avoided looking at him as he watched you. He scoffed as he picked at the wood of the table.

“You want to say what makes you frown.” He said.

You looked up and he smiled. You averted your gaze and folded your hands. You would never used to being so bare. You raised your chin and swallowed.

“How do you know this language?” You asked.

He snickered and tapped his fingers on the table. He ran his hand over his beard and you made yourself look him in the eye.

“I’ve been to many villages like this. Those men I did not kill, I took as slaves. At least a dozen or so. The women… I never took many of them. They are not so strong for the field and their use is… fleeting. But those men I took, I spoke to them as I could.” He leaned back and dropped his hand to his lap. “I learned to tell men how I would kill them before I did.” He lifted a brow. “That fear before I bring my hammer down… that is… it is that destiny the gods made for me.”

You crinkled your nose without thinking and your blood turned cold. He spoke of killing as if he were shearing a sheep or sowing a field. He was amused and you wiped the disgust from your face. You turned and took a wooden spoon and crossed to the fire to stir the oats.

“No…” He began. “I never did take a woman. I feared they wouldn’t make the journey after… after they had bowed to me.”

You withdrew the spoon and returned to the counter with it. You set it down and peeked over at him.

“The ego is the male sin,” You said. “Tolerance is a woman’s penance.”

He inhaled and rumbled softly. “Our gods do not speak of sins. How grim. They speak of glory. To take and not beg from some spiteful wraith.”

You pushed your head back and said nothing. He kept his eyes on you. His gaze made you uneasy but if you let him see, it would only be another victory to proclaim.

“Oh, how glorious,” You took the wooden spoon and went to the pot again. “To take oats from an old man’s hearth.”

🌧️

Thor left you after he ate. His man remained outside the door, the occasional clink of his mail assuring you of his presence. You pulled on a dress unwrinkled by the rain and sat by the fire. The sky outside was grey and the sun refused to show. You spent your hours mending a collection of holey stockings and your grandfather’s old cloak. It was likely pointless work but it kept you from thinking.

You chewed on stale bread as the day wore on. Then you sat at the table in silence. The winds persisted but the rain did not return. You couldn’t hear the usual livestock grazing along the neighbour’s yard or the voices of children as they ran along the dusty paths. The was only the eerie dearth of life all around.

The door clattered and you sat up as you looked over your shoulder. Thor wore his cap and long fur-trimmed cloak. He came up beside you and his hand settled along the back of your neck.

“You’re dressed,” He remarked. “You think when I am gone, I am no longer king?”

“You’re not my king, here or there,” You said. “This is not your land.”

“It’s not?” He taunted. “This is a dead man’s house. I can only claim it as my own.” He ran his thumb along the bottom of your skull. “You will be allowed a shift at supper.”

You stood and shook his hand away. You went to the counter and bent to the basket of potatoes beneath. He snorted and followed you. He poked your head.

“We are not eating whatever gruel you can cook up,” He said. “My men are having a feast. In celebration of a fruitful journey.”

You stood and sidestepped him. You crossed the room and turned back to him.

“It is cold out. You expect to wear only a shift?”

“You shall have my cloak while we walk,” He unclasped the cloak. “My jacket is more than warm enough.”

You sighed and pulled the cowled neck of your dress over your head. You swept it away and threw it onto the floor. You stood in your shift, it fell just past your calves and left you frigid. You grabbed your shoes and pulled them on over your stockings. Thor neared and held out his cloak.

“Bear fur.” He said as you turned and let him place it over your shoulders. “Fell it by my own hand.”

When his large hands had secured the cape, you stepped away from him. It was oversize for you. You held onto the sides to keep it from dragging.

“We hunt for food, not sport.” You said.

“As do we. And there is much more to do with a bear than just eat.” He passed you and opened the door. “My people do not waste. We use every bit… until there is nothing left to be had.”

He let you out first. The man who stood guard at the door watched you pass as his king followed you. You descended the hill quietly and he guided you along as a din of voices rose from the church along Cutter’s Road. The priest had been housed with the elderly. He was the only ordained cleric in the village as the inhabitant paid their tithes in the upkeep of the chapel.

Inside, the pews were pushed against the walls and men sat in clusters all around steaming spits of roasted lamb, pig, and goat. The livelihoods of several families filled the stomachs of these killers. Thor led you to the front of the chapel and sat amid a group of a dozen men. They greeted him with deference and doffed their cups. Lee, the baker, also brewed his own ale, and it was quickly being drained from his hidden vats.

The king removed the cloak from your shoulders and spread it on the floor. He sat and drew you down beside him. The men around you leered openly as you sat on your knees and Thor withdrew a knife from his pelt to carve off a thick hunk of sheep meat. He offered you a piece and you accepted it wordlessly. You’d nibble so that you wouldn’t have to eat more.

As you stared at the floor, aware of the whispers spoken in another tongue but no doubt about you from around the circle. Thor humoured some, returned a bawdy joke, and ran a knuckle along your arm.

You stiffened as another hand rested on your knee. You sneered down at the hairy paw as it crawled up your thigh, the fabric of your shift threatened to rise. You dropped your handful of meat and slapped the man who dared to accost you. He swore as he drew away and you struck out at him, your palm met his cheek loudly.

