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chanfictions · 3 years ago

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Akatsuki reader, partners...mmmmm maybe Hidan and Kisame.

Again, fem! The reader gets hit by someone else's technique.

(Or she was stupidly thrown something that she didn't have time to dodge).

The reader gets aroused and suddenly wants to have sex, whines, rubs herself against Kisame and Hidan, and they decide to help her ;3

(Either arrive at the base and fuck there, or right where they got rid of the opponents)

Hey anon! Sooooo, I know this isn't exactly what you requested. I couldn't for the life of me fit Hidan and Kisame into the same box to make this work, so I just stuck with Kisame. It started with your ask. One thing led to another and this happened. I got carried away with plot. Again. Hope you still enjoy!

Cupid

18+ Content! Minors DNI!

Kisame x Reader

Smut with a splash of plot. Unprotected sex-ish. Reader is assumed to be on birth control. Public sex-ish. Aphrodisiacs. Mentions of blood during combat.

You were sent on a mission together to retrieve a special relic that had some unexpected side effects.

3.4k

This mission was doomed from the start.

Pain had partnered you with Kisame on an infiltration and retrieval mission to acquire a powerful ninja tool being housed in a fortified military compound not far from the Hidden Sound. Stealth was your forte, so this sort of thing was right up your alley. While you had no hard-hitting combat skills to fall back on in the event that something went awry, you weren't particularly worried. As a phantom thief with a perfect record in your high profile heists, the thought of getting caught or needing to participate in a fight hardly crossed your mind. You insisted to Pain that you had never needed backup in the past and could easily do this yourself, but Pain disagreed. Kisame was assigned to you more or less as a bodyguard whether you liked it or not.

Kisame had been running solo since Itachi's death and had gotten a tad rusty when it came to fighting alongside another person. Your battle techniques got along about as well as oil and water. You favored covert sabotage and traps, and Kisame, well, Kisame was Kisame. Nothing that man did was small. He transformed every battlefield he encountered into a shark-infested lake before completely obliterating his opponents.

That's how everything went sideways. Kisame, bless his blue heart, was not subtle. You donned your camouflage jutsu and got ready to slink into the compound. "I'll pop a flare if I get into trouble. It's going to be much easier to sneak in and out without a 6'8" sword on legs following me. Just wait here."

Staring at the spot where he thought you were probably standing, Kisame's face twisted slightly. "This really isn't a good idea, Y/N." Unfortunately for Kisame, you were already long gone, and he was having a conversation with the wind. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back against a thick tree, focusing on the compound not far off in the distance where you would be poking around on your own. He didn't like the idea of you going in there alone. You were still relatively new to the Akatsuki, and your skills had yet to be formally tested. Kisame got along with you quite well and rather liked you, so allowing you to dive head first into danger without any real offensive jutsu in your arsenal left him on edge.

That overprotective nervousness regarding your safety was what sent everything spiraling out of control. An alarm sounding from within the walls of the compound left Kisame bristling and looking skyward for a flare. As the seconds ticked by into minutes with no cloud of smoke rising into the sky and the clear sound of soldiers mobilizing inside, Kisame made the executive decision to throw your plan out the window.

What he didn't know was that the alarm you set off was a decoy. Oh, shit. After plunging the base into chaos, it occurred to you that you had neglected to tell Kisame as much. At that moment, you realized that Kisame was probably about to charge in, sharkskin blazing. Shit, shit, shit! Every profanity you knew blared across your stream of consciousness like ticker tape as you hurriedly snatched the relic longbow you had been sent in to retrieve. A gooey sap coated the slick wood which left you quickly wiping your palms on your thighs to clean your hands before making a beeline for the exit. The growing cacophony of chaos outside announced Kisame's arrival.

As you expected, things outside had gotten a little out of hand. Kisame was in the heat of battle, taking on an army by himself and winning. Jutsu flew across the battlefield like exchanges of elemental cannon fire. Half of a battalion was encased in water prisons and the other was fleeing from shark filled orbs of water. Kisame was grinning ear to ear as he swatted off one after another like whiffle balls with Samehada.

You quickly scurried across the scene, sneaking up behind Kisame and whisper-screaming to get his attention. "Kisame, you big dummy! It was just a diversion! I'm fine!!"

Surprised, Kisame turned an eye to where he assumed you were while sending another enemy flying with a swing of his greatsword with an amused chuckle. "Next time, you might want to tell me what your plan is. Here I thought you were fighting off an army all by yourself."

"No, that's just you! Come on, I got the thing. Let's go!" You danced around him to avoid the swings of his sword, still wanting to keep yourself out of sight. Upon seeing his feet shift, you turned around just in time to see a flurry of arrows flying your way in such a wide spray that dodging them was going to be a feat.

Kisame blocked what he could with Samehada, but not knowing where exactly you were, wasn't sure he had protected you. A yelp answered his question. You shimmered back into sight just in front of him. He missed one, and it had plunged straight through your thigh. A stain of your blood quickly began mixing in with the sap you had wiped on your pants earlier. "Damnit!"

"I'm fine! Let's just go!" You shouted over the clatter of weapons and incoming pursuit, getting ready to run. With a snarl, Kisame reached down and snapped both ends off of the arrow before unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and retreating.

Fortunately, the soldiers had been so devastated by Kisame's onslaught that they hardly had the numbers to launch a fruitful pursuit. In the chaos, they had yet to notice that you stole the very item this outpost had been built to protect. Once he had put sufficient distance between you two and the base, he searched briefly for some cover to deal with your leg wound and leapt down from the towering branches to set you down with your back to a barky trunk.

You were beginning to feel flushed and hot as a shiver of heat rattled through your body and left an oddly pleasant knot in your belly. Blood roared in your ears as your heart began to race. When you looked up at Kisame, something felt… different.

Kisame knelt down to look at your leg. "You should have been standing behind me," he chided while setting one large palm on your thigh to brace it while he used the other to remove the broken arrow shaft. An ache built in your core as you caught your lip between your teeth. The warmth of his hand sent a tingling sensation rippling through your body. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to hurt."

With massively dilated pupils, you stared at him hungrily. "It… didn't hurt," you breathed. With a deep inhale, you wondered how you never noticed how good he smelled.

Kisame stared back at you critically. "You're awfully sweaty for someone who wasn't running." Shock washed over his face after touching your forehead. You were positively boiling. "Y/N, are you feeling alright? Was there poison on that arrowhead? Your eyes..." Concern was beginning to bubble as he pulled the item in question from his pack, examining it, completely oblivious to the wild fantasies bubbling in your head.

He was so close. Your body hummed to life as that heat in your belly began growing in size. An ache throbbed through your core. Your heart was in your mouth. Every inch of your skin pricked with the need for contact. And Kisame… how had you never noticed just how hot he was? Sure, you had some occasional dirty, late night fantasies about him. But now? You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. The muscles rippling across his torso were hardly concealed by that black cloak. Even with those unusual features, his face was remarkably handsome, not to mention each time he spoke, shocks seemed to travel straight through your body and into your clit. Still with your lip caught between your teeth, you let out a sultry breath and ghosted your fingertips along his firm bicep. All that seemed to do was make your hunger worse.

Kisame, entirely oblivious to what was unfolding behind your eyes, just looked confused. The arrowhead didn't appear to have any substance left on it, and he couldn't think of another cause for your apparently unwell state. He unpacked some rudimentary first aid supplies from his pack and wrapped some gauze tightly around your thigh as a temporary measure to staunch the bleeding. Thinking that your stare focused at him was vacant, he snapped his fingers in front of your face to try to get your attention. "Hey, talk to me. What's going on with you?"

While his arm was extended, you latched onto it like a lifeline, nuzzling your face into his bicep and inhaling deeply. "Kisame..." You couldn't resist. You needed to touch him. Following that arm back to his torso, your hands traced every ripple of muscle while Kisame froze in shock.

You were his partner. While he undoubtedly found you attractive, this seemed like an odd time to suddenly declare your own desires. "What's gotten into you?" He wrapped his hands around your wrists, engulfing them entirely, as they traversed his muscular chest.

"Dunno… I just really… really need you." You used the grip he had to pull yourself in, burying your face against his neck and breathing deeply again. "You smell so good…"

A light heat rushed across Kisame's cheeks as you abruptly began coming on to him. Between your strange behavior and the thrill of the battle he had just been in, he was amped up. Your body being pressed so tightly against his was causing some complications to arise. His pulse quickened as you nuzzled and rubbed yourself against him. Feeling your breasts against his chest and your heated breath on his neck was distracting him from the issue at hand. "Y/N…" He let out your name in a low growl, intending it to be a warning, but it didn't quite come off with the bite he had intended. Hearing that word fall from his lips in such a tone just set you ablaze. A little moan escaped your lips, and you coiled yourself around him like a lusty little boa constrictor, trailing little bites and open mouth kisses on his neck, savoring every salty inch of his exposed skin. Another deep growl rumbled in Kisame's chest as he ran a strong palm up your spine to the back of your neck. "You're under the influence of some kind of jutsu," he breathed heavily, trying very hard to resist biting you back as his own desire built rapidly. There was no denying how steamy this situation was growing.

"Don't care," you whispered, nibbling at his ear as your hands wandered the chiseled landscape of his body.

"You're injured," he continued, now getting sucked into your lusty riptide, grazing your neck with pointed teeth.

"Don't care," you breathed again, beginning to unzip his cloak.

"We're in enemy territory," he murmured between bites on your throat that no doubt left marks before swallowing you in a crushing kiss. Those calloused hands ran up your sides, wanting to explore more but seeming hesitant.

"Don't care," you mewled, reaching for the waist of his pants, your fingertips grazing the impressive package Kisame was concealing, wiggling your hips for any kind of relief from the needy heat that was driving you to the brink of madness. Your panties were drenched. Your core ached. It was like you had been edged for two days straight without any kind of release. Every nerve in your body was hypersensitive to touch.

Another deep sound rattled in his throat. You ensnared him in this whirlwind, and there was no going back now. You undressed each other in a flurry of zippers and fabric, discarding one item after another in a heap upon the leaves scattered across the forest floor. You didn't care about the dirt. Nothing else existed to you right now outside of the deft hands moving across your body, making you arch your back and moan. His scent flooded your head. You were drowning in Kisame, yet felt like you were dying of thirst. You wanted him. Needed him. Your brain and body shared a singular focus. Neither the mission nor your bleeding leg mattered right now.

Kisame picked you up by the backs of your thighs, pressing your back against the rough trunk of the tree while leaving a trail of branding bites along your neck and collarbone, drawing a whine out of you. You wrapped your uninjured leg around his waist, grinding your soaked pussy against him and letting a lewd moan drift into the sky. That little bit of friction alone was nearly enough to send you over the edge. Your hands wandered, caressing every ridge and ripple of the muscle coiled like steel cables under his skin. This man was built. By now, you were well aware that he was hung like a horse as well. That impressive appendage was currently teasing the hell out of your hungering little hole. You could feel that broad head rubbing through your slick folds as you shifted. "Kisame, please," you whispered with a breathy lust, rolling your hips against him.

A low, raspy chuckle tickled your ear. "You're going to scream and give away our location," he teased.

"Then kiss me so I can't." Your desperation to have that massive girth inside of you dripped from every pore as you tangled your arms around his neck to pull him into a hungry kiss.

Unable to decline such a delicious request, Kisame shifted you to begin impaling you on his impressive cock painstakingly slowly, stretching your walls around him. He smothered your wails with his mouth. Your back scraped across the rough bark behind you, but you didn't care. This was divine. You tensed and whimpered, both aching to be filled and struggling to accommodate the sheer size of him. You clung to him for dear life, gasping and catching his lip between your teeth as he finally sheathed himself. Your core throbbed and pulsed. Nerves ached for input. You used your good leg to try to pull him in even deeper. Another little chuckle rolled through him at your enthusiasm and impatience. "Someone is eager," he teased again with a single thrust to punctuate his statement.

You mewled before biting his neck. "Kisammm-" He silenced you with a bruising kiss before any more complaints or moans could escape your lips as he began drilling you into that tree. Birds fled from the branches above from the force of his motions disturbing their roosts. You clawed his chest and back, screaming into his mouth as he repeatedly buried himself in your fluttering core. You were on fire. Each time your hypersensitive clit rubbed against his body, stars erupted behind your eyes. Sweat slicked your bodies as a steamy heat began to rise. The drag of your nipples against his skin sent rippling shocks of pleasure through your entire being.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled in your ear, large palms tightly gripping your ass as he drove himself into you again and again. You buried your face against his shoulder to let out a muffled wail as he sent you right over the edge. Your walls clenched tightly around him, eliciting a primal snarl from his lips. He sank his teeth into your neck as his powerful motions set impressions of that tree bark pressing into your back. With your good leg, you pulled him even deeper, arching into him as you flew off into orbit. A palm slammed over your mouth as he railed you into that tree to stifle the litany of cries erupting from your throat. Your head hit the wood behind you. He kept you pinned firmly there while fucking you into oblivion.

Your world melted away into nothing but the input of pleasure ripping through your body. The surrounding forest faded away. All you could hear was your own muffled heavy breathing, Kisame's grunts, and the slick sounds your bodies made between rhythmic contact. Every inch of you pulsed and throbbed with heat. Orgasm after orgasm tore through you in a continuous wave that left you with numbed legs and a soaked core. Your head was adrift in the clouds, the situation seeming impossible. Your new partner railing you against a tree in enemy territory was not your plan for this mission, but hell, you weren't going to question it. Your body ached and hungered for more. You kissed him as though he were your only source of air and you were suffocating.

Kisame picked up the pace, digging his fingers more firmly into your ass while keeping a tight clamp over your mouth to muffle the inhuman sounds you were making. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you lost yourself in another powerful crash of an orgasm, strangling his impressive girth with the crushing grip of your walls. A low growl and a series of curses rumbled through his body into yours as the depth of the thrusts increased until the hold your pussy had on him sent him over the edge and milked him dry. He growled your name through his release, gripping you tightly against his firm body. The combined sound of your heavy panting was the only thing that could be heard over the breeze rustling through leaves overhead.

That fog in your head slowly began to lift as you caught your breath. Your muscles trembled with fatigue as you dropped your head against his shoulder. "Fuck," you whispered through heavy breaths, slowly running your palms up his chest to his shoulders. Still pinned against the tree with his length buried within you, it took a moment for you to remember where you were. A soft hiss escaped your lips as he shifted your weight, reminding you that there was still a bleeding hole in your thigh.

"You good?" A raspy chuckle rumbled under your head that you had resting against his chest. He maintained his grip on you for the moment, not sure if you were about to go weak in the knees and collapse into a heap if he let you down.

"Yeah, I'm good," you giggled, turning your heated cheek against him before grimacing again when you looked down and saw the rather unfortunate state your leg was in.

Kisame slowly slid his length from you before gently setting your feet back down into the crunchy leaves littering the forest floor. With an arm still around your back for the sake of your stability, he glanced down at what you were eyeing, spotting your wound and what looked like a stain of pink that wasn't blood still flushing the surrounding skin. He carefully brushed his fingers against it, picking up a swipe of the gooey substance that you had wiped on your pants earlier that had seeped through the fabric and into your wound when you were hit. "What's this?" He inquired curiously, giving it a sniff.

"Some sap or something that was oozing from that bow," you breathed, shifting your weight onto your good leg and breathing heavily still as you leaned into him.

Kisame let out a hearty laugh. "You didn't wear gloves when you handled it, did you?"

Your face paled. You had entirely forgotten Pain's instructions regarding the handling of that weapon in your haste to leave with it during Kisame's little rumble with the defending army. "Oh, god -- damnit." An embarrassed laugh started shaking your shoulders as you defeatedly let your forehead fall against his chest.

"That bow is made of cherub wood. While it makes excellent longbows, its sap is also the primary ingredient in aphrodisiacs," Kisame teased. The embarrassed giggling overtook you and melted into genuine, hysterical laughter.

"Woops."

#kisame x reader #kisame smut #akatsuki x reader #naruto x reader #naruto smut #chanfictions

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ganymedesclock · 4 years ago

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So I discovered the trailer for Belle (2021), and it’s making me think about what I love about Beauty and the Beast riffs, and what makes a story scratch that particular itch for me or not.

And I think a huge part of it for me is the examination of monstrosity as a social role. To just use Disney’s animated classic as my base for comparison here, Adam, The Beast, is not literally cursed with fur and fangs, claws and horns- he has those things, and may have mixed feelings about them, others certainly have bad reactions to them-

-his curse is ostracization. His curse is to not be seen as human. What actual, physical features he has are irrelevant to that. They’re just quirks he can learn to live with, or a further excuse to tell himself he deserves this isolation, this frustration, this misery.

So the breaking of the curse, to me, is not the scene where Belle sobs confirmation of what we knew well before then into his stilling chest and brings him back, minus those quirks- if anything, that his happiness comes with the loss of those things has seemed to me (and I’m not alone) as almost something of a betrayal depending on how it’s framed.

By contrast, to me, the breaking of the curse is the ballroom scene, and the moments leading up to it. Adam returns to Adam, rather than The Beast, at the point that he decides that he deserves to be treated like a human being- not as a labor of love from Belle, but from himself. Yes, it’s love with Belle that they dance together, that they have this ball scene when there’s no high society to impress, but before that point, he had to make a decision; that he can clean up and dress nice and have an evening. That he deserves to.

When we first see The Beast, he has all of the means and resources to act like a prince, to present like one. He could make himself comfortable and be surrounded by splendor, but the truest thing he suffers under is he’s ceased to see himself as worth the effort. It’s not as if he could cut the fur down and prune back his claws, file down the horns, and look the way he feels he ought to- the way he thinks he should. He’s broken every mirror in his house except for the one he hides from, and this is a gesture of absolute defeat. He knows what he looks like. He can’t pretend he doesn’t. The only way he can tolerate this is not looking at himself.

As a neurodivergent queer person, the monster in the mirror is something I have a very complicated relationship with. I have an “advantage” in some ways. My appearance is not shocking to most people. I do not benefit from an obvious mobility aid or assistive device; I speak within a range people think of is normal. I have an “unusual haircut” for a “girl” and I don’t aggressively correct people on my pronouns or presentation.