He grunted and raised his own hand. It was stopped by another as Thor leaned over and pushed until the man rescinded. The king growled a warning and repeated it to the entire group. He sat back and played with the top of your shift.

“Girl. You are brave but stupid.” He tugged at your sleeve and his hand fell to rub his thigh, his thick legs crossed before him. “Sit with me.”

He pulled on your arm until you moved. You were clueless until he grabbed your hips and led you over into his lap. He took another bite of sheep and offered you a bite. You shook your head and he finished the slab on his own. He wiped his hands on a rag drawn from his pocket then wrapped his arms around you.

“Let me tell you something, girl.” He began as his hand spread over your stomach, his other pinched the fabric of your shift along your thigh. “I do not talk so much to the women of this land. I would have my way and be done. They are too meek.”

You shifted and he groaned, his fingers pressed against your middle. You felt his bulge against you.

“I bid you wear your shift for my own ease.” You glanced around, those men around you and others through the hall watched you. “Often, after such a feast, I would bend my prize over and the men would be unable to look away. When I finished, they would take their own pleasure.”

He took a deep breath and chuckled.

“I will disappoint them tonight. While I long to pull up your skirt and bury my fingers inside you, I have decided it would be wrong to share you with these men.” He purred and gripped your hips, pushing you down so you felt his arousal more plainly. “A woman has never riled me as much as you, sæta.”

You stiffened against him and grabbed his wrists. You felt as if you would melt beneath the heat of a hundred eyes.

“Not here, sæta,” He repeated the name. “I will have you and only me. I will taste you first.” He squeezed your hips. “And then claim you entirely.” He tickled your sides.. “And if I am satisfied, you might see my land and warm my bed there.”

🌧️

The men around you grew to a bawdy drunken racket. Words you couldn’t understand shouted to the response of laughter or plain threats. Their king did not discourage them as he only splendoured in the rowdy rapport. He paused only as you began to fidget impatiently. You were irritated by these raiders and you felt as if you were the crux of their amusement.

Thor pushed you up and you stood. A few men quieted by the din remained. The king lifted the cloak and wrapped it around you as he had before. He announced his departure as he bent to take his stein and rain the last of the fragrant ale. He let the cup fall back to the floor and led you to the church doors. Heads turned and grumbled laments bristled in your direction. The king had chosen not to share his spoils.

In the night air, the king clung to your arm through the thick cape. He traipsed along as he looked up at the moon. You wanted to run. To slip from his grasp and flee into the forest. You stumbled and he jerked you forward.

“That would be a fun game, sæta.” He lilted. “I am fast. Are you?”

You lowered your eyes and took a deep breath. You said nothing as he ushered you along.

“My people have a similar repast. A festival in honour of the gods. A hunt.” He explained. “Our maiden set off into the trees and we wait a while before we give chase. The last of the women to be found is our festival queen. She is adorned with furs and gems and she is the next to be wed.”

“We do not partake in those unholy rituals.” You assured him.

“No, you take your crosses to listen to an old man ramble in a forgotten tongue.” He said. “This night, I will show you how your people live grey lives. The gods did not put us here to mourn our own being.”

“We live on our own toil, not by taking others’,” You muttered.

“You live by that quick mouth,” He hissed. “You do amuse me, sæta, but you tempt me to anger as well.”

“Would you bend to any who invaded your home and killed your people?” You countered as you set up the hill.

He was quiet as you approached the gate and he let you through. The man remained by the door in his armor and greeted his king with a dip of his head.

“Though you do not admit, we are more alike than you believe.” He opened the door and pressed his hand to the small of your back as he led you within. “You are right; I would not bend.”

The door closed behind him. He swept the cloak from your shoulders and hung it as he had before from the chair. He pushed the candle towards you and turned to the fireplace. You lit the wick and he stirred the embers to spark the log he placed over them. He stood and removed his fur cap. His golden braids shone in the lowlight and the silver beads at their ends added to the glimmer.

He removed his jacket next, then his mail, and his sword belt which held a large hammer rather than a long blade. He set it down and straightened to look at you. He bent his leg and tore off his boot, and then the other. His eyes stuck to you as thoughts curved his lips.

“Undress and I will bend to you, sæta,” He said. “And you will feel the glory of my gods.”

You stared at him. You bent to slip out of your shoes. You stood but could not bring yourself to lift your shift. Even though the night before had bared all that you could hide from him, you couldn’t. You pressed your palms to the linen over your thighs and he neared.

He bunched the fabric along your hips and slowly raised it. He pulled up until you were forced to lift your arms and he drew the shift over your head. He let it fall behind you. His hands framed your face then slipped down to your neck. He turned them flat to your chest and dragged them down to cup your breasts.

His hands continued their descent and he carefully got to his knees before you. His arms snaked around you he kneaded your ass before tickling along the back of your thighs. He shifted closer and pulled one of your legs up. You grabbed onto his shoulder with a gasp as you nearly toppled.