But I’ve always had this feeling, that perhaps, my fangs and fur were simply easy things to trim off, and it’s so easy to wonder, would I still be okay if they weren’t? Because really, it’s none of the granular details that make a monster. For every imagined horror creature, there’s almost certainly a real animal it resembles, and real animals are not monsters. A monster is a monster; anything else, we believe, has a place, has a home. Deserves to exist.

To be a monster is to be a thing that doesn’t fit, or, more directly, to be a monster is to be a thing that is unaccepted. Rejected for not fitting. Unworthy of love, from within, or without.

At the end of the day, I know, factually, I am not a monster. I know that I’m a real person. I know that I deserve dignity and respect and love, even if only from myself. I’m not owed another person to love me just to prove that I can be, but, also, no man is an island; as humans we seek each other one way or another, romantically or platonically. That’s a fact of anyone, not just people who struggle to see a real person when they look at their reflection.

And yet, at this same time, I can’t help but feel betrayed, left behind, when the narrative goes that if the monster does everything right its reward is to be shaped into the likeness of a Real Human Being. Because you can’t just pull a feathered skin off me and make me like I “should be”, like my various diagnoses and self-identifications all present me as an aberration from. If you showed me a me without any of those qualities, that’s honestly the thing I’m the most afraid of, a me without me. A Miss Perfect who’s a good, normative daughter, and in my insecurity I wonder if people would like her so much better than me that they wouldn’t miss if I was gone.

Which, that’s nonsense. I know a lot of people who care about me the way I am. But nobody ever said fears had to be rational.

At the end of the day, as much as I hate the idea of being a monster to others, I also relish the notion of qualities that are categorized as monsters. I love dragons. I love putting big, horrible teeth and leering eyes and wings and claws on heroic characters. Because brought into the light, qualities are just qualities. And if you bring those qualities into the favoring, soft light of stories about human connection, romances, queerplatonic bonds, friendships and found family alike, those qualities can even be charming, alluring, inspiring; a character can look like anything and we still feel a rush of reassurance that this specific character is there.

And that’s the other side of Beauty and the Beast: Adam is running away from being a monster, and Belle is trying to run away from who she is, too. Because Belle is the other side of that trap.

Let’s be honest; it isn’t just that Belle’s an outspoken woman with opinions. It’s that she’s pretty. She’s the prettiest girl in town. She’s someone people want, people have expectations for- and those expectations have little room for what she actually wants. Hell, that’s one of the major dangerous driving forces of the climax- Adam nearly gets murdered by a mob because Belle made a choice that her community really didn’t like, especially Gaston, and it’s easy to point to Adam as the wrong choice because he’s pointy.

“Beauty”, as much as “The Beast”, are dehumanizing categories that people are sorted into. The doll and the monster. One is considered beneath monstrosity; beguiling, an object of appeal and desire but not someone with opinions, oh no, and not someone able to make a choice that you disagree with. People driven to the fringes by opposing forces but regardless find each other in the place they’re trying to find room to breathe in.

And that, I think, is one way some of these riffs can, for me personally, miss the point- and that’s not a mark against them, it’s just that there’s a specific thing I see in this story, and it’s very specifically not, “to be beautiful and desirable to mass public consumption is the way to be happy; we will have a story about how to rehabilitate someone so they can be beautiful too” but rather, “what does it mean when people stop seeing you as yourself, whether the alternative is perfection or a monster? what would you do to be seen clearly?”

#writing ruminations #beauty and the beast #readmore

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Everyone's Problem

TITLE: Everyone’s Problem CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump ORIGINAL IMAGINE: After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her. + Imagine HYDRA has been quietly watching Loki living a quiet life on Earth. They decide it’s finally time to bring him into the fold. It doesn’t exactly work out the way they intended. RATING: T

NOTES/WARNING: Hi, y'all! I haven’t written in a fair while, so I did a quick little one-shot with Charlie to get myself back into shape. It’s probably rough, but cut me some slack! If you’re interested in reading other Charlie stories (there’s a bunch!), you can find them on my masterlist here. Language, mentions of violence, attacks and blood, one v angry human, and typos probably.

“Loki, it’s a stomach ache. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” Charlie remarked for the fiftieth time that morning as she gently shoved the darling Asgardian she called a boyfriend away from her.

Loki huffed for about the same number time. “According to your interweb healers, it could be an autoimmune disorder, an ulcer or gastric cancer! Forgive me if I’m a little worried about–”

“WebMD is not a qualified physician, Loki Odinson! Settle. The fuck. Down!”

Though her tone was no-nonsense, a smile was tugging at the left corner of her plump lips, evidence that she was not nearly as cross as she portrayed herself to be. When she brushed past him, Loki circled his arms around her waist and tugged her into his body, peppering her face with kisses as she made noises of weak protest. Despite his best advances (and really, he was doing his best work here) her laughter began to trickle down and out of existence.

“Loki, stop,” she said firmly, though he was only half listening.

“Stop!” The Prince froze, holding her loosely in his arms. Her tone wasn’t exactly what had caused her to stop his affectionate attack, though. It was the fact that her whole frame had stilled, and her eyes danced from spot to spot as she concentrated on something. “Can you hear that?”

Loki tilted his head and focused. It took a moment, as out of practice in paranoia as he was, but eventually he heard the very distinct pounding of military-grade rubber on linoleum. “Boots.” Quietly, he righted himself, taking silent, measured steps around the furniture, leading Charlie along with him. “Come on. Bedroom. Quickly.”

No sooner had he gotten those words out, the front door slammed open, leaving Charlie to yelp behind him, a handful of his gray heather t-shirt keeping her anchored to his frame. As Loki saw it, there were three men in the immediate vicinity, waving odd-looking guns that bore the signature of the Chitauri. These were not aliens, though. They were humans, who somehow found a way to retrofit the technology to make more powerful weapons. Many had been foolish enough to try it throughout the years, but only one entity bore the skull and tentacled monster on their insignia.

HYDRA.

This was definitely not a great time to still be without magic.

At once, he tried to school the rhythm of his heart, knowing that Charlie was distinctly in tune with the beat and would worry if it seemed like he was in a panic. With delicate fingers, he stroked at her curls, intending to burrow into his side. “Put your arm around me, tuck your head in, don’t let go. Got it?”

She offered little resistance to the order, humming her consent and wrapping her arm tightly around his torso. The feeling gave him comfort, funnily enough, that he was still the warrior that he had trained to be in his youth, despite having lived like a spoiled house cat for the last couple of years. Where in his youth there was glory and blood to be won, today there was only one objective–keep Charlie safe. Loki moved the second the intruders set their scopes on him. Reaching to his left, he grabbed a handful of kitchen knives which would have to do in this pinch and engaged with a growl.

Charlie whimpered, her legs struggled to keep up with his. She could not anticipate his movement and was mostly just being pushed and pulled around the floor while Loki seemed to be skillfully weaving like he was dancing. It also didn’t help that with every jerk of her body and awkward moment, there was the sickening sound of injury filling her ears. In one very distinct occasion, she could feel the breaking of some sort of bone reverberate through her own hand as Loki delivered a blow. Surely, it would be a lot easier for Loki to fight if he didn’t have to worry about Charlie behind him, and the awkward shuffle he had to do to make sure she was never exposed to any of these intruders took significant mental acuity.

When the three in the room had been dealt with, Loki reached for one of their weapons and Charlie’s mobile. He wasted to no time in moving them back through the bedroom door and locking it. Surely, more men would come.

“Stark!”

“Loki, I am, er, dealing with something right now!” The sound of bullets and flying mortar filled the line along with FRIDAY’s voice in the suit. “I’ll need to call you back!”

“Loki.” Charlie’s voice was small and trembling beside him.

Sighing, Loki wrapped his free arm around her and pulled Charlie into his chest. “I have you, love. Don’t worry.”

His lips pressed into her crown. A little bit of battle had shaken away the rust of his instincts and he could feel the distinctive prickle of enemies closing in. He prayed quietly to any entity that would bear to hear his prayers that they would be left alone. There was more noise beyond the door and Loki was left to coo Charlie into silence. He understood her fear, everything to her was a surprise, doubly so when she was scared and couldn’t bring herself to concentrate on her surroundings.

“I’m going to need you to run to the bathroom and lock yourself there, dove.”

Her hazel eyes zeroed in on him with rage-filled acuity. “You’re insane if you think I’m leaving you.”

“Darling, I cannot protect you if I’m busy minding you from getting hurt!”

Her eyes widened. There was panic in her empty gaze if the fidgeting of her fisted hands was anything to go by and it pained him to think that he could not even offer her an empty promise. “No, please! Please, don’t leave me. I–I can’t deal with it if you’re not with me.”

Loki smiled, sighing at the sweet ache of her words on his heart, and cupped her cheeks, dusting them with speckles of others’ blood. “You are braver than this, Charlotte Camden.” His thumbs brushed over her bronzed cheekbones affectionately. “I know you are. So you go and keep yourself safe and I will–”

The bedroom door rammed open with a deafening crash of cracked wood and rained splinters over the couple.

“Go! Go now!”

Charlie reluctantly disengaged, taking a running leap towards the bathroom door and slammed it behind her. Her ear pressed up against the wood to hear the scuffling. It sounded like a bigger force had come in and Charlie swallowed the panicked yelp threatening to bubble up her throat. Loki was a great fighter, but without his magic there was little for him to do if he was incapacitated. All she could do was hope that he was faster, stronger, better than these intruders.

And that’s when she heard it.

His voice.

Screaming.

Screaming like he did when he had a nightmare.

Screaming like when he remembered the blood and gore that he caused and the damage he had done.

Screaming like when he discovered that the extent of his monstrosity went beyond a lineage he had been lied about and the fickle lies he had been fed by a tyrant.

And then she heard it again.

And again.

And again…

And just when she thought her heart could take no more, she heard a body thud onto the ground and the shuffling stop and she feared the worst.

And then her bracelets activated.

Nearly a year of having the damn things on her and she had forgotten that they served any purpose other than setting off the metal detectors everywhere she went. The nanites built up around her in one swift wave. It took Charlie a moment to orient herself back to the seeing world. The colors on the screen still gave her a headache, her eyes still were unfocused, but that was due to her nearsightedness more than anything else, but it was still usable. And the updates Tony had made to the AI over the years made it easy to navigate through the controls.

She kicked the door open at once. Five figures turned back to her while another three were trying to get Loki’s annoyingly heavy body onto a cot to wheel him away. There was blood on his shirt, wounds seeping the dark treacly liquid from stab wounds used to subdue him, he looked pale, but his chest was still moving air and he was muttering deliriously under his breath.

He was alive.

So every one of them now had to die.

The gauntlets whined as the blasters charged and knocked them clean out of their boots. She supposed Tony didn’t think she would ever try to blast anything at full power, but lo and behold her rage was transcendental. They tried to restructure, protect the ones trying to take Loki away while fighting her off. Bullets ricocheted off her armor, letting her forge forward, blasters pumping out energy and leaving a trail of crumpled bodies. Taking a run, her body propelled off the ground, landing with a loud thud just in front of the door and cutting off their escape.

“Put. Him. Down.”

Rifles came up to point at her. Seven in total. They fired in unison, and she raised her arms, flinching instinctually from the projectiles that were intent on ripping into her armor. Charlie’s teeth grit tightly as she waited for the jolt of bullets to knock her backwards. They never came.

I thought it might be helpful to unlock Loki’s magic from the bracelets, the AI spoke into her ear.

When she blinked up, a blanket of green held the bullets in place, swirling in the ether of his magic. Her breath caught. This was definitely not something Tony had mentioned the last time she went in for a tune-up. He had failed to mention that the dampener Loki wore, implanted just under the skin of his bicep was feeding directly into the nanites or that there was any way to access the power. What was stranger was that the magic even listened to her, in the first place. By Loki’s tales, it was untamable force and most sorcerers never got very far without proper instruction. This was most odd.

Guns cocked and reloaded, breaking her out of her reverie. With a flick of her fingers, the bullets turned and resumed their trajectory, delivered back to sender. Another flourish, she disposed of the ones carrying the medical backboard with Loki in it and he fell to the carpeted ground with a groan.

Headache in full swing, she ran to his side, pushing away bodies to fall to her knees beside him. Nanites receded from her hands to touch his cheek.

“Loki. Babe, look at me.”

A wry smile curled his lips. “I am. I’m just very tired.” He chuckled, ending it with a cough and a groan. “Well, that answers the question where has my magic gone all this time?” He blinked a little longer each time as the darkness threatened to drag him down.

“Don’t close your eyes. Please. I need to get you to Tony’s.”

He giggled a little deliriously. “Magic suits you, petal.”

“Jesus, I really do need to get you to Tony’s.” Nanites back over her hands, she pulled his long frame into her arms and heaved. Even with the armor, he was decidedly heavier than any human she had ever met. For a second, she debated going out the front door, but seeing as her apartment was pretty much totaled, anyway, she burst through a window and into the New York skyline.

Loki blinked awake to the sounds of Charlie berating someone to within an inch of their life. He smiled, settling back into the covers with a grin despite the obvious pain radiating from just under his ribs and the dull ache in his skull. He peeked an eye open to see Stark, actively cowering backwards, away from her tone, narrowly avoiding her walking cane whenever she gestured wildly.

“It would have been nice to know how to activate the damn thing before Loki got fucking stabbed or I felt absolutely sure that he was dead because you put in a life or death trigger on the damn suit! And don’t get me fucking started on the fact that I’ve been carrying Loki’s magic for the last year and had no fucking clue about it!”

“I’m sorry! I was trying to keep you from playing with the suit for funsies instead of–”

“WE ALMOST DIED AND YOU WERE BUSY WITH YOUR OWN HYDRA ASSHOLES! WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO DO? WAIT FOR YOU TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED BEFORE–”

“Charlie, love,” Loki hoarsed, and the tirade immediately quieted. Charlie rushed over to the bedside, briefly tripping over a chair leg before clambering onto his cot and covering his face with kisses. “Dove, I’m bound to be disgusting at the moment,” he protested weakly, but still pulled her closer by the waist.

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you, too. My savior.” He cupped her face in his hands, absorbing the warmth from her beaming smile. “Glorious. Truly glorious.” He ran his fingers through her curls, bringing them back into shape from their crumpled form. Clearly she had been sleeping here with him and not necessarily keeping up with brushing–that was usually his task, anyway–but her crumpled clothes and dark circles under her eyes belied the worry she felt for him. It made his stomach warm several times over.

“I found your magic.”

He chuckled. “I recall. You can keep it safe for me.” He looked briefly at Tony who was pretending not to smile in the corner. “Do we know what happened?”

“Looking for you, buddy boy. They were a little disappointed you couldn’t do the hocus pocus stuff, but they caught onto the problem pretty quick.”

“I’m the problem,” Charlie muttered, snuggling into his side.

“Mmm, what a lovely problem to have,” he whispered before kissing her crown.

“Look, I’ll talk to your old man and see if we can’t get your sparkles and pixie dust ban lifted–”

“Don’t bother. I can teach Charlie how to use magic if you give her access. He said I couldn’t use seidr, not that I couldn’t teach someone else to wield it.”

Tony looked apprehensive, wincing slightly at the suggestion. “You sure you want to give Live Wire there that kind of ammunition?”

“Oh, if they don’t want to allow me to use my power, that is fine. But I am making her everyone’s problem. Aren’t I, sweet?”

Charlie simply snickered, leaving Tony to groan loudly as he stepped out of the hospital room.

#Loki #Others #Submitted one shot #submission #everybody's problem #fanfictrashdump

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runeterrankhaleesi · 3 years ago

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Hey, Khaleesi! Remember that alternate Ruination link? So here, for @theruinednymph and all who don't understand Polish, I give a translation of the script to English :)

Here's the (more or less accurately) translated version of Marvecc's Ruination. I'm giving you the closest thing to what he said but in English. Sorry for inevitable inconsistencies, typos and misspellings 😅

It is commonly known that for quite some time I've been complaining about the Ruination, I shamelessly admit. But I think nothing I said was unjustified. When the Ruination came to an end, I had sort of a bad hangover. I noticed wasted potential. "So make a better event. If you're so smart!" So uh… let's try!

I may not have plentiful resources as Riot Games do, I am no graphic designer or animator but I know a bit of game lore so I've decided to take it one step further. I've decided to fix the Ruination. It will be a huge test for me, because some day, in five, ten, fifteen or twenty years I'd like to create my own world. My own universe. That's why today you yourselves will judge if in any way, knowing the lore of some world, I am fit for this task.

Welcome dear viewers, I am Marvecc, and today I will be telling you how, in my opinion, the plot of the Ruination should've looked like, or how I would create it.

Let's assume some basics in the making of the plot. Let's leave the cinematic from the season's beginning because it was fantastic, let's be real, and let's leave the regional structure. It's clear that a very important changing element was the characters' journey in a way that everyone could find themselves in their favorite region. Well, maybe not everyone because not all regions had been presented, but the majority of them. So without further ado, let's move onto my machinations.

As we know, the cinematic ended on a ship with the sight of Senna and Lucian, and in my opinion the champions should've immediately headed for Bilgewater it was there Lucian had allies in the fight against Harrowing and it is there the plot of the game "Ruined King" begins. We reach the harbor, Lucian and Senna meet with Miss Fortune, shed light on the situation and she decides it's time to head to the Temple of Nagakabuross on the hill, asking the high priestess of the Kraken - Illaoi - for help. The four of them meet at an inn, discussing the end of the world and the apocalypse of the undead. Everyone is wondering how to stop Viego. What to do to save the world from destruction. It turns out that our conversation was unintentionally being listened to by Yummi - yes, exactly. Yummi - who quietly has been sitting in a corner in the shadow and eavesdropping on what our champions were talking about. Lucian and Mf obviously laugh the cat off, but she had taken notice of the unease of humans and all creatures while travelling, caused by the sudden attack of the Mist. When those attacks had taken place, she was in Freljord with her friend Braum and they'd witnessed the Mist and its abominations slaughter the inhabitants of one of the Freljordian villages. Braum jumped into the frey, trying to protect the people but he was anguished when he realised that he's, sadly, powerless.

Caring deeply for his homeland, he asked his friend Yummi to try and gather some information. And she did. After a while of sitting on a table, she leaped onto the Book, vanished and jumped out of a portal moments later with Braum in tow. You know, it makes sense, they're both friends and Braum understands that now the biggest threat for the Freljord is Viego. Our characters debate on how to stop him. It turns out however, that they don't really have any plan. They don't see a light at the end of the tunnel. How are they supposed to face the might of the undead, having so little force at their disposal? Now, if the power of Nagakabuross and Illaoi, who despise the dead, is some sort of a natural counterpart to the undead, our group heads to the Temple of the Bearded Lady. Illaoi decides it is there they would find the solution.

And curiously enough, Buhru Sentinel awaits them there with Gwen who met him while searching for Senna whom she'd sensed because Viego didn't take the whole fragment of Isolde's soul, which we know from "the Ruination", as she herself also possesses a fragment. Buhru Sentinel has a similar role. He's, somewhat, an introduction, tells us he'd fixed the connection between the base in Bilgewater and the one in Ixtal - of course I'm talking about the Sentinels' bases. His role is of a man who travels with us, a sage of sorts, who stays behind and repairs the links in bases.

Well then. We've been to Bilgewater and we have the means to travel to Ixtal. You may be thinking "Marvecc, okay, but the event started in Demacia". Mind you. I'm making up my own version. Also, Demacia lies, you know, on the opposite side of the known Runeterra and honestly the Mist comes from Shadow Isles, so we constantly, not paying mind to the danger of it, travel to those regions. In the original Ruination, the role of the Mist had been terribly diminished to a substance which just searches for Isolde. I would make it so that we fear the Mist. We fear Viego's army and we flee from east to west, not go to random locations. And obviously we don't go to Shadow Isles just like that in the end where a huge army if undead resides which for some reason can't see us and doesn't murder us on sight.. Of course, just so you know. The Mist can materialise in various places thanks to Vex, as it was shown in the cinematic but a path from Shadow Isles - escape from the Mist - seems more logical to me than braving overtaken regions.

Anyway, Buhru Sentinel also tells us that he knew about our arrival and had sent Rookie to greet us or welcome us to Bilgewater. He wasn't supposed to reveal anything to Senna and Lucian, because Buhru found out about a Sentinel who abandoned his post and didn't really respect Sentinel's rules - you surely know I mean Akshan - and wanted to check what are the intentions of Senna and Lucian.

At the same time in the scriptures of the first Sentinels, Buhru has found information about an ancient prophecy, foretelling the great return of the King of the Dead and his defeat. Now, just a head's up, because I wrote a prophecy:

Darkness of his heart will swallow the world

Nations and countries will not bend the knee

It is not his goal

It is her goal

Obsession of feeling, love is all that matters

No matter how, it only matters when

The dreary King of the Dead beside his Queen

They shall change the future world

Darkness only darkness can defeat

Love can be beaten by vengeance

And Heavens can fell Death itself.

I don't know what it's like, this was my first prophecy, I hope it's not abysmal, but it will be important later on.

Anyway, our whole group debates on how to defeat Viego and it turns out that they don't have a better chance than to rely on the prophecy. The Sentinels don't know how to trap Viego, how to stop him. So far, they only know that he can be slowed down, with relic weapons for instance but not just with them. But eventually, the old Buhru Sentinel interprets that it won't change a thing. For this reason, our group decides to follow the prophecy and travel to Targon, where, as it is stated, Heavens can fell Death itself.

And that's how our adventure begins, where without chances or resources, Sentinels aren't trying to stop Viego from finding the fetters of his wife, but attempt to follow an ancient prophecy of the Sentinels of Light. Let's add something extra from me. A lore accurate expansion to the cinematic about the Ruination. In the cinematic, the locations of Noxus, Demacia and Ionia weren't an accident, in my version that is. Let's add Freljord as well, because we know that something like this has happened there too but it didn't make it to the cinematic. All those places in my opinion were important to Viego. Why he's so powerful also wasn't really explained by Riot Games. I have a good idea for this. Sure, partially thanks to Vex he could cause a global Ruination, but to me a magical aid of a teenage Yordle is a bit too little.

In Demacia, Viego discovered a piece of his wife, the same in Freljord. When it comes to Ionia, he knows that the land is too magically powerful to allow him to freely take over Runeterra and search for Isolde, when Ionia with its primordial magic can challenge him. This is why, in the cinematic, the Ruined King first wanted to weaken Karma, the land itself and its Spirit, while in Noxus he wanted to check something out. He wanted to discover the dark secrets of the Immortal Bastion. Here, let's remember that Yummi is still with us, and let's assume she knew that Vex fled from Bandle City, met Viego and Yummi figured it out when she encountered the Mist, as she sensed Yordle magic within it. She explained to the group that the combination of the King of the Dead and Yordle magic is.. very powerful. That's why our characters decide on a plan consisting of three elements. First is strictly about the game "Ruined King". Illaoi, Braum and Miss Fortune want to head to Shadow Isles as a distraction, to focus Viego's attention on themselves and buy more time. Yummi goes to the Bandle City to mobilize and convince Yordles to help the creatures of the Physical Realm. And this was the second part. For the third part, Senna, Gwen and Lucian set out to Targon. And here our party splits up.

As we prepare for the journey in "Ruined King" we're attacked by Pyke, which makes sense. MF, as a captain, is on his list. Due to the preparations for the sail, nobody notices anything, nobody notices Pyke. But! MF is saved at the last moment only by a strong tornado which knocks the assassin back. It turns out it's Ahri and Yasuo. The tornado gives Illaoi a chance to subdue Pyke with the power of the Goddess. He's a bit brainwashed and decides to assist in the quest. You know, it would explain his odd behavior. The group thanks for the help and asks who the unknown newcomers are - which are Ahri and Yasuo. Ahri explains that she's looking for a craftsman by the name of Melo, which is accurate with her lore, and Yasuo is her bodyguard, which is accurate as well. During the game "Ruined King" we gather resources for the journey, prepare our crew and collect information as Ahri and Yasuo, to find out that the aforementioned craftsman had headed - for reasons unknown - to Shadow Isles. Because of that. Ahri decides to join the expedition but she and Yasuo don't know - Illaoi, MF or Braum (who's very upset about it) haven't told them - the true goal of the quest, a mission with no return. A mission to delay the march of Viego or at least busy him.

I didn't make up what the craftsman's fate could've been because I didn't write that much about it, I just created the basics. We set to Shadow Isles and - not to make an entire plot to "Ruined King", because it's not the goal of this video - our task is to activate the pillars with the defense mechanism of the Blessed Isles, which could lead to the imprisonment of Viego and the Black Mist. You know, like in the cinematic with Thresh. The overall plot of the game would be about it. But this we would find out from the old Keeper on Shadow Isles. From that moment, our party struggles against the abominations of the Mist, Ahri and Yasuo find out about the true goal of the expedition, Ahri gets to know the truth behind her origins and the craftsman, she develops mutual feelings for Yasuo, only for their mission to fail in the end.

The finale is this: Hecarim stands in the way of Braum when he attempts to activate a pillar, Illaoi - using the Goddess' power - begins winning the fight with Viego (initially she was only supposed to stop him). However, she has used so much of her strength that her influence on Pyke weakened enough for him to snap out of it and take her with him to the depths. Viego - having no better opponent - takes control of MF, Pyke, and on the battlefield remain only Braum duelling Hecarim in the distance, and Viego, MF, Pyke - and of course a lot of creatures of the Mist, nothing new - versus Yasuo and Ahri. Suddenly, on Shadow Isles appears Yummi who hastily exclaims that she will save her friends. Unfortunately, Yasuo realises that the cat won't make it on time. He tells her to save Ahri and Braum, while he alone faces Viego, saying - imagine Yasuo's voice - "Time for me to atone for my sins". With a tornado, Yasuo repels the Mistwraiths as Ahri strikes Viego with all her force, which doesn't do him much harm but disorients him enough for Yummi to take wounded Braum, return for Ahri and the last thing we see in the game is Viego running Yasuo through with his blade. And may I remind you, at that time we didn't know yet that being impaled by Viego causes Ruination. That's why the game ends with a scene in which we are certain that Yasuo dies - because "Ruined King" was supposed to come out before the event. Additionally our characters leave to god-knows-where and Illaoi, from what we know, is also dead. A whole lot of cliffhangers.

That's it for the first part regarding "Ruined King". And considering that the game by Riot Forge was going to come out before the event, instead of the cinematic in Demacia, I would release a cinematic which shows Yasuo's ultimate sacrifice, Ahri and Braum on some neutral background, being approached by a stranger. A tiny stranger with a hammer. And the last look at Shadow Isles, Ruined MF, Pyke and Hecarim. And Hecarim asks Viego: "My liege, what now?" And he replies: "Everything is going according to plan."

Let's leave Yummi's plot for now. Let's now move onto the story from the client. Senna, Lucian, Gwen and Buhru Sentinel, who will be our Wayfinder, a person who repairs the links between quarters, head to the base in Ixtal, which happened to be hidden but lies close to an Ixtalian outpost. Of course, Buhru Sentinel - who, for short, we will be just calling Buhru - stays to fix the portal but characters are taken hostage during a scouting mission. Everyone here thinks they are spies from Piltover, which, lorewise, would be correct. In secrecy to talk with us, comes Qiyana intrigued by our presence, to check what the Sentinels do as she isn't so quick to wrongfully judge them. Senna explains that the Black Mist is approaching and they need to take all measures to fight it. Qiyana goes to Yuntal to give them the story of captured Sentinels. No one approves that she talked to them at all and she is about to be punished but the news of the Black Mist and the undead come from the east borders of Ixtal. Yuntal decides it's not the time to dwell on what Qiyana did, protecting the country from the Mist is their priority now. Ixtal's authorities order for as many citizens as possible to be moved to their archology, to have all masters of the elements stand against the Black Mist. Of course, nobody bothered with releasing Sentinels, because why would they? Qiyana, knowing that this fight is pointless, frees Sentinels, committing treason in the eyes of Ixtal's people and flees with them to Sentinel quarters where Hecarim catches up but is ultimately fended off. Buhru managed to make the connection with the base in Piltover. Before heading out, Sentinels find armor and relic stone in Ixtal quarters and allow Qyiana to upgrade her blade with relic stones, put the armor on and join the ranks of Sentinels of Light. Though, her devotion isn't entirely sincere. She knows that if she's the one to defeat Viego, she will have the right argument to seize the rule over Ixtal. Region's finale goes like this: Viego arrives, talks to Hecarim who tells him the news that the Sentinels have a plan to stop him. The last look is at the capital of Ixtal - Ixaocan - and its siege. As we know, Yuntal - the masters of the elements - are very powerful but have thousands upon thousands of foes to go against.

Let's move on to Piltover. The Mist has also reached it but something stopped it from breaching the city. Senna and Gwen, alone in the quarters, discover the closeness between one another, through the fragments of Viego's wife. Senna suspects everything before Gwen does and tells her that Viego did say that Isolde is his world, and this will be his main plan, which Senna knew earlier already but I won't spoil the ending.

In the base in Piltover we encounter Dess and Adda, of course. Those characters I would 100% leave because they have been very nicely done. Senna tells them of Viego's true plan. Dess and Adda mention a long-nonfunctioning device called Zindel's Incognium, which is able to find every person on Runeterra. Making use of the lack of the Mist in the city, the Sentinels go to Heimerdinger who is the only person capable of uncovering the secrets of the device's function. Heimer initially complains about not having time, about having enough of his own things to do but the professor is ultimately convinced by Gwen's positive attitude and pleas. He repairs the device, and it is revealed that Isolde's fetters are still in Demacia, Freljord and Shurima. The party thanks Heimerdinger for assistance and returns to the quarters. Meanwhile, it turns out Viego also knew about the device from one of the souls from Piltover and headed for the city. And, of course, here initially, during the first wave of the Black Mist, Viego was doing reconnaissance. A scouting of the terrain. But he didn't know, didn't find the locations of all fragments of Isolde. Because, honestly, from what I remember it wasn't specified why Viego and the Mist follow Isolde. Okay, we know that it does and that it's linked to Viego's despair but the despair in itself knows where all the pieces of Viego's wife's soul are? I think if it was made in the way that Viego doesn't have full knowledge about Isolde and the location of her soul's fragments it would've been more interesting. Either way, Viego goes to Piltover. And there at the entrance he meets Janna, and discovers it was her using her powers to defend Piltover and Zaun from the Mist at all costs. You know, Mist, and Janna is the Goddess of the Wind. For 20 days she's been keeping the Mist at bay but exhausted, she was no match for Viego who quickly defeated her. However, because Janna is after all a Goddess and not some poorly dressed lady who is just standing and calling tornadoes, with the last bits of her strength she makes an escape. Although Viego is strong, it's not like other champions are trembling in their boots before him at all times. Viego steps into Piltover, finds the device and bumps into Ziggs who left Zaun to see what's happening. And he notices that Heimerdinger repaired the machine and, being his former student - after being Ruined by Viego - betrays the secrets of the location of the fetters. Ziggs, naturally, gets "Ruined" skin. On the other hand, Heimerdinger brings along Vi and Caitlyn to the base to assure safe return and aid. Both Caitlyn and Vi decide to stay in Piltover to try and stop Viego alongside Adda and Dess but once he discovered the placement of his wife, he'd long made his escape and began his search. The Mistwraiths however, remained. At the end we see Thresh who goes around - like in the normal event - gathers power and collects souls from the Mist. Here, Buhru exclaims that the portal is too weak to take everyone to the same place. But it can take us to two places. Either to the base in Noxus, to find out what Viego wanted to discover there, or ti Shurima. The party breaks apart. Senna, Qiyana and Rookie go to Noxus, while Lucian, Gwen and Buhru - to Shurima. We witness a touching farewell between Lucian and Senna, and canonically the Noxus is unlocked because that's where we head first.

We know that there aren't any fragments of Isolde's soul in Noxus but Senna decides to discover Viego's plans. We come across Darius, Draven and Samira who lead the investigation on this case. Why has the Mist suddenly appeared in Noxus? Draven immediately wants to fight the Sentinels but Darius holds him back, seeing that Sentinels mean no harm to Noxus, quite the opposite. They want to discover what the King's deal is. Turns out that Viego, desiring to become unbeatable, already empowered by Vex, seeks a way to make it impossible for anyone to face him in a duel. And to make sure no one and nothing stands in his way as he searches for his Queen. For this reason, the Ruined King descends into the depths of the Immortal Bastion. He finds the demon summoned by the Black Rose. Viego right away kills all members of the organisation and stands face to face with the demon.

Turns out the Black Rose and LeBlanc beckoned it to fight another monster, another demon. She even has a line in the card game: "One monster to end another".

But the demon is unable to leave the chamber it was summoned in. And so, Viego proposes a deal, to join forces with one another and together become invincible. Why is this particular demon so important for Viego? We know that it is as powerful as big is the sum of its allies and Viego has plenty of allies. Plenty of souls in the Mist. Plenty of the dead. Atakhan realised Viego's potential and agreed to his terms. The demon and the King of the Dead merge into one being. Viego's fingers elongate, his armor appears more ethereal and he's wearing the demon's helmet. Viego gets a skin "Demonic King Viego" or something like that. He leaves the Immortal Bastion and comes across the Sentinels. Seeing him, Draven jumps him, after a second ending up Ruined. Viego naturally laughs at this pathetic attempt and flees. The Ruined King becomes pretty much indestructible.

Darius exclaims that he needs to consult the Grand General, while Samira follows the Sentinels. In Noxus quarters she is given a relic pistol as well as upgrades to her blade. Unfortunately, our team has no clue how to get to Demacia, because as I said Buhru is in Shurima with Lucian. Here, Darius proposes a solution in the form of magically modified Drake Hounds, tame towards those who were assigned to them. The Hounds are made for incredibly fast travels and were supposed to be a special tool for spies and messengers. They only nees a. Couple hours of sleep, thanks to which the Sentinels in around a week would reach Demacia.

Here, we completely cut off from the plot of the Sentinels and Rookie. Instead, we impersonate one of Camavor's soldiers who accompanies Viego alongside many others in a journey to Ionia. There are no fetters there but considering this is the magically primordial land, it poses a threat to Viego's plans. The magic of Vastaysheirei - ancestors of the Vastaya - as well as the Vastaya themselves, and all forces and all champions can use the power of the Spirit Realm and challenge him but this won't be possible once Viego conquers and Ruins Ionia. He goes to the Everlasting Altar right away and duels Karma, for her to ultimately fall. The Spirit of the land was corrupted but the duel didn't last five minutes but rather long hours. Karma realised that the King of the Dead is coming for her much earlier too. Shen, Kennen and Akali answer her summons along with Kinkou Order. Irelia stands with them. The champions try to get through to the Everlasting Altar barred by the wraiths but once Viego seized control over Karma, the fight was turned around. Viego descends along with Karma who throws all fighters back with a flick of her hand. Irelia stands up first and to extinguish the Spirit of the land once and for all, Viego impales her, causing her Ruination. Here, we're avoiding an inconsistency - why Sentinel (Ruined in this story) Irelia could fight with her blades.

Viego, Karma and Irelia vanish into the Mist but the wraiths remain to kill the rest. As they're about to die, Yone arrives, who has sensed the presence of a powerful demon, one he'd never sensed before. He felt the bond with the King of the Dead and came to fight him. Yone rescues the group because his demonic blade of Azakana can cut through the wraiths, and the last to fall is our Camavorian soldier, ran through with a spiritual blade by Shen. Before passing, he heard Kennen say that he has a plan to save Ionia and the whole Runeterra.

Next, we move to Shurima. As I said, we have Lucian, Gwen and Buhru here. And just so you know, because Rookie - the person we associate with - is not here, we remain nobody. A passive spectator of the events. Like we have on Shadow Isles, because Rookie, the person we steer, is bot always necessary. Of course we meey Akshan in Shurima Sentinel outpost, he doesn't give a damn and his story is very similar to the one in the client. I wouldn't change it that much because the construction in my opinion was fine but I would split it into two separate segments.

First - similar to the one in the client. And second - in which Viego heading to Shurima, before he claims the fetter, meets Azir and his devoted soldiers along with Nasus who knew about the approaching calamity from Ixtal - honoring the old alliance of countries. Viego decided he doesn't have time for this, knocked everyone aside and moved onward to reach the fetter which he takes. He kills Lucian and takes Buhru but Akshan revives Lucian, while Gwen - by Lucian's orders - hid herself away in the Hallowed Mist. The group meets up with Azir and Nasus, introduce them into the subject, and the emperor sends his most powerful warrior to join the Sentinels and assist with fighting the dead. Azir stays and defends his land from the wraiths. Nasus is given a special weapon in the quarters and Azir gifts him with the golden armor of the elite. Nasus joins the Sentinels and because Targon is nearby, this part of the team heads there.

Let's come back to the first part of the group. Senna, Qyiana, Samira and Rookie reached Demacia. The Mist has already taken the majority of the known lands and reached the capital of the Kingdom as well. The team meets the Dauntless Vanguard by the entrance who don't want to let them in at first but after Senna explains - that this is the matter of life and death and everything going on around - the warriors call for their leader, Garen who quickly takes the Sentinels to the palace where Jarvan and Tianna Crownguard debate what to do next. How to stop the Mist and Hecarim who - according to a published story - was already in Demacia. As a reasonable ruler, Jarvan simply asks what the Sentinels need. Senna switches off for a moment, hearing a small voice of Isolde whispering, telling Senna to find her in the city. She says she wants to stop Viego, which would add up since she'd already warned Senna in one of the stories. After a while Jarvan asks again and Senna replies "We only need time to stop the advance of the Mist". Jarvan promises to give them as much time as possible and sends Shyvana with them.

When the group leaves the palace, the Ruination is raging across the city. Unexpectedly, from a rooftop jumps down Vayne who says she'd been watching them and has parted with Poppy, and that she's ready to help the Sentinels. Senna - knowing where the base is - heads to the quarters and gives Vayne a weapon, accepting her among the Sentinels. As they leave, everyone spots a flock of wraiths and Camavorian dragons as well as Ruined Cadregrin mounted by Viego. Shyvana decides to battle him but becomes Ruined. The Sentinels flee, prompted by Jarvan and the rest saying that soldiers of Demacia will stop Viego but he grew.. bored after a short fight with Shyvana and followed the Sentinels tracking down his Mist leading them to Isolde's fragment. Taking it, Senna once again hears the voice of Viego's wife and the fragment merges with the one inside of her. Viego arrives and says it's impossible. Isolde doesn't want to return to him? What do you mean? What's that about?? While he's shocked by his wife's behavior, the animated colossus Galio grabs him, which gives the Sentinels some time.

Simultaneously, Poppy appears, telling Vayne that she's found what they'd been looking for. You know. The thing from the cinematic. The Sentinels ask about it, Poppy explains there's no time for that. The champions quickly escape, enter some tenement, dead down into the basement where lies the tile engraved with the symbol of the Sentinels of Light. Poppy says it has taken a lot of time to discover all this and put all the clues together. Senna steps onto the stone, activating a passage in a wall where a secret portal to one of the bases was hidden. The entire group goes out into the unknown. Exactly! Into the unknown. We have no idea what's happening to them. I love such cliffhangers. I think it would be an interesting turn of events.

Once again, we're not Rookie and our plot guy is another Ruined soldier of Camavor. Viego heads to Freljord with Vex where they seek the last inanimate fetter. Not much is happening in the Freljord and Viego passes through one, two, three villages. The Ruined King doesn't fight anyone, he doesn't mean to Ruin anyone, he doesn't particularly care about taking the Freljord. He does nothing but search for the fetter. Vex absolutely dislikes it, asks Viego why he's becoming such a lamer, to which the King orders her to be silent. Vex asks again, again and again what's this about until he loses patience. He strikes her and she lands a good couple of meters further away. Viego floats up - with the demon's aid he can naturally - to the young Yordle and tells her she was just a pawn in his game. She was to empower him so that he could spread the Mist all across Runeterra in search of his wife. Vex is surprised that Viego is so prosaic and he strikes her again, once more causing her to fly quite a distance. The Shadow of course stands up to Viego but it has no chance - it is thrown back as well. Viego leans over Vex, calling her naive and says that after all, she can't undo the spell given to him, that he fulfilled his goal and has no regard for her.

Vex runs away in tears with Shadow's aid, saying "This isn't over yet". Viego finds the last fragment but suddenly he bumps into Thresh. The King asks if he tracked down the rest of the living fetters. He doesn't realise that Thresh is changing, because the Chain Warden tries - thanks to the newfound strength - to manipulate his looks as he did before. Exactly how it was in the novel. Thresh says he'd found Gwen in Targon and that's where the undead are heading but sadly.. he is unable to locate Senna.

We move onto the final region that is Targon. Here, Lucian, Gwen, Nasus, Akshan - you know, the entire party from Shurima - reach the base at the foot of Mount Targon. The group locks themselves inside to reconsider their next move. What happened to Senna, is she going to send them some information as to what they'd found in Noxus, what was Viego looking for? To Lucian all that mattered was that his wife had not returned. Nevertheless, the Sentinels decide to stop for the night at the base to rest up and regain strength. In the morning everyone is woken up by the arrival of Senna, Samira and the rest of the party. Lucian hugs his wife, asking what was happening, how she's back. And she is about to reveal to Lucian and others what happened when suddenly they hear someone calling from outside. "Sentinels of Light! You are surrounded! Come out with dignity and without tricks as our goal is one and the same!"

It turns out that before the base wait armies of Solari and Lunari with Diana, Leona and Atreus on the lead. Everyone is shocked by this sight. Leona comes up to the Sentinels, saying that the Heavens told them of a great threat looming. That the time of the world's union has come. This is why - by Leona's orders - the Solari stand side by side with the Lunari in the face of oncoming doom. While in Ionia, Diana heard the will of the Aspect to the Moon to make haste and return. In Targon she met Aphelios who is now in the army of the Lunari - naturally much smaller in comparison to the Solari - and he'd found Diana's weapon, kept it hidden, knowing that the First Light of the Moon would one day return. This is why Diana would have her blade here. Diana returned to Targon and there duelled Leona as the card game implies but both the Aspect of the Moon and the Sun ordered them to cease, unite against the approaching danger. Senna tells Leona of the ancient prophecy, it turns out that Leona knows it and tells the group to climb Mount Targon as soon as possible, as in the face of such a threat truly only Heavens can lend their aid. Solari and Lunari stay to delay the march of Viego.

At the beginning of the path we meet Taric who becomes our guide. Thanks to his powers and help the journey to the top is incredibly short. In the span of one day the Sentinels - thanks to the help of the Aspect of the Protector, which would be accurate with the lore - summit Mount Targon. Taric helps them bypass the Arbiter but at the top there's.. nothing. Gates to Astral Targon, the place where the Aspects reside remain closed. Sentinels go into a panic, what's happening, why is nothing here? And then.. the Mist reaches the peak. The last place of Runeterra not claimed by Viego. Sentinels lose hope but regardless, they are ready to fight. All Ruined champions step out of the Mist. MF, Pyke, Karma, Shyvana, Ziggs and even the old servants such as Hecarim. Yasuo, if you still remember him, and all others. Additionally, Ruined Atreus comes forth - not Pantheon, let's not be pretentious with resurrecting the Aspect of War. Viego exclaims that the vicious fight at the bottom still continues, that hehe underestimated Targon's strength but he managed to win a duel with Atreus, corrupt him and head with a part of his army to the peak. In desperation, Lucian steps forward and proposes Viego a deal. He can have his soul, he can have whatever he wants, as long as he lets Senna and the Sentinels live.

Viego simply laughs, with one swift motion killing Rookie. Lucian goes into a rage and attacks Viego, but barely in a second Viego laughs again and floats up, runs him through and to Senna's dismay Lucian is Ruined. Very pleased with himself, Viego orders his servants to kill the Sentinels. All Ruined champions charge at them. No hope, none. Here, I imagined a scene, like from the endgame. A portal appears out of which jumps Yummi. A positive little aspect, Gwen is happy to see her favorite cat. Yummi brushes dust off of her fur and nose with her paws and says: "You didn't think we forgot about you, did you?" And THEN. From the portal comes Yone wielding his red blade but the other that of a Sentinel and wearing Sentinel armor. Out comes Sentinel Kennen, Sentinel Tristana with her Gunners and Sentinel Teemo. Yes, Sentinel Teemo ·-·

In addition, Sentinel Poppy, Braum, Ahri and Lulu. It turns out that the second group travelled to Bandle City where Poppy and Kennen were secretly members of the Sentinels from the Spirit Realm, from the city of Yordles. That's why Kennen knew to take Yone to Bandle City and knew what to do next. Poppy too knew what to do in the case of Ruination. It's just a little Yordle twist, not to make the entire event too dark. I was also thinking about Corki because he's cinematically the best Yordle and the cinematics with Yordles in general are probably the best but I was afraid I'd overdo it.

Of course, Viego hasn't been expecting the enormous comeback, he orders to destroy the Sentinels. Some champions generally fight with the armies of wraiths but certain duels break out, like Yasuo/Yone where the elder brother strives to save the younger, Taric, as the Aspect's host and the mightiest warrior, stands against Atreus. In front of Senna stands Lucian who is defeated by her. But during this fight Senna sees Viego tearing out a fragment of Isolde from Gwen who soon collapses to the ground. Then, Senna hears a faint voice saying: "Now".

She drops her cannon, runs up to Viego and musters up her whole strength to draw in fragments of Isolde's soul. Viego, to put it shortly, looked at Senna, intending to end her life but in the same moment Taric - having already won with Ruined Atreus - jumps at Viego. Only he stood some chance. However, after a short struggle Viego manages to, not defeat per se, but knock Taric back. Meanwhile we see Teemo who addresses lieutenant Lulu "It is time". And Lulu, as a powerful sorceress - certainly more so than a teenage Yordle - reverses the spell which Vex bestowed upon Viego. In turn, Viego weakens, he senses it, but says that it changes nothing. Because, really, it does change nothing. The alliance of the demon and the King of the Dead is still much more powerful.

Even still, meanwhile, Senna connects all fragments of Isolde's soul in herself. Senna becomes Isolde. After a moment of transformation, Senna's appearance drastically changes. At first, she looks like a spectre. The fighting stops, everyone is astonished. Viego gazes at his beloved and says "My love, you have returned to me at last". Isolde comes up to Viego, embraces him and strokes his cheek. After a while though, out of the Mist she summons Thresh who approaches asking: "Yes, my lady?" Viego is disoriented and asks Isolde how she knows Thresh, and the Warden replies in his charismatic mannerism: "Well, your highness… I have always been loyal. But not to you." Then Thresh holds up a mask which he secretly obtained in Ixtal and hid from the eyes of all. How? If it was a soul fragment, he could easily lock it in his lantern and make it undetectable to Zindel's Incognium. Now, Thresh pulls the jade mask out from his lantern and tosses it to Isolde who absorbs the last fragment. And from a spectre she turns into a horrid monstrosity. Albeit.. with curves and features of a woman. We know Riot doesn't like to exaggerate. Isolde - or Senna - after the change says to Viego that the Ruler of the Dead can be only one.

In despair, Viego stands before his love, not really knowing what's going on but - not to make him a total noob easy to beat up - he decides "So be it". They cannot defeat him because he's too strong. To which, Thresh lifts his lantern and in the blink of an eye begins to absorb the power from the Mist. Remember the demon I mentioned? The more allies it has, the more powerful it is. I think it would be an interesting way to weaken Viego. You know, Thresh drains the Mist, the souls within it, simultaneously taking power of Viego and the demon. He takes pretty much everything. Even the demon. You still might think I made Viego a bit of a noob anyway because in the end he's still defeated but throughout the whole adventure I was trying to paint him as a guy you really should be afraid of. Who really does something to the Sentinels. Here however, he loses. In the end, Isolde using Senna's power drains the remnants of the Mist from Viego like in the cinematic. His servants stand stunned as he kneels in disbelief. Senna comes up to him and he asks her why she's done that.

Here we have a bit of a retrospection. Isolde tells him that despite his great love, the King treated her as his property, he was sickly jealous and Isolde thinks it was because of him she passed in agony. Because of the pain and misery, the gentle woman changed beyond recognition and wished only for vengeance as her shattered soul also suffered unspeakably. Isolde looks at Akshan and tells him to shoot Viego. He hesitates but she says it's the only way to reverse what Viego had done after his return. To reverse the Ruination of the entire Runeterra. To reverse his deeds. He almost shoots but looks at Isolde, asking how she knows this. And suddenly, she changes to resemble Senna more and with her voice she says she's always here. That she's an ally of Isoldeof. It's only to convince the Sentinels and gain their trust. Akshan takes a shot at Viego. He cannot die but the effects of the Ruination recede from champions as well as the Mist releases Runeterra. Additionally, Gwen creates a prison from Hallowed Mist for Viego. Why Gwen, you ask? Let me explain. Powerful magic of every fantasy world is love. In youth, Isolde pouring her feelings into the doll accidentally - she was no mage but certainly a strongly magical character - creates certain magical abilities which made sort of a sentient construct that afterwards, I mean now, without the soul fragment could exist on its own.

Lucian comes back to himself as well, we have a touching scene but this isn't the end. Terrified, Lucian runs up to Senna. He asks how all this could have happened, what they're going to do now that Senna has two souls. Senna looks at Lucian, a tear runs down her cheek and Thresh says: "It is time, my dear". Lucian turns to the wraith and is about to shoot from his pistol. But Senna stands before him. She turns to Thresh "He at least deserves an explanation". Thresh replies, alright but make it short. Senna reveals a great secret to everyone..

In Bilgewater, after learning of the prophecy she encountered Thresh while she went out to get some air. He already had absorbed some of the Mist and could assume human form. He approached Senna and asked her for the way but she didn't know and had no time to react as Thresh caught her with his chains, saying that if she starts screaming, he's going to kill everyone.. in Bilgewater. Senna promised to be calm, Thresh released her and told her how he hates Viego and if they work together, they can stop him. He explained that Sentinels without aid from the dead stand no chance against Viego. He reveals to Senna Viego's plans regarding Vex, the facts about the demon and Isolde. He adds that this is the only way for Lucian to survive. And here, in spite of herself, Senna decides to trust Thresh. She shares the prophecy, the plans of the Sentinels but together they come up with a secret plan of their own.

Thresh convinced that Sentinels's prophecies are worthless and the only way to defeat Viego is to use his weakness against him. Isolde, who - Thresh knows - wants revenge against Viego. And he promises to spare Lucian if Senna absorbs all fragments of Isolde who was unspeakably powerful due to the Ruination, which will cause Senna to have two souls, giving her enough strength to beat Viego. In the end though, the deal was simple. For Thresh's aid Senna promised him the soul of Isolde

Despite his hatred towards Thresh, Lucian understands, Senna explains she did this all to save their love but Thresh grows impatient. Senna takes a couple of steps away, once again changes to Isolde and Thresh begins to drain her soul. It takes a while, everyone is blinded by blue light which fades after a moment. And once it does, we see only Thresh. Without Senna. Thresh becomes even more powerful through the absorption of Isolde's soul. Everyone thought that Senna would remain with them. Disoriented Lucian furiously says that it was supposed to be just Isolde. To which Thresh replies: "Don't tell me that after all the trouble you have caused me I would stop tormenting her.. and you."

Laughing, Thresh knocks back everyone with his chain. With the might of thousands of souls, demon and corrupted by Ruination's paradox Isolde, no one present could be a match for him. Most of the Sentinels fall from the summit of Targon bit Yummi - thanks to her Book - saves all one by one and takes them to the bottom where Diana and Leona wait for them. At the peak there is only Taric. Here I will tell you how I pictured it in my head. Immense power of Thresh thrums in the air and his great plan was truly a masterpiece. Taric attempts to attack Thresh but the host of the Aspect of the Protector is also thrown off the peak. But here we have another twist.

Remember the prophecy? It would be nice if it was fulfilled. Grand, golden Astral Gate. Thresh stares stunned as from the sky descends a creature with blazing wings, donning armor of cosmic stone and wielding twin blades burning with astral fire. Kayle returns to Runeterra. She doesn't have her helmet and her eyes are filled with white energy revealing that she.. is an Aspect. Not just a host. But she herself became the Aspect of Justice. The mightiest champion currently residing on Runeterra. In a split of a second she flies up to Thresh and starts a duel. Still, with all the power he possesses, Thresh is certainly a worthy opponent. The fight between the Aspect and the new King of the Dead is murderous. Sentinels, Solari and Lunari gaze up at the skies, at the peak of Targon in awe, watching the shifting colors as Kale and Thresh battle one another. In any case, Thresh - unwilling to lose so soon and endanger his newfound power - says "This isn't over, Aspect", dissolves like mist in the air and retreats. Unmoved by this Kayle flies down to Lunari, Solari and the Sentinels, announcing that an end must be put to Thresh and his likes.

And here we have a bittersweet ending. Yummi returns everyone to respective regions and Viego is moved to Shadow Isles where he's guarded by previously allied with the old Keeper Yorick, and yes, I know the Maiden wasn't here as a fetter but instead of changing the concept, in my Ruination I'd rather not turn it around by 180°. And Yorick, in truce with Kalista and Maokai, guards the King of the Dead and attempts restoration of the isles. The Shadow Isles are still dangerous and betrayed by Thresh Hecarim, Karthus and the likes want to free Viego and give Thresh a payback. We also find out that thanks to the power of her Goddess Illaoi survived and she stays to watch over Viego as well. Thresh on the other hand, no longer bound to Shadow Isles, travels across Runeterra and quietly, without drawing too much attention enlarges his collection of souls and tries to find a way to win with Kayle. All regions try to stand up after the Ruination. Qyiana tries to become the head of Ixtal, Nasus returns to Azir, Leona and Diana decide to bring peace to Targon together. Braum returns to Freljord, Yordles to Bandle City. Meanwhile, Lucian becomes a shadow of himself. Revenge consumes him in full. Vayne and Yone join him to find Thresh and defeat him. Samira and Draven go to Noxus, Irelia goes back with Karma but here I would expand Karma's plot. That she steps out and chooses solitude, unable to forgive herself. You know, all champions go more or less back to normal. I realise there are a bunch of inconsistencies here, more detail is required, dialogues etc. But making this scenario took me about 3 hours. And those unexplained parts should be clarified and if I was working at Riot Gamespolice, I would say before the event that things left unclear will be resolved in future stories. The event itself I would end with such a cinematic:

Vex, attacked and used by Viego, wandered around Ruined Noxus. Unsure what to do with herself she even considered returning toto Bandle City but she came across a man named Yanuk (Januk? Sorry, for the misspellings, I was writing it without a script xD). The very same who told Ezreal to retrieve the Uloa elixir. A special elixir which could revive a certain person. Ezreal however, tricked him. Vex didn't care what Yanuk had to say but he shouted that she looked like she wished for darkness. And he knows how to give it. Along with Shadow, Vex hearing the plan came back toto Yanuk with the Uloa elixir. Yanuk performs the right ritual which leads to a certain dark event. An ethereal gateway opens. And through it steps out none other than Mordekeiser who ends the cinematic with one sentence. Imagine I am saying this with Mordekeiser's voice. "I will show you… Ruination."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

submitted by: @sophi-s

Holy shit, that was super long.

I haven't actually read it because I wanted to share this to everyone as soon as possible, but I WILL read it.

How long did this take you, darling? Three days?

But thank you for this incredible translation and thank you very much for your hardwork. I really appreciate you doing all this for us, thank you sophi-s.

#submission #ruination #lol

10 notes · View notes

hela-avenger · 5 years ago

Text

poison & wine- part 9

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1662

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: Oh my I’m so excited now! Let me know if you’ll like to be tagged!

Hela-Avenger Masterlist

You awoke to the sound of loud whispers coming from somewhere in your room. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and climb out of bed wondering what Asgardian custom this may be only to find Iana, Lynn, and Datya arguing amongst themselves as they stepped out of your closet. They stop speaking the moment they see you awake and you simply offer them a confused smile.

“Good morning,” you greet them.

“Morning,” they whisper back, unable to stare at you for too long.

“Is something wrong?”

You take a step closer and notice that the belongings they had so nicely put away for you are being packed into your bag.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Forgive me, my lady,” Iana answers. “It’s the prince’s orders. We aren’t allowed to say.”

Fear was quick to fill you as you realized that this must be it. The prince was backing out of his word and he was sending you home as a punishment. You were foolish to have ever trusted him and this was the consequence. Your hopes of finding the answers you’ve seeked for so long are long gone.

It is inevitable. The rage that arises inside you.

You did not come this far for a prideful prince to throw you out once your use was done. You deserved more respect than this and if he didn’t realize it then you would just have to demand it of him.

“Where is he?” you ask. “Prince Loki?”

“He’s having tea in the garden,” Datya answers. “He hoped to…”

“I don’t care what he hoped,” you interrupt her as you start to storm out of the room.

“My lady!” Iana shouts. “You can’t possibly leave the room in your nightgown.”

You stop at her alarm and let out a sigh.

“That would be scandalous, I assume?” you ask as you step away from your doors. They all nod in response and you sigh in defeat. “Will you help me get ready? I have a prince to yell at.”

The girls are quick to put themselves to work as they picked one of the Asgardian dresses they had yet to pack away. Sensing your mood, they didn’t push for you to wear green instead opting for a light lilac that had a slit for more mobility. Iana did a quick braid that held all of your hair together which would be useful if you decide to attack the prince for his transgressions.

“Y/N,” Iana calls out to you as you prepare to leave. “Please do be careful with him. He is… He is quick to anger.”

Her concern was touching but you held no fear for the prince.

“He should be the one in fear of me,” you respond as you reach your bedroom doors. “For hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Finding the prince was easier than you had expected it to be seeing as the garden was a whole new maze altogether. You chalked it up to your anger and determination for finding him when it all truly came down to the prince having no reason to hide from you. In fact, it was quite the opposite but who were you to know that detail.

“Ah, finally you’re awake,” Loki greets as he catches sight of you. “I’ve been waiting…”

“I can’t believe that after all I did for you last night you had the audacity to pack my things and send me away like a menial one night stand! Who do you even think you are? Just wait till I tell everyone down on Earth of what you’ve done. In fact, I will be more than happy to voice my concerns with your father and mother…”

“Enough!” Loki exclaims in annoyance. He was quickly growing tired of your long tangents. “I’m not sending you back to Midgard.”

All of your anger disappears at his answer leaving only confusion.

“Then why are my things being packed?”

Loki motions for you to take the seat across from him.

“I will explain all,” he answers. “But first, eat.”

You take your seat and notice the arrangement of pastries and fruits in front of you. You pick a few things that caught your attention but you were unable to take a bite out of any of it without getting some sort of an explanation.

“I need to know what’s going on,” you tell the prince. “If I’m not going back to Midgard, then where are you sending me?”

Loki takes a deep breath and knows the answer would only bring back the anger you held just a moment ago.

“Don’t worry, you’ll remain in Asgard,” Loki answers. “I’m just having you moved to a more suitable room.”

“Ok…” you respond unsure why the explanation didn’t seem enough of a consolidation. Iana and the girls were clearly hiding something from you this morning and so was the prince going by his vague response.

“Now, eat,” Loki demands. “I may not know much of how demigods live but your mortal half needs sustenance.”

You take a bite from your plate but refuse to do more. This whole set-up was strange and you didn’t trust his intentions.

Loki sighs noting that you weren’t falling so easily for his ploy. This would certainly make things a bit more complicated. If only he had been kinder to you when it all began this would all be so much easier.

“Very well then,” Loki mutters. “Let’s talk.”

“Finally,” you sight out.

“About you,” he answers, cutting your excitement short. You half expected he would tell you what you wanted to know but it seems he’s got something else in his mind. “After finding out what you are, questions and concerns arose.”

You nod at his response being surprised by his honesty.

“I understand we started on the wrong foot and I wish to apologize for my past actions towards you. If this is going to work, I need you to trust me for your little secret may cause some trouble if others were to find out.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The deadly kind,” Loki answers. “At the moment, only my mother and I know of your birth status and that shall remain that way for your protection.”

You stop eating and try to make sense of all that he has told you. He was being honest, you could sense that oddly enough, but it was his kindness that threw his sincerity off.

“You want something in return .”

Loki grins at the question making you further uneasy.

“And what brings you to that conclusion?”

“You’ve been honest with me which isn’t exactly rare but not something you do unless you need something in return. And you’ve been kind… kind enough to apologize,” you answer. “So what do you want from me?”

Loki had to give it to you. You were smarter than he expected you to be.

“It’s quite a simple request considering I have to protect your little secret.”

“I somehow refuse to believe that,” you mutter leaning back in your chair. “So go on. Just say it. Rip off the band-aid.”

Loki took a sip of his tea delaying the inevitable. You glare at him in return and he takes his time in setting his cup down.

“It seems I do need that date with you after all,” Loki answers with a grin as your eyes widen in alarm. “For I need us to court officially.”

“Court?” you ask knowing that this was no simple request. You knew what courting inferred and it was no simple task. “As in date you for a long period of time?”

Loki rolls his eyes as that was the definition and nods.

“Why?”

“Another requirement for the throne,” Loki answers simply. He wasn’t in the mood to explain all of the unnecessary details.

“But why me?”

“Why not?” Loki answers quickly

You narrow your eyes at him and he lets out a sigh.

“To spite my father.”

You chuckle at his response.

It was no secret that Odin held a disregard for Midgard. Thor had told you of how his father disapproved of his relationship with Dr. Foster. For Loki to try to pull the same ploy seemed a bit risky but who were you to argue with his madness.

“And what does courting entail?”

“It’s much like what you mortals do when you date each other,” Loki answers. “We take our meals together, go on official outings, live together…”

You stop him there putting the pieces together.

“Live together?” you repeat in annoyance. “Are you meaning to say that my things are being moved to your room?”

Loki grins and nods. The anger you held for him before returning with full force.

“I haven’t even agreed to this yet!”

“But you will,” Loki states leaning back in his chair. “You don’t seem to understand that this secret of yours puts you in life-threatening danger and if you are so keen in seeking out this father of yours then you need to remain alive to do so and what better way in doing so than by aligning yourself with me, a royal prince, as I keep your dirty little secret, half-breed?”

You didn’t know that Loki intended to keep this secret no matter the circumstance but for his plan to work, it would be for the best that you remained in the dark about this small detail.

You breathe deeply at hearing this knowing and think over what he’s said. You wanted answers and you wanted to meet your father. He was the only family you had left now. The only one who would be able to survive alongside you for whatever eternity you had left. You needed to find him and you needed to be alive to do so.

“Ok fine,” you answer. “I’ll court you or whatever.”

Loki simply responds with a large grin on his lips and you start to realize you played exactly into his hands.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak

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jokertrap-ran · 4 years ago

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(未定事件簿) 莫弈 [剧情: 第2章] [Tears of Themis] Mo Yi Private Story Translations (Chapter 2-7)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mo Yi’s Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Mo Yi’s Private Story tag is #Tears of a Personal Psychiatrist. *Chapter 1 can be viewed here!

Location: Mo's Mental Health Research Center

After confirming Li Yu's identity, Mo Yi rejected my request to continue taking part in the investigation.

MC: Why!?

MC: It wasn't easy for us to get this far, Dr. Mo! There's no way I can just give up on this so easily!

Mo Yi: …...

But Mo Yi only continued staring at me in silence, a thoughtful look on his face.

Mo Yi: ...Before we put this discussion on the table, please answer me this honestly: Have the PUAs come to you for revenge?

MC: Oh...No… They haven't; why do you ask…?

His sudden question caught me by surprise. I hurriedly avoided his eyes, pretending not to understand his question.

Mo Yi: I'm supposing that the "spam message" you received the other day was actually an SMS they'd sent as harassment.

Mo Yi: And recently, the actions that these people have been taking have been getting more and more aggressive; essentially having even affected your daily life to a certain extent.

Mo Yi: That's why you said they were "arrogant"; am I right?

MC: !!!

MC: ...Nothing gets past you after all.

I couldn’t help but to sigh, deciding to come clean about everything that I’d been hiding from him recently.

MC: Yeah. Some PUAs have been verbally harassing me with threats lately.

Mo Yi: When did this start?

MC: Probably not long after the “Anti-PUA” Club turned into a mutual aid group. Someone had suddenly added me as a friend one day.

MC: They asked if I was the Lawyer who’d helped Lin Yunyun, and I thought that they were also a fellow victim, so I replied in the affirmative; but in the end...

I couldn’t stop all the many different sorts of harassment messages that I’d received recently from popping back up in my mind at the thought of it.

Those messages, not fit to be shown to anyone at all, were always sent to my phone at fixed timings. There were countless, so many that I could never delete them all even if I tried. It gradually became a personal living hell of nightmares.

MC: There were only a few people who did it sporadically at first, so blacklisting and blocking them worked like a charm; but then the number of people doing it increased...

MC: Why do they always choose to bombard people during sleeping hours!? Don’t these people need sleep too!?

However, I’d failed to notice how Mo Yi’s face was twisting itself into an increasingly unsightly look at this moment in time.

Mo Yi: ...Why didn’t you tell me? How were you planning to put up with this alone, if I hadn’t asked today?

MC: Well… It wasn’t anything big at all. They only sent me a couple of unpleasant texts, and it didn’t really cause a big impact on me or anything like that.

MC: Anyway, let’s not talk about this anymore and get back on the topic of how to continue our investigation. I—

Mo Yi: I apologize, but my stand is still the same; it’ll be for the best if you don’t take part in the upcoming course of action.

MC: ……

Mo Yi: ……

That was how Mo Yi and I faced each other in a stand-off; neither of us saying anything, neither of us willing to back down.

The air came to a stand-still, the damning silence that would make anyone hold their breaths accompanied by the faint scent of “gunpowder”, as figurative sparks filled the air.

MC: Then, could you tell me a reason why I should not? I can’t give up on this just because you tell me to, Dr. Mo.

Mo Yi: ……

Mo Yi: I have three reasons for this.

Mo Yi: Firstly, although Li Yu’s story was created from one big patchwork, Wang Chen is still an experienced PUA, from what we can glimpse from the credible parts of her story.

Mo Yi: I cannot allow you to interact with him alone, considering how you’ve not received the relevant training.

Mo Yi: Secondly, although our actions have not been fully exposed yet, the fact that the other party retaliated against you means that they’ve already got their eye on you.

Mo Yi: If this goes any further, it will only escalate; and when the time comes, it won’t just be merely verbal words of threat.

Mo Yi: They will attempt to break through your psychological defenses from all angles, thus, endangering your very life itself.

Mo Yi: And lastly…

He placed the teacup in his hands down, his gaze dropping to my face, an inexplicable emotion within his golden orbs.

Mo Yi: Just what’s in your mind, as you do these things?

Mo Yi: Is it to uphold justice? To deter the other members of the PUA Group? Or is it to save all of the girls who’ve been harmed by it?

Mo Yi: Can you really do all of this?

Mo Yi: Even if we did settle this matter with Li Yu along with all the other people backing her, there’ll still be other PUA Groups in this world who lurk in the dark.

Mo Yi: They’ll continue hunting girls, and even go so far as to treat you as a right thorn in their side, using various methods to retaliate against you to no ends.

Mo Yi: And at the very end of it all, not only will you fail to protect others; You might also very well be unable to protect yourself.

Mo Yi: This fairness and justice you seek might not be able to see the light at all.

Mo Yi: Now, with all that considered; are you still willing to continue on?

He waited quietly for my answer after finishing.

He had a look of utter seriousness on his face, so focused he was. However, the corners of his eyes and his eyebrows still presented the same calm he’d always displayed. Hence, I couldn’t tell just what exactly was going through his head.

But none of these mattered anymore. I don’t even need to think to answer this question of his.

MC: Of course. Even so, I still wish to continue as usual.

Mo Yi: Why?

MC: You just asked me what’s in my mind as I do this, right? I’m actually not thinking of anything at all; no thoughts, head empty.

MC: I’ve never held onto any pipedreams, nor have I ever thought of using this PUA Group to go fight against the other PUAs.

MC: Granted, trying to rescue all the girls who’ve been victimized is an even bigger delusion.

MC: I’m only trying to do what I can as one, ordinary, Lawyer.

MC: That being said, there’s one thing that I know for certain. And that is that I cannot ignore the crimes that appear before me.

MC: I cannot allow the group that’s backing Li Yu to go scot-free, let alone allow them to challenge law and threaten justice as they so wish to.

Mo Yi: You...

MC: Secondly, you said that I “cannot protect others”; but there isn’t only just one fixed way of protection.

MC: Don't all the girls in Lin Yunyun's mutual aid group learn a lot about all sorts of things pertaining to PUA?

MC: All that's requires is for one of those girls to understand these through what I've done; so that they'll keep their guards up and watch out for these things.

MC: If so, then everything I've done up till today have already served some sort of purpose in protecting them.

MC: And lastly, about their cars if revenge…

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes at the mere thought of those less than savory messages I'd received.

MC: I've already been prepared to face all sorts of people, who come up with all sorts of retaliation methods, since day one of being a Lawyer.

MC: But if really does come down to the point where it gets as serious as you've described, then that's when I'll wield the Law as my weapon and protect my own rights.

MC: The road to justice will always be a rocky one, but no one can stop me so long as I refuse to give up.

Mo Yi: ……

I blurted out everything that I had in my mind, even forgetting to check just what sort of expression Mo Yi currently wore.

It was only until I had regained my bearings that I looked back up at him. He was still looking at me with a serious look on his face, yet his eyes were like that of stormy seas.

Mo Yi: You… You’re really different from everyone else.

He suddenly laughed.

MC: What are you laughing about, Dr. Mo?

Mo Yi: Nothing. I’m just feeling slightly fortunate, and a little happy.

MC: Fortunate? Happy?

Mo Yi: Yes. Fortunate, that I chose to stay back then; and happy, because… I met you.

Mo Yi: You always never fail to surprise me.

MC: ……

He spoke slowly, but that didn't fail to impede the strength and impact that each word brought.

It was almost as if he had just conveyed some sort of inexplicable feeling to me through mere words. It was hot, yet full of possessiveness, almost engulfing me whole.

MC: Does this mean that… I can take part in the continuing investigations?

I hurriedly changed the subject upon seeing how the air around us was starting to turn increasingly warmer.

Mo Yi: Do I have any other reason to be denying you?

MC: Great! Then let’s hurry and get started!

MC: Do you need me to contact Wang Chen? Are we still going to be using our previous tactic?

Mo Yi: Don’t rush, for starters. I’ve got even better ideas.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-6) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-8)

#Tears of Themis #Mo Yi #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #莫弈 #Private Story #Tears of a Personal Psychiatrist

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boogiewrites · 5 years ago

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Which is harder? Being honest or you?

Characters: Billy Butcher x OFC

Summary: She's been involved in the messy world of The Boys for years now, same sad story, a Supe killed her husband, and now she's out for revenge. The years pile up, and so do the stresses and anniversaries of deaths. On a night after the death of her husband, she finds herself worried about Butcher making it back from a job. Is it the booze that makes her so honest with him when he asks her what's wrong? Is it the booze that makes her admit to what she really needs that night? Or was it inevitable between them all along?

Warnings/Tags: Sexual content. Spanking/Slapping’ Rough, slight Dom/Sub undertones. Bed sharing. Enemies to friends to lovers. Inevitable chemistry.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Her nails tapped an unsteady rhythm against the cheap countertop of the motel room kitchen. She’d been alone for two days now and although not unfamiliar with the isolation, she had been due company for over 12 hours now.

There are lots of aspects of living off the grid that you can get used to. It’s amazing what the brain can start to see as normal that once would’ve made you piss yourself and then faint. That was the sort of life that she lived now. So far removed from the game nights and Netflix, sleeping in on weekends and boozy brunches that she has once so blindly taken for granted. Now there was sleeping with one eye open, free motel HBO on occasion and rushed check-ins with others like her. The booze was still the same, but it was used as a tool, a vice now to forget.

With the half-empty bottle of bourbon still grasped in her hand in the outdated and questionably sterile smelling room, she stares at the sliver of light coming between the thick curtains that kept her hidden from the outside world. The drinking wasn’t so bad when she had others to do it with, but when she was alone it led her mind to let loose those thoughts she fought so hard to keep stowed away during her waking hours. This is where she found herself now. In a sleep-deprived, drunken haze that was leaning heavily on paranoia and exhaustion.

Billy should have been back by now, she keeps thinking on a broken record in her head. Never known for his punctuality, the nature of the job they set out to do made his absence make her nervous. It reminded her of the night she stayed up waiting for her husband. The night he never came home.

She had a back story, same as the rest of the boys, she was nothing special among them. Dead spouse, Supe behind it, revenge and rage fueling her and keeping her warm at night. Billy had recruited her the same way as Hughie. Same speech, same lies, same Butcher.

It used to bother her when she found out that Billy wasn’t as connected to her as it felt initially. But she decided to use it, to kill off that bit of her that died with her husband and be someone else now. Someone who didn’t believe anything anyone said, someone who could take a stand and do what was right even if it was hard and most radically different, someone who could kill. After the first, it seemed like, what was another one? Her terms of endearment turned to insults and swearing and soon grizzled was a look she didn’t run from. It made life a lot easier, it certainly made working with a man like Billy Butcher easier. Most days. But today was not one of those days.

With another year passing unceremoniously of her husband's death a few days ago, that comforting pull of nostalgia was hard on her thoughts. And the booze wasn’t helping. Another hour passes, another inch went from the bottle and she decides to try to tune out the world for a bit. It was a luxury that is rarely afforded to them now, but this room had a full-size tub and she had some dollar store bath bombs she’d lifted and she wasn’t about to let Billy catch wind of her feminine indulgence and it didn’t seem like he was in any rush to get back. If he wasn’t dead.

A hot bath still has the same baptismal effect as it always had. She felt cleaner and lighter. A woman looked back at her in the mirror, contrary to the usual sexless human form she viewed herself as for ease of functioning. With the ends of her hair damp and curled, falling past her shoulders, the longest it had been since she was a child and only due to a lack of visits to a hair salon and not a conscious choice. It wasn’t exactly something she could take the time to do nowadays. Her skin shone bright with the lotion she kept in her bag, sinking in after the heat opened up her pores. Her cheeks were flushed pink as her nipples as she ran her hand through her hair and shrugged at her reflection. Life on the run was hard on your body, but she has to admit she hasn’t looked better in recent memory. Muscles that visibly moved under the skin from training, and a layer of fat from diner food to keep her looking young despite the years that kept piling up. Her eyes were really where the age showed, but the things they’d seen also added to that in the form of lack of sleep and PTSD.

Walking out of the bathroom with a plume of steam following her in a tank top with a sarcastic line on it she’d grabbed at a truck stop and the most basic cotton panties in a 6-pack she’d grabbed just as unceremoniously from a dollar store. She padded out in fuzzy socks into the tiled floor that lead into the small kitchenette. No matter the nasty muck she got herself elbow deep into on a regular basis, she wasn’t going to let some random disease be what killed her off that she’d surely catch from walking around the motel carpet barefoot. She got one of the highball glasses by the coffee pot and a handful of ice cubes plunked into it before a healthy pour of straight bourbon followed. She looked at her phone in the counter, it was now late and there were no signs of Billy.

“Where the fuck are you Butch?” She mutters before sighing and taking a sip.

“Ya worried bout me, love? Carin’ innit a look I’m accustomed to seein’ on ya.” The man in question responds and she sputters a dribble down her chin in surprise.

”Christ.” She groans, taking a washcloth and dabbing at her shirt.

“Far from it.” He grins, taking his boots off as he watches her from his spot on the bed with his usual smugness.

“You just stand in dark corners unannounced after being…” She looks to be phone again. “Almost a day late on arrival? You get off on scaring women or something?”

“Nah. Not my kink.” He shakes his head. “I had to do it at my own pace, this one. Got a bit messy.”

“Could’ve let someone know? Four more hours and I would’ve been out of here.”

“I couldn’t exactly ring ya up now could I? And I wasn’t four hours later, I’m here now so calm down, keep ya knickers on and pour me whatever ya got.”

“Not a problem.” She rolls her eyes. “I take it everything’s as it should be?”

“More or less.” He takes the glass from her hand as she sits across from him on the other queen bed in the room. “How bout you?”

“Finished early.” She says taking a long drink. Billy can see the tiredness in her eyes as they close and savor the bourbon for a brief second. Her movements weren’t sharp, neither were her words. Although for him she rarely had many.

“And started drinkin' the same from the looks of it.”

“Maybe. Waiting on you, what else was I supposed to do? What took you so long?”

“Had to make another stop before I came back.”

“Where?”

He stops with his elbows on his knees and gives her a once over. “Why?”

“We’re stuck together for the foreseeable future, I think I should know what you’re up to.”

“It’s nothing you need to know. If ya did, I’d tell you. Don’t you have any trust in me after all these years?”

“No.” She states obviously with a laugh at his ridiculous claim. “I’m not a fucking idiot. So tell me where you were.”

“Job ran long. Had to follow to a secondary location.”

“You’re full of shit.” She retorts with a raised brow as she leans on one hand onto the scratchy comforter beneath her.

“Can never get it past you can I?” He tried his charm with a grin and tilt of his head.

“No, you can’t so I don’t know why you INSIST on continuously trying.” She answers with a wave of her glass.

“In my nature to defy.” Is his deflecting, Cheeky answer.

“Although I can agree with that, you’re still avoiding my question.”

“I went to see someone and came back here. Job did run long. That ain’t a lie.”

She purses her lips and studies his face and finds him honest. “Alright...who?”

“Don’t know em” he shrugs and blinks slowly.

“BUTCHER!” She groans loudly and throws her head back. “You’re fucking exhausting!”

“Fanks, love. I’m a bit prideful of my endurance ya know.”

She takes her foot and kicks his shin.

“Fuckin hell, been beaten up enough the past few days let’s not add to it now, yeah?”

“Just fucking tell me then, asshole. Or I’ll smash this glass on that thick skull of yours.”

“I’m inclined to believe you.” He gruffs out at her before rubbing the back of his head. “I went to see Sindy.” He blurts it out quickly as if it would be less painful to deliver the news fast like ripping off a band-aid.

“Of fucking COURSE you did.” She announces her disapproval loudly to the ceiling and stands.

“She had some info for me.” He begins to defend himself against the outpouring of hateful glares she was sending his way. Sure Sindy had a track record of fucking Supe’s. She’s even lured them into a trap once and it only took one time to learn a lesson for her but clearly Butcher was willing to fuck up again.

“Was it about 6 inches inside her? Or am I being too generous?” She snarks back with a swing of hip and hand as she walks back to the counter. There was no care for Butcher seeing her in so little, it was all part of their lifestyle. Not much left to mystery when you got into the situations they did.

“What? You fink ats Why I went?” His posture straightens as he watches her move away.

“The girl is practically on her knees with her tongue out for you Butch. You’re as close to a Supe as us humans get. You’ve gotten close and she gets wet for anything to do with them so...yeah. I do think that’s why.” She stays with clinking ice cubes rattling in her glass with her drunkenly expressive hand movements.

“That fascination with Supes is why I believed her when she said she had something on Homelander.”

“All she’s got for him is daddy issues.Same As what she’s got for you.”

“That’s not very feminist of ya now innit?” He points out with an accusatory hand as he stands. He’d need another drink to deal with whatever mood she was in tonight.

“I don’t give a fuck. Man.” She says with a furrowed brow and another burning gulp. “I don’t trust her. And neither should you.”

“I gave her nothin', she gave me the info. No risk on my behalf.”

“Except what you night catch.” She mutters into her glass.

“What’s up your arse tonight?” He demands as he rests his arms onto the counter and studies her face.

“Fucking .nothing.”

“And THAT everyone.” He speaks to an imaginary crowd. “Is called a textbook lie.”

“You being a dumb ass is grating on me.” She retorts.

“That is more believable but ya not quite there.” He motions for more with his hand to her.

“You’re a reckless twat who would rather fuck that barely legal liar than let your partner know you’re alive.”

“You really fink I went to fuck her?” His response has a laugh to it.

“That’s what I said isn’t it?”

“Why in the FUCK do you fink I’d do that?” He stands and laughs. “You’re fuckin ridiculous sometimes, love.” He chuckles as he takes a drink.

“Because I have eyes? Because you’re a man and she’s...a tiny little... young thing.” She speaks plainly with an outstretched hand to lay out her points.

“What use I got for that, yeah?”

His answer catches her off guard and she blinks rapidly, detecting no lie.

“Man like me? With something like her? Nah, mate.” He shakes his head. “That child's got nothin’ what interests me but the information she leaks.” He states with high brows and a haughty delivery. “I’d rather have a wank than fuck her.” He lowers his voice and leans forward. “Nothin she can offer I need. Not that it is, in fact, any of your business, but in the name of honesty n that, I’ve never been much for that… young and dumb and full of cum thing what she plays at.”

She doesn’t respond, her state of inebriation catching her by surprise as she visibly reacts to his words with a tilted head.

“What? Ya don’t believe me? You can tell when I’m lyin’, Betta than anyone else, what do you fink?”

“You’re telling the truth and that’s so rare I’m shocked.” She responds in a deadpan delivery.

“There she is. Back with the insults. See? I prefer that to someone pretendin’ everyfing I say or do is impressive. I’m a realist, love I got no time for it.” He informs with a sweep of his arm. “In fact, I’d bet you’re a better fuck than her. Real woman like you, eh?”

“Oh fuck off Butch.” She rolls her eyes and takes another drink, suppressing an honest blush. “Can’t believe I was worried you wouldn’t come back. Would’ve been a BLESSING.” She taunts back.

“THERE IT IS! You were worried bout me.” He accuses her with a pointed finger. “That’s why ya bein’ such a mouthy cunt.”

“And what’s your excuse?” She retorts.

“Missed you too, love.” He winks.

“I said I was worried about you. Not that I missed you. Don’t mince words.” She points back.

“I was worried bout you as well.” He observes as she begins to move away and pass him towards the bed.

“Why? I’ve been where I was supposed to be.”

“Because I know what week it is.” He says it with his back turned as to not make her feel more vulnerable about it being said out loud.

She feels a lump in her throat as she meets his eyes after a heavy beat, and sees no playfulness there.

“I know the anniversaries are hard. They were for me before...I knew the truth.” He pauses. “But I saw ya liftin the little bath things and that and thought maybe she’s moving on, ya know? Knocking the dust off for someone, yeah? I didn’t feel bad takin’ my sweet time getting back here but now that I see you were in fact just in the dark drinkin’ like a fish instead of gettin’ fucked, my human side is admittedly almost sorry for it. Almost.”

“I’m fine.”

“A sure sign one is in fact not.” When she doesn’t answer he knows he’s found the source of her bad mood. But he’d never taken it personally. “How longs it been?”

“Since when do you give a shit?”

“Since you do.” He gives a quick answer back as she turns and faces him.

“Four years.” She finally answers after staring him down to figure out his motives. Her lack of sobriety makes her patience thin.

“Been a while, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Feels longer since I’ve been stuck with you.”

“Ya know, words hurt.” He puts his hand to his bare chest, partially unbuttoned in the common and jarring Hawaiian print. She lets out a snort of laughter and he knows he’s breaking through.

“Nothing hurts you, Butcher.” She says it like a fact and he’s almost proud of it for a moment until he can see she’s jealous of it.

“'Ats not true, innit?”

“Apart from the usual bullets, knives and brass knuckles that is.”

“Although that’s very sweet of ya love, and I’ll be sure to remind you of the compliment once you’re sober so you can regret it, still not true. Just a man, yeah?” He offers with shrugged shoulders.

“Why are you…? What are you doing?” She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously.

“I’m tryin' to be fuckin' proper supportive, right ?” He says louder, his patience wearing down with her already.

“Supportive?” She groans with heavy sarcasm and a raised brow. Her defensiveness was transparent.

“I know what it’s like. I know it’s hard. And admittedly not much gets to ya. I see a lot of old me in you and I know when ya hidin’ shit and as much of a cunt as you can be, it's not a great feelin' to see ya like this.”

She feels a bit exposed suddenly. Kindness in this form wasn’t something she was accustomed to. And coming from someone so close to her now, that she (as much as she hated to admit it) cared about, made her hard shell crack. It was only for a moment but that’s all it took for Billy to see. She quickly deflects. “What are you gonna do? Give me a hug and tuck me in?” Her tone was harsh and he knew it well. Born from pain and a lack of healthy outlet for it, they were one and the same. “Don’t be fucking stupid Butch.” She shakes her head.

“That what ya want? A fuckin' cuddle?” His tone came out more patronizing than he meant but he wasn’t any good at this either. He was just trying to be a good friend and he wasn’t very practiced in it. He raises and it surprises her. “I can give ya a hug, love. If that’s what it takes.” He holds his arms out and his voice tells of the great sacrifice he’s making for her. "I can fuckin' cuddle like any other cunt on this planet-"

“I find that hard to believe.” She rolls her eyes.

“C’mere.”

“No, I don’t want a hug for Christ’s sake.” She puts her hands to his chest.

“Your drunken little brain blurted out what it really wanted first. Psychology 101 shit.” He states as she slaps away at his hands.

“I’m not that drunk. Besides you probably stink of stress sweat and cheap cologne.” She continues to protest but he was stronger, she was drunk and with Billy, it was easier to let him have his way and move on sometimes.

“Come now, love shut ya trap and give in.”

She lets out a sigh and tries to relax her shoulders. Her arms at her sides as she began to feel the warmth pass from his body to hers. With each breath, she grew warmer, more at ease. She didn’t care for it. Not being tense was something she felt uncomfortable with at this juncture.

They stand in silence, not something they were accustomed to. The steady stream of bickering usually followed them everywhere. He had been so adamant about her needing this that the act of wrapping his arms around another person with no intent on killing them was feeling very foreign in the silence. “How longs it been?” Is what comes of his wheels turning about his own lack of non-violent physical contact. Who was he really asking?

“I just told you like a minute ago,” she laments in frustration, her forehead landing against his chest.

“No, not that.” His voice wasn’t as forced as usual, she could feel it rumble in his chest before it hit her ears. “Since you did something like this? Been a long fuckin' time for me.”

“Don’t accidentally snap my neck out of habit please.” She mutters against him and he lets out a huff of a laugh.

“You joke but…”

“It’s been since…” she answers after a brief pause. “Since the funeral.”

“Those don’t count. Not sympathy hugs. Not that “so sorry for your loss” horse shit.”

She lets out a exhalation and she pushes back past that marker in her mind. “Since that morning.”

“Yeah.” Is all he says but she knows he means, me too.

The feelings hit her, the existence outside of her comfort zone and the alcohol weakening the dam in her mind. He feels it happen under his arms, the exhale, the physical act of her guard falling. She moans a sound of frustration, one he’s familiar with himself. “You had to make me think about it.” Her voice is calm and even.

“Can’t let it weaken you like it does.” It was more a suggestion than an order but she snorts into his shirt.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“Don’t make me weak.” He asserts with a self-assured tone. “Just angry.”

“I prefer distractions to dealing with it. I’ve got enough rage.” She sounds sad and he moves his arm that serve as a means to trap her to her back and gives it a pat.

“Feels easier dunnit?” He nods slowly. “Anger’s easier to use than sadness.”

“That might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I am smart. You just don’t listen, mate.”

“And you do? What about this hug? I said I didn’t want it.”

“And we’ve had a nice little moment ‘aven’t we?”

“Shut up, you’ll ruin it” She chuckles and moves her arms around him to his surprise. “You know I hate it when you’re right but...I think it has been too long. Other wise I wouldn’t be enjoying this. AND before you give me some smart ass reply, if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.”

“I was just gonna agree.”

“You know it’s bad when something like this feels good.” She grins again and he’s relieved to see the sadness has passed. “Been too long for... a lot of things.” She raises her brows as she lifts her head. Her face only gave away frustration with its slight frown and unmet eyes.

“What’s at?”

“If I don’t get that rage out... I get sad.”

“Didn’t you just take out a man?”

“Yeah but... not like that. That’s…” She shrugs. “Feels like work almost ya know?” She lets her hands slowly move away and he does the same out of courtesy. She stays close but doesn’t touch him as she runs her hand through her hair and exhales noisily. “I mean FUN.”

“What’s that ?” He asks with a straight face and he sees a genuine laugh light up her face.

With a grin and a nod, she responds, her hand still fluffing her hair. “Seems like I forgot how to have it somewhere along the way. Or rather just not many... opportunities for it I guess.”

“What’s fun then? We got a clear schedule, weapons and anonymity. Surely that can do somethin' for ya.” He offers.

“Don’t need any of that for what I was thinking. Old vices to let the rage out is what my mind goes back to. But all that left with…” her nose wrinkles as she makes a gesture to show her hands were empty. “Him.” Her face falls back into frustration.

“What is it or are ya gonna keep talkin' round it?”

She purses her lips and meets his eyes. “I’m not talking around it.”

“Yeah ya are. Ya never vague bout anything.”

“You have a very slappable face, has anyone ever told you that?”

“They usually don’t. They just do it. Much like you should right now.”

She chuckles again and shakes her head. “Why are you… being your version of caring?”

“Why are you changin' the subject?”

“Because it’s weird and suspicious.”

“Because if your heads in the right place this works better, yeah? If I can get you to decompress, then it’s less of your bitchin' I gotta worry 'bout. Ya less likely to fuck up and generally it might be possible that you’d be a slightly lessened pain in the arse.”

“That… well, that actually makes sense.”

“I talk it all the time love ya just gotta shut up long enough to listen.”

“Charming.” She rolls her eyes and he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Just honest. Unlike you.”

She studied him for a moment. A drawn-out silence he uses to do the same as they push back and forth with their stare.

“Sex.” She finally answers with the same hard look on her face.

For only a second he looks confused before he realizes she’s finally given him what he’d been searching for. “A fuck ain’t nothin love, go ask anyone with a prick out there and you can get it.”

“Therein lies the problem. I don’t work like that. I can’t let anyone in to even have a normal conversation, I certainly can’t fuck someone I don’t know, don’t trust. No time for that shit anymore. So I just… went without it.”

“No wonder you act like such an uptight cunt.”

“What’s your excuse?” She pushes back.

“Could say the same.” His answer surprises her and he sees it as it moves across her face. “Wasn’t gonna with me wife gone, then after all that ended I just never got back out there now did I? Whose got the fuckin time?”

“You are making entirely too much sense tonight.” She gives him an actual smile for the information he’d given freely.

“What about those app things? They have those just for fuckin' now right?”

“And have my picture and info up to be tracked? No thank you. That’s just asking to be killed.”

“Probably right.”

“Mark down the day you agreed with me on something.”

“I’m being very agreeable. In fact, we have the same understanding of this particular issue, we do.”

“Ever since I met you we’ve shared a lot of the same problems.”

“And we’ve solved them all innit we? Together, yeah?”

“Yeah… we have.” Her voice drags from a quiet agreement into a lingering silent stare.

“What the fuck is that look?” He demands as he sees her look him up and down in judgment.

“I-“ She begins and then shuts her mouth and shakes her head.

“Well, ya can’t do that and not finish your sentence. Rude, that is.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, and wouldn’t to anyone else. We do work well together.”

“Fuckin'... and?”

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough to actually say it out loud. Only think it.” She replies with an amused look on her face. ”That in itself is dumb enough.”

“Now ya just teasin’.”

“I couldn’t help but apply us working well together to the current problem.”

His chin pushes back and he narrows his eyes at her. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“That there.” She points his way. “Shows me you know exactly what I’m on about.” She sass’s back. “And that reaction is why I didn’t share.”

“What reaction? I’m being perfectly normal.”

“Normal doesn’t exist for you and I.” She purses her lips. “And that whole, suspicious look you get with your beady little eyes.”

“Not the way I’d be talkin' to someone I wanted to fuck.” He gives a wry smile.

“I didn’t say I wanted to.” she clarifies. “I only said I couldn’t help but see a temporary solution available to us for a mutual problem.” She relaxes her body language and steps further away. “Besides, probably wouldn’t be worth my time anyway.”

“Now wait just a fuckin minute.” She almost laughs out loud at how easy it was to pull the reaction from him. “I could shag the skin right off ya bones if I wanted to. Be the best you’d ever had, yeah?” He says defensively with a pointed finger her way.

Half turned towards him she smirks. “Butcher, baby… those are some big words to live up to.”

“And when have you known me to oversell?”

“Only constantly.” the same lazy smirk remains as she holds the upper hand between them again.

“Fuck off.” He mutters quickly and swats the statement away with his hand. “You really suggestion this or are ya havin' a wank?”

“I wasn’t sure at first but now you’ve gone and promised to be the best fuck I’ve ever had and I’d be lying if I said your claims weren’t intriguing.” she explains with a sarcastic lilt to hide the truth behind it.

“I know what I’m good at.” He offers up with a charming delivery of a casual shrug.

“But it’s been so long…”

“Not something ya forget how to do, love.”

“That’s… yeah, I suppose you’re right.” They measure each other up wordlessly, taking in the view of the other through a new lens. “Would you want to?” Her face gives away her hesitation, and he’s honestly a bit sad for her that she’d think he would find her unattractive enough to not be interested.

“I had purposely tried to not think about such things, yeah? But I mean… ya ain’t bad a ‘tall love.” He pauses to watch a slow nod of acceptance from her. “I’d ask if you would but clearly…” he raises his brows and openly gestures with his hands and she rolls her eyes. “Your idea now. Don’t act like that now that it’s on the table.”

“I’d prefer the bed.” She offers a more friendly smile.

“Cheeky bugger.” He chuckles. “More of an old school approach for you eh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She shakes her head. “Another reason I can't do it with just any rando off the street.”

“What are you trying to get me into? I don’t wanna end up hogtied in a dress with something up me arse.”

She grins at his response in a light-hearted way. “None of that. Well... you wouldn’t be the one getting tied up anyway.”

“Ah.” He nods I’m understanding. “That's why you need the trust innit?”

“Have to know I won’t be killed for starters, and two I need because there’s always a line, need a safe word and someone that’ll listen.”

“How we talkin' here love?”

“Like you haven’t wanted to slap me around for years now” She jokes.

“Not in particular no.”

His answer surprises her and she studies him for a moment. “It’s been so long are you sure you want it to be with me?”

“If not you… who? Like you so eloquently said... trust 'n that.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” She rubs her face.

“Inevitable yeah? Two good lookin' people, so much time alone, so much stress with work. Plenty of pornos made about this very situation.” He sees her crack a smile. “Besides after when ya want it again I can use it as a bartering chip.”

“If there is a next time.” She corrects. “Not exactly selling me on this ya know.”

“What ya want? Roses? Box 'a sweets? Never been one for poetry, love.”

“It’s hard to remember how to… begin.”

“So you really wanna do this? Have ya a dirty little secret?” He moves closer and the playfulness is clear on his face. She wasn’t sure if it was genuine enthusiasm or there for her sake.

“Ugh. Don’t make me say it.” She grunts.

“I am a modern man and I ain’t one for sending out rapey vibes so I’m afraid ya gotta love.”

She takes a deep breath and sits down her glass. “Alright. Okay. Yes. I consent.” She states with open arms that plop down at her sides.

“Wunnit so hard, yeah?”

“Hopefully not as hard as you’ll be.”

He lets out a deep laugh. “Now there’s a good girl.”

The words hit her just right, she tries to fight that learned response of pushing him away when he got too close. He tests the waters, looking her over with a clear intent, getting his head in the right space as she did the same. She didn’t meet his face but looked him over in his half unbuttoned shirt and jeans. She’d seen him practically naked, patched him up and knew he was a strong lean machine underneath the goofy tourist shirt. The same for him could be said about her, years of post-attack care and close living quarters on the road left little to the imagination.

He sees her gulp, but doesn’t bear it. Her nerves were given away by the bob of the lump in her throat.

“It seems weird to start by kissing you but... that seems to make the most sense.”

“Ya tense as a virgin, love.” He reaches out and rubs her exposed arms to initiate a connection and make her more comfortable.

“It’ll pass.” She tells convincingly.

“What’ll it take to make ya melt for me?”

She feels his gravely voice close and shuts her eyes with a deep breath. Okay, she could do this. “Make it worth my time Butcher.” She finally meets his eyes, hers darker now and peering up at him. “I don’t want to have to think. I just wanna feel. I know I can be dominant in a fight but I don’t wanna be with sex. I’ll say...shoelace if you’re too rough. But don’t be afraid to... use your strength.”

“Noted, love.” He gives a nod and before she can flutter lashes in response to her quickening heartbeat as he gets his hand around her throat. She feels that long missed warmth flood her body. There was no fight response, no fear for the squeeze on her delicate throat, only a soft exhale as she closed her eyes that made him feel the same sort of feeling for her in his stomach. “From the way you just turned into a puddle for me I’ll take it I’m on the right track.”

“Mmm Hmm.” She nods. “Give it to me rough and dirty, Butch. Use all that anger I’ve seen first hand on me. You know I can take it.”

He moves fast and pushes her against a wall with a generic picture frame thumping force. “Ya gonna, pet.”

She hums and swallows, a little moan escaping her as he looms over her and she feels small in his shadow. He was a powerful man and she needed to have hers taken away for the night.

He lingers over her skin in warm lines of breath that escape his broad nose. “You know… you are a lovely little bird.” His fingertips trace across her skin in light, teasing lines up her arms and across her chest. Keeping his hand at her throat as a reminder to be still and let him take the lead, he loses his grip as he becomes occupied by watching her body react to him. He gives a flick to her nipples and wets his lips. “Hard already?” A rhetorical question comes out with a patronizing tone that for the first time she didn’t mind.

She watches his face as his eyes focus on the way her tits bounce with every pinch of her nipples he pulls and releases through her shirt. She sees the focus and the want reflected in them and welcomes the warm feeling being wanted gave her. “Let me get a look at these love.” He speaks softly, calloused fingers pulling her top down, the weight of her chest holding the neckline in place as he traced the rise and fall, the blooming of goosebumps on her skin that spread as he freed her to the air. There weren’t so many words as he got to take her in for purely pleasure for the first time. A deep hum from his throat she felt rumble down her torso as he played and pinched passed through them both. She feels her muscles tense as the touch sends pleasure straight down to her center with each twist. As if he were running an inner monologue he didn’t want to share, he grunts out “Rough, eh?” And proceeds to send the first jolts of pain and pleasure through her with a hard and firm twist. He sees her knees wobble as she lets out the first moan for him. It was almost as if he’d willed himself to forget about the female form and all the arousal that came from touching all the softness the right way. He’d not touched a woman without intent to harm in so long. But that was the last thing he wanted to do to her.

For as much as they fought and bickered, he did enjoy her company. Which is more than he could say for most anyone else. She was a driven and demanding woman with work, and that butted heads with his hard and fast style more often than not. But when the jobs were over and they had those precious few hours of freedom before they traveled back to headquarters, she was downright lovely when the conditions were right. Because of the balance they had, the trust and honesty, he’d shut off any piece of his lizard brain that would want to fuck her, lest he not be razor-sharp or ruin what they had by acting like a boy. But now he had her whimpering as he manipulated her dark rosy nipples, watching her thighs rub together and feeling a rush he hadn’t in years.

Taking him from his inner reflection, the quick sharp slaps to the sensitive peaks he gave her had her biting her lips. She finally makes a demand. “Suck on my tits Billy.” A strung-out voice he’d never heard before escapes and it’s like the femininity of it grabbed him by the balls as he’s commanded to obey and takes the weight of her into his mouth with a content groan. The use of his name and not her given nickname of Butch softens him, it was rare he heard his name said so softly. “Yeah, like that.” She heavily sighs, head knocking back against the wall. She could feel the heat spreading from every erogenous zone of her body, relaxing her muscles except those between her thighs that had started throbbing to the rising rate of her heartbeat.

He tried to remember the last time a woman praised him in such a way and going all the way to his marriage, he could not. He knew her to run hot in temper and her skin reflected the same. The fullness of her chest rising and falling as he gave in to shut his eyes and latch onto the bud that gave away how much she needed what he was giving her. Listening to her breathy sighs and feeling the thud of her heart against her sternum, he forgets himself for a moment. Releasing her neck and placing two calloused hands on her ribs to hold her close as his mouth nursed at her skin. With licks and pants she watches him hold her chest together and indulge fully. Licking her lips, she feels heat in her chest grow, the feeling of being so clearly wanted. Lips that drag across her skin as the kisses rose higher and higher to find her neck, her hands leaving her side to touch his shoulders lightly as if she’d find he wasn’t really there and this was all a sex-deprived fantasy she’d snap out of at any moment.

She moans as she feels his teeth pressing into the tight muscles of her neck.

“Like that, love?” His tone a clear tease and call back to her response earlier.

“Mmmph, Billy…” She exhales as his mouth lingers by her ear to send a spread of goosebumps down her skin from the tickle of breath on her rarely touched skin. She rolls her head towards him, a nuzzle of cheek to cheek, her hand finding its way to his hair, finding it softer than she thought it would be between her fingers.

“Sayin me name and I’m not even inside ya yet.” He teases with a breathy laugh she feels roll down her spine. It was distinct and masculine, the voice of someone she trusted and it made the last of her resolve melt away. “Bet you’re soaked already innit ya?” He accuses her, a scold she closes her eyes at hearing the tone of. Keeping her close with a strong hand to her back, the other trails between her breasts and down to the thin cover of fabric over her plush mound.

He noted the peaks and valleys on her body, a solid core with the swell of a soft belly before reaching a cotton covered nest of dark hair. His teasing proves valid as his fingertips are met with the warm patch of wetness as they travel lower between her legs. “Fuckin 'ell you are needin' it aren’t ya?” He remarks almost to himself as he sees the slickness on his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I asked you Butch.” She sass's back as he looks up to find her watching his face.

“Don’t ruin it with that smart mouth now eh?” He scolds with a tilt of his head as he pushes his fingers covered in her into her mouth.

He’s met with a muffled “Mmph.” Of surprise before acceptance of the same sound as two of his fingers press against her tongue.

“I’d love to do this when you get to actin' like a mouthy cunt on me.” A darker tone to his words now, falling back into a role, indulging his rougher side to let some of the evil out, just as she was in her way. “Just shove something in ya mouth and shake you about yeah?” He holds her jaw and gives it a good shake with a tight grip. Her eyes flutter and roll, letting the orders and insults break her down and take away the tension she held constantly in her muscles. “Or should I just…?” He begins with his hand moving to her throat once more and pressing her into the wall with a squeeze. He feels her swallow against his palm, a slight effort behind her inhale.

He doesn’t meet her eyes, finding it easier to do what she asked that way. If he looked into them he would see her needful and trusting and that wasn’t something he was fully prepared for and he knew it. No one needed Billy Butcher. Most didn’t even want him and one of the few humans to ever connect with him and even be fond of him in a genuine way looking at him like that wasn’t something he could face. He felt a bit of a coward for it, but tonight wasn’t the night to deal with such things. Tonight was about losing tension, not adding more to their relationship.

He moves quickly to place a firm slap to her wet center, a snap of skin and wet echoing across the room.

“Fuck.” She almost whines in a heavy exhale. A slumping against his other hand on her neck that let him know he could still push.

“She does like it a little rough, eh?” Chuckles at her slack face, lips pressing against each other. In quick succession, he lands his hand harshly to her nipples, then down to her center, a slap to her hips and thighs that leave her pink in his wake. He stops after the pattern elicits a noise of discomfort from her, but no sign of her safe word was on her lips.

“S’good.” She mumbles and nods, eyes that looked tired glancing his way for a moment to let him know he was still well within the rules. He was slowly getting tougher and the sting of skin sent the thrills through her she’d long missed. But she was giving him a rush of his own he hadn’t realized he’d missed so badly.

With a nod of acknowledgement, he moves on, ready to push this forward as the ache of his own cock pushing against his pants was something that needed attending to. He steps back, a posture that said more than his words could about their roles for tonight.

He leaves her stood slouched against the wall, eyes hooded and following his hands as they moved to the buttons on his shirt.

“Take it off.” Is his command, but she knew what he meant. She liked the dark stare, the way his lean body didn’t waver as he toed off his half tied boots. His hand grazes over the bulge in his black jeans before his hands move to unbuckle the heavy hardware of his belt while she strips her top over her head and throws her panties onto her bed unceremoniously.

With a stalking and wolfish demeanor, he hovered over her prickled skin, everything tightened and hard to the cool air as he stands in an undone shirt and pants. “Look at you, love.” Raspy praise comes from barely moving lips as his hands brush her hair behind her shoulders. She almost flinches as the movements with an unknown destination come near her face. They were both in the right headspace now. “Why would I go to that little tart at the club when I could come back and have some of ‘is yeah?”

He means it, she’s surprised to find. His voice was frank and his hands pinched and picked at her nipples and curves. She doesn’t reply, eyes averted as his rake over her naked body.

“Gonna give this a proper seeing to, eh?” He groans as he stretches his neck, his palms back on her bare skin, warming her in more places than they touched. He pulled her to his bare chest roughly, hands on her ass and squeezing tight before a few solid spanks were given much to her delight. “You want fucked hard, pet? Or is the handlin' ya like in such a way?”

The affectionate name doesn’t dampen the mood between them. “Both.” She whispers out, hands to his chest and feeling the curl of chest hair under her fingers. It reminds her of her husband for just a moment, laying next to him and playing with it before she fell asleep. Billy wasn’t exactly a substitute for him but, perhaps he would prove a worthy distraction in the least. A warm body to ease the loneliness, an ear to listen. She didn’t need much.

“Ask and you shall receive.” a statement that answers more than he knew was announced loudly as he gives her one last set of slaps before grabbing her arms and spinning her around to face the bed. With one hand holding her wrists to the bend of her back, the other runs a single finger down her spine to make her shudder before giving a hard spank to her bare ass. Her knees buckled slightly, a sharp gasp then a mewl asked him for more.

He bent her over, hands now on the bed per his orders in the form of grunts and slaps. He goes in rounds, breaking her down slowly with slaps to her ass, thighs and pussy lips. Each time getting more red and swollen than the last. He rubs the spots he hits, a quick soothe after the harshness. He feeds off her sounds, and all moans and gasps of pleasure to match with his deep and dominating growls and patronizing take as she flinches.

He knows she’s had enough when he sees the drip of wetness from her lips between her legs. He swipes it before it’s gone with his fingers in the heat of her to pinch her clit and rub to ready her as she buckled towards the bed with a submissive moan. “Soaked little cunny, innit?” He coos her way before pushing two fingers inside her.

The first push of pure pleasure was over her, eyes rolling back and tongue out over her bottom lip as she gave over to it. His movements were confident, always certain and steady against her. She’d needed that control taken and he was proving to be worthy of the task. With curling and pounding fingers he works her until she’s close, drenched in her and feeling her tighten he leaves her exposed and bent over while he strokes himself to the sight of her. A soft and pink fluffy cunt between two strong thighs and an arse that he was champing at the bit to watch bounce against him. One he’d smacked before but only to piss her off, and never for the purpose of what he had planned for her.

A firm grip on himself he pumped, planning for what he was going to give her, which was years worth of pent up aggression. He was challenged to hurt her, and even if that wasn’t in his nature towards women and sex he was not one to back down from a challenge. He was set in his mind to leave her with no choice but to admit he’d fucked her good and proper. And deny that she wanted to do it again, a sure sign she did as she wouldn’t be thinking about it already.

Tapping himself on her lower back, grabbing her hips and holding her where he wanted her, knees knocked up on the bed, he groans and watches her move herself towards him, seeking him out.

“Hungry little cunt, eh?”

“Billy just... fuck me... please.” She whines, a needful grunt as she rubbed her slit against him.

“That’s a good girl.” He softly praises as he angles himself and notches inside her, an immediate release of wordless noise from them both. “Fuckin' 'ell.” He mutters before feeling the resistance around him as he buried himself inside her. His hands held fast to her hips as he settled inside her, savoring it for a moment.

A breathy. “Yes.” Escapes her as her head drops down to the bed.

He keeps up with her neediness for it as he begins a solid rhythm, pacing himself to adjust to her tightness that only seemed to squeeze him harder with every meeting of their hips. She pushed back as he slapped her ass. Pink welts that bounced on his strong hips, both picking up on the pace between them easily, as they had always done in fighting, it seemed to translate well with fucking.

There were no words as she gripped the sheets, pushed back with all she had, that satisfying slap of balls to her clit, the hollow smack of skin to skin as they worked to a feverish pace. She could feel more growing in her, him filling her to satisfy that stretch she needed from him. With a snarl, beads of sweat falling down his forehead he pushes forward, grabbing a handful of her hair to pound her harder, give her what they both needed now. She cries out, every breath forces out from the hips as her back arches beautiful back for him.

“Fuck yes.” She cries in bursts that match his pace. Her head bobbed and her tits bounced and knocked together adding to the slaps and claps that filled the otherwise quiet room.

A hard slap to her ass again makes a deeper and more sultry sound arise from her. Billy knew it, a grown woman now in her final throws, enjoying herself and letting go. He doesn’t let the moment pass, giving her all he’s got left in power. He yanks her arms back and leaves her helpless as he pulls them back and lets her chest bow out and head hang back as he rides her.

A happy squeal escapes, hums and laughs that were different than any he’d heard from her. “That’s fucking right Billy, give it to me. Harder.” A playful call demands of him.

He grabs her by the throat, one hand to her chest, pulling her against him as his nails sink into the meat of her. She moans and mewls, closed eyes and snarling smile as he tightens his grip around her neck, hips still pounding away and gaining speed to finish the job. Another spank, another slap, and then to her dripping cunt he continues. At first he continues the pain, then a rapid back and forth over her swollen clit that makes her hips buck and her lips plead for more.

A choked out “Don’t stop.” Leaves her as he feels her stomach tensing and her breathing deepen. He’s almost tempted to, to be cruel one last time but the feel of her against him, the face full of vanilla-scented hair and his mouth at her ear, he chooses the much more merciful route as he knew he didn’t want to part from her.

“Come on this cock you fuckin slag.” He growls and she smiles in response. He gives a bite to her ear and sucks at her neck as little chants of yes make it to his ears. “I fuckin' feel ya love, be a good girl for me and cum and I’m gonna fill you up. Fuck you’re gonna be feelin' me inside you for days.”

Another deep and content moan gets past his white-knuckled hand on her throat as she holds fast to his arm, then reaches back to grab a handful of hair. A submissive whimper, both to him and to the needs of her body, riding that cusp and waiting to fall, they meet eyes. Something they’d been avoiding but now they were locked, both matched in their faces in ecstasy. She feels it, that pull for more, she needed something to finish.

He sees her lips quiver, her eyes big and batting and he answers her wordless plea and kisses her. It’s not a first kiss either had had before. It was teeth and tongue and gripping lips that would suddenly part to gasp. It was rough and desperate just as their lives were.

They both feel it, it was a final straw, a touch of tenderness and intimacy masked in angry brows and crude words in the form of a kiss that pushed them over. Being the gentleman he was, or could be, he makes sure she finished first. Pounding her through the waves she rode, the hips stuttering, the cum running down his balls and her thighs from a thorough beating of her insides. He knocks her to the bed to breathe, giving that lovely little arse of hers a final whipping and clenching his hands down to the bones of her hips he follows her to the bed, fucking into her flat on her stomach.

The new angle left her squirming, hitting deep inside her as she let her whole body feel how good it felt to have his weight on her. She sees his hands fist the sheets next to her head. Masculine grunts as he empties out and they’re left in the aftermath.

With a less harsh smack on her ass, more of a well done than a dominating feel to it he collapses next to her. The silence falls in the room as their breathing slows. This was the part he had been avoiding. The consequences of their actions. Doing something bad was never lackluster, it was the moments after when you were faced with what you’d done that weren’t fun to deal with.

But as she always did, she takes a situation and makes the best of it. Finally moving with a groan, she slowly moves to back off the bed and stretches, looking at the damage done to her backside. He hears a laugh and then a tensionless sigh. “You know I hate to admit when you’re right.” She grins as she rolls to his side to face her. “But that was a… very job well done, mate.” She laughs and turns to walk with loose hips to the bathroom.

“Maybe you’ll listen to me more then, eh?” He smiles and watches her disappear behind the cheap wooden door.

“Wouldn’t count on it.” He hears as he gives a charming smile in her direction she doesn’t see. He pulls the blankets back, a quick strip of the clothes left around his ankles and a swipe over his junk to ease the sticky feeling growing the AC air of the room.

He settles in, the light switching off and a still naked woman approaching him. He was enjoying the confidence and ease she held herself with now. Hands running through her hair as she stood and looked between the two beds. “So…” She says with a nod.

“Yeah?”

“Do we share a bed now?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

“Been a night of a lot of firsts. Don’t have to stop there. I still haven’t proved myself to be a cuddler.”

“True.” She smiles and moves to slide into bed with him.

“If ya think you can keep your hands off me you can sleep in here. But if ya gonna be waking me up and demanding my cock, ya know I need my beauty rest, love.”

“Shut up Butch.” She laughs as presses her back against him. “You wish.” She shakes her head and settles. “No amount of sleep's gonna help you.”

“Good to see not even good cock can keep ya from bein' a cunt.”

“It’s just you. You’re lucky that way.” She grins as she accepts the arm around her waist and the warmth of his breath in her hair.

“Yeah… ‘Spose I am a lucky bastard that way.” He groans after a good stretch. Now all that was left was to prove his cuddling capabilities, and with her hand around his wrist, as it settles up to her breasts, wiggling hips resting directly against his, they were both well on their way to finding out the outcome of the second challenge of the night.

@jaegeeeeer @negansdirtygirl22

#The Boys #the boys fanfiction #Billy Butcher #Billy Butcher fanfiction #Karl urban #The Boys fan fic #The Boys smut #The Boys fic #The BOys fan fiction #Billy Butcher x you #Billy Butcher x reader #Billy Butcher x ofc #billy butcher x oc #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher imagines #billy butcher smut

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ashen-vulture · 4 years ago

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Considering some Creatures

I am a Game Master who happens to be an artist and has paleontology/archaeology as a lifelong obsession. I love drawing monsters for my games, I have a lot of drawings of final bosses and such. And dragons. And there will be dragons in this, too.

During this quarantine mess I decided to mess around with building a new setting that would heavily feature all sorts of megafauna and strange animals that are close to recognizable. To really get a scale for the world, and how small the people in it regularly feel, as well as to show my players some of the more prominent animals, I started working up creature lineups.

And I really liked how they were looking. Every creature is based in something familiar. I’m sure the mammoth is recognizable, though I decided to give mammoths in this setting an exaggerated fatty hump that keep them hardy in times of famine or during migrations when they won’t find as much food.

The small striped Five Horned one is based ever so loosely on Hoplitomeryx. They use their horns for goring attackers and males will wrestle one another by locking horns together and trying to throw each other around until one tires out. The small horns just forward of the eye acts as a guard to keep eyes from getting poked out, and they have a thick neck and sturdy shoulders that aids them in their duels and charges.

The one in the middle wasn’t expressly based on one creature, but rather a combination of giraffes, moose, and extinct camelids, with big padded feet for walking through snow, a long stride allowing them to cover a lot of ground, a huge rubbery nose for warming up air as it enters the body and also acting as an opposable digit, and a long prehensile tongue for grabbing at vegetation.

And I mean from there, it kinda

Just kept going. Here are some birds from the setting. Some folks will probably recognize the base creature for some of these: the Terror Bird (middle, striped), Argentavis (upper left, vulture), and Pelagornis (right). The small birds aren’t exactly “based” on anything specific, more just filling out the world. Other Big Borb is based on Gastornis and it’s amazing crushing bite, the waterfowl directly next to Example Man (that’s my name for all of my comparison silhouettes) is a giant swan that lives by rivers and sea and spends most of its time walking, wading, or swimming, only really flying to cover large distances to other foraging grounds. It is a very aggressive bird, violence is guaranteed.

The last small one, the only wingless one, is called a Bush Bird. Based partially on revelations about the dodo bird: previously thought to be helpless, stupid ground birds that were fat and slow-moving, it’s likely that this idea came from caged specimens who didn’t have room to roam and were fed lots of cheap food. Though the little red-faced wingless bird might look small and helpless especially in this lineup, its feathers shield it from brambles, their primary nesting space, and they’re light on their feet, able to dash across snow, make quick turns, and recover from tumbles immediately and keep running.

Giant sloth! What megafauna-drenched lineup would this be if I didn’t include a sloth. And for this one I combined traits from several extinct sloth to make a rugged survivalist. They knuckle-walk most everywhere, but they’re also still adept climbers- of cliffs. They will climb the young, steep mountains during certain seasons to eat the seasonal fruit that is dropping that only they, birds, and humans can reach. They will also climb the cliffy coasts, descend down into the ocean to graze on sea plants, pulling their way along with their claws. While not an aquatic mammal it is a strong enough swimmer to get to shore if it loses its grip. Masters of getting where it’s hard to get to eat the things that are hard to eat.

The Apex predators of Sea and Land, known as the Sea Demon and the Huntfather. The Sea Demon is a voracious whale that hunts the known waters, the biggest threat in the sea. They’re not gentle giants, if it is large enough to be worth eating and its made of meat they’re not picky. The Huntfather is the apex predator of the land, it lays in ambush, often hunting in pairs. They utilize stealth and patience to ambush prey, using their bone-crushing jaws to bite for the legs and keep them from running away. I became interested in the idea of a creature that lives in a taiga/plains mix, and how white vertical stripes might help them blend into their environments.

Me: “Hey, what would happen if we took a komodo dragon, Biggified it to like megalania-size, and then gave it big old frill?”

This is called the Beach Tyrant. The species lives along beaches in loosely-associated colonies of other beach tyrants. It has a fluked tail for swimming, a stellar sense of smell, and the same noxious bite monitor lizards are well known for. They use their frills to catch heat from the sun and scare away creatures too big for them to handle (such as mammoths). They spend their time patroling up and down beaches hunting and scavenging.

They got the name Beach Tyrant because they tend to hoard large carcasses. In this setting humans do not have the means to hunt whales, so whale blubber or other parts are rare. Beach Tyrants will not leave a carcass until it is completely clean. They’ll sleep on top of and around it, mark the area, and refuse to relinquish until there is no carcass left.

Okay Who’s Ready For Dragons

So I want to design a RPG setting that will be fun for my players to engage with, and I don’t want it to be a 1:1 representation of our world. And I knew there had to be dragons, and I knew I wanted them to be different from every other dragon I had designed up to this point.

So, where do we get dragons? Well, we have to go back a little bit further than the mammoth for that.

The question I started with was- what if in this world’s version of the mass extinction event, a tiny pterasaur species managed to eek its way past the edge of oblivion and land in the new era? I looked at a combination of some of the largest and smallest pterasaurs. Their wing shape, their walking stance, their proportions, and worked them together with the idea of a showy, and highly social dragon.

So there are a few different “Types“ of dragons the humans of the world recognize: Black, Brown, and Colorful. In reality what they’re seeing are Adolescents, Females, and Males.

Male dragons are twice the height of their female counter parts and will defend nesting mountains in coalitions of 2-5 from invading predators and other males looking to dethrone them. Their crest is both display and a resonance chamber, allowing them to make loud honks, howls, and roars.

Females are smaller and duller in color, with smaller crests that functions similarly to the males. Females make up the bulk of the flock, a healthy dragon roost could have 20-60 of them, and they hunt in packs. They’ll lay down trails of fire to cause herds to split and scatter. They’ll even go into swarms or frenzies where the entire flock will mobilize for a hunt, especially when the youngsters are going out on their very first pack hunt.

The fire they spit is more a gooey vomit of flamable bile followed by an ignition chemical that causes the noxious mucus to catch a persistent fire. They use fire to box in or mark their intended prey, or to drive small prey out of thickets and grass cover where they can be picked off individually.

It is believed in this setting that the sun and the moon are moved across the sky by a giant blue dragon and a giant black dragon. The sun is an enormous pile of gold, and the moon is an enormous pile of silver. Legends tell of people climbing mountains to try to steal gold and silver from the sky, only to become lost wandering forever amongst the silver stars.

That’s it for now, this monstrosity is long enough.

#art #my art #sketches

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years ago

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lefty x puppet? stale, overdone, not furry enough. Lefty x henry? original, unthought of, somehow more furry, henry suffering in da belly of da bear.

(WHO ARE YOU!? HOW DO YOU KNOW?! HOW DO YOU KNOW MY SECRET LORE. You write like a mutual I know does, BUT I DON’T KNOW IF I’M RIGHT AND NOT BEING RIGHT IS A HORRIBLE CONCEPT BECAUSE IT MEANS THERE’S MORE THAN ONE PERSON OUT HERE CRACK-SHIP-SHAMING ME. Also, sorry for the non-hell (but very much cursed-as-hell) content, but my computer is slowly dying and won’t boot steam up. I’m looking into fixing it, for now have this nonsense.)

Henry never ever hated the Marionette. He didn’t hate him when he was just a boy, spiting his own family for childish reasons. He didn’t hate him when he was screaming and crying and trying to refuse the gift he was giving him. He didn’t hate him when he used the privilege of being allowed to roam at will to try and kill him. And he didn’t hate him when he made his prison. When designing a prison, you had to consider many things. What was the goal of the prison? Secure? Contain? Redeem? At what point would Henry deem it necessary to capture the Marionette? Frankly- Only once he would have given up on him deciding to look at the situation rationally. For now he still had the hope that perhaps one day- ONE day- the machine would find someone he adored, that he trusted, a friend that he wanted to rely on- Someone who would open his eyes to the perks of immortality and the joy of creation. Or by himself, it didn’t matter- it just seemed so unlikely that he would on his own come to the rational conclusion. If that wouldn’t happen… He would need something that would help him move on. Something that could love the stubborn, the cruel, the hateful- Something could love the unlovable and patiently hold his hand until he could fall asleep for the final time. Something that could aid, steady and bring peace. That was a being not so easily created. Even if he would use a human soul, those were faulty and unreliable, they changed and could rot- and he worried about forcing two souls into a friendship neither wanted. No, no. Instead he would build something… perfect. A machine wasn’t impatient, a machine wasn’t resentful, a machine didn’t grow frustrated. A machine couldn’t be mentally worn down into cracking. For these reasons, Henry always adored the company of steel and rust more than that of other people. To create that however, he would need to create an AI and feed it lots and lots of information- so much that it could become a person too. A real person. He wanted to know- if he could do it. If there was a chance that if humanity was truly beyond salvation, he wanted a kind of creature to inherent this world that could appreciate and improve it. For that he needed a test run, and this robot, it would do it. Multiple functions for multiple cases. This only left the question of… what this creature would be. And how it would maintain its grip on the puppet? Pull it apart and integrate it? Humans had odd instincts. If you wanted to quiet down an infant, you put a mobile over their heads. It was said by someone that they did that, because it was the same as dangerous birds circling- it was instinct for the children to be quiet, in order to not be spotted as easy prey. Looking up always seemed to have something calming to it. A ceiling decorated with those pale stars, glowing green, soaked up with the light from the lamps from before. And when you were a child, you feared the closet, giant and dark, filled with things you couldn’t see. Thinking it would bring you pain if not checked and guarded- Of course that was until the pain inside became too much. Then they all crawled inside, curling up in the dark, praying to be the one not being spotted. Heavy footsteps, muffled voices- Henry hadn’t been exempt from that situation. Unlike many others, he never had anything to fear, but the dark still was comforting in contrast to the bright, loud and painful outside world, a world the young brain was too simple to be faced with- A world that seemed capable to turn on you at any second. Stuck between hanging coats and sweaters, it wasn’t easy to breathe, but it was possible, the lack of breathing room made it more comforting actually as there couldn’t be anything between the hanging clothes, and you were hidden… When you grow up, you often lose the chance to crawl inside such a space. You were always out in the open. Unhidden and exposed. Watched. But the memory of comfort remained. Of the door opening, abrupt footsteps, you keeping your breath shut, as nothing was there, nothing but the sounds- And then the door closing again, the footsteps leaving. … until finally, solitude. A box where they wouldn’t look for you. Where you could breathe by yourself. An escape, even if only shortly. It had only been natural for that to be imitated. It had taken a few tries to find the perfect size. Not too claustrophobic, not too much for the animatronic to become oversized and an anomaly. He took himself for measure, of course. A fuzzy, appealing interior with sensors capable of telling the machine when something was moving inside… The machine had been booted up early in the process. Watching. Talking. Learning. There was something about L.E.F.T.E. (Lure Encapsulate Fuse Transport and Extract) that Henry didn’t like and he couldn’t point it out. For all intents and purposes, he was a full success. He talked, walked and smiled, but it all felt so- uncomfortable. Maybe it was because for once in his life, he had to fulfill some sort of role as a true rolemodel. Eventually he was sure that Lefty would be able to differentiate between good, bad and the things that he had been tasked with, but for now he had to be on his best behavior- programming went hand in hand with direct real life application. “Henry.” That is how it always started, the hair on the human’s neck standing up. “… yes, Lefty?” Lefty knew he preferred to be called Miller, however, he seemed to not care much. “You look tired.” “I am not.” The bear just watched him out of his golden eyes. “You are lying.” “I am not.” With a sigh the bear shifted in his position, approaching Henry. “I have calculated that with all the things you have been doing, you must have only gotten roughly three hours of sleep at night. The human body needs eight. You are tired, Henry.” “There are conditions that allows a human to need less sleep-“ “These people tend to have a far reduced life expectancy. You are tired, Henry.” Slowly Henry rubbed his temples. It was SO much harder to force his will onto Lefty, compared to anyone else. Even Dave was more easily swayed than this stubborn machine. “Alright. I will go to sleep, right after this transfer of data from location 24, it is almost done and will aid you with future interactions. You will learn…” For a moment Lefty just watched him, letting him keep uploading the information to his own mind, for him to later go through and sort into useful and harmful. “You have lied to me in that last week for approximately fifty times. Within the last month you have lied to me over two hundred times. Forgive me, but I will not believe