He bent your leg over his shoulder as his hand ran up past the top of your stocking to your hip. Your foot arched until you were on tiptoes and he bent closer until his hot breath tickled the hair along your vee. You shivered and wobbled as you tried to pull away.

He held you close and nuzzled you. You squeezed his shoulder as he hummed and his lips brushed your cunt.

“What--” You choked on your voice as his tongue poked between your folds.

You’d never felt that before. Never felt such a cool heat. Never felt that tingle that started along your tailbone and rolled through you. Never felt the weight settle inside you as his tongue pressed to your bud and flicked back and forth. Your other hand went to his golden locks and you clung to him as your leg quivered beneath you, the other hooked snug around his shoulder.

He purred and it sent a delightful ripple through you. He lapped more eagerly and you turned your face up to the ceiling, your eyes rolling back. There was that voice inside telling you it was wrong; for this man to do what he was doing to you, to feel this way, to be unable to think of anything but the pulsing of your core.

Was that you? Were those your moans? You quaked as your body acted on its own. As you sank into the sheer joy of that moment. You bared your teeth as you reached the peak and plummeted over. You cried out and latched onto Thor as you tilted your hips into him. He stopped only as you quieted, breathless and barely standing.

He drew away and you felt an empty chill. You looked down at him, your vision a haze, and he tickled your thigh before slowly slipping it from his shoulder. You wavered as you held onto him to keep your balance.

He rose as he took your hands from him. His lips glistened as he gazed down at you hungrily.

“Look at you, sæta,” He smirked. “Aching for more already.” You pulled away from him and elicited a chuckle. “Do not be ashamed. Your god holds no power over me or mine.”

He backed away and pulled his tunic off in a single swipe. He tossed it away and it slid over the chair on the other side of the table. He undid his breeches, sighing as he opened the front and rolled them down his thick legs. He stepped out of them, along with his wool socks. He did not wear his undershorts. He was erect; proud as he stood naked before you.

He turned and pulled a chair close. He sat, his hands on his muscled thighs.

“Here, sæta,” He beckoned you close with two fingers. “You have my patience… for now.”

You blinked and staggered forward. He caught your hand and drew you close. His other hand slapped his thigh.

“Up,” He commanded.

He tugged more adamantly and grasped your hips as he urged you into his lap, your legs folded over his thighs. You held yourself over his length as his chest puffed out and he sighed. His eyes held yours as he felt beneath you and led his tip along your folds. He pushed on your hip.

You resisted as his head pressed to your entrance. He pinched you and growled. You grabbed his shoulders and tried to keep yourself from slipping. His jaw squared and his other hand gripped your waist. He forced you down and you exclaimed. There was a pain so deep it felt close to pleasure.

He pushed deeper and you slapped him. His flinched slightly and grabbed your hand. He took your other and guided both behind your back. His fingers wrapped around your wrists as he kept them there. His other hand went to your thigh and he began to rock beneath you. Each tilt of his hips had him impaling you deeper than the last. Your walls ached around him.

He leaned forward and nibbled at your breast. You couldn’t help the whine which escaped you. His mouth toyed with your nipple before taking the other. He snarled against your flesh as his grip tightened on your wrists and he guided your hips and the chair groaned.

He grunted and pushed his head back. He watched you hungrily as you gulped at air. The same pressure began to mount as he moved you faster and faster. His hand slipped back and stretched across your rear. He took a breath and stood with little effort as he kept you moving against him. You moaned as thrust into you from below, bouncing your body as if you were nothing.

You wrapped your legs around him as he released your wrists. You hugged him to you as you writhed in desperation. You needed more. It didn’t matter what he’d done or who he was. You needed it. You needed that peculiar release which made you feel both empty and entirely full.

You buried your face in his neck as you came. Your body quaked as he didn’t let up. The noise of flesh slapping filled the space and the flicker of firelight had your vision cloudy.

He began to walk, his steps uneven and clumsy. You clung to him tighter as he slowed you just slightly. He dropped to his knees on the straw mattress and it caused him to sink into you completely. You mewled and he reached to your arms. He untangled them as he bent over you and laid you on your back.

He sat up slowly. He kept your pelvis up against his, your weight upon your shoulders as he held you at an angle. He rutted into you harder. You whimpered and he did it again. Even rougher. He paused between each thrust, admiring your senseless cries. It wasn’t long before your eyelids met and you were once more squirming in bliss.

He grunted loudly with each jerk of his hips. His pace was steady and deliberate until he could control himself no more. Until he was crashing into you so rapidly you thought you would shatter into pieces. He snarled and let out a thunderous roar. The heat within you bloomed as his pelvis spasmed and stuttered to a shaky halt.

He let out a thick breath and fell forward over you. The smell of his sweat filled your nostrils and your eyes fluttered open. He stared down at you, his face flushed as he brushed his nose against yours.

“Sæta,” He rasped as his fingers tickled your cheek.

“What does that mean?” You uttered, trapped beneath him.

“It means you are sweet,” He said. “It means I will keep you.”

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #viking!thor #thor x reader #dark thor x reader #dark!thor x reader #fic #one shot #viking au #au #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #nauthiz

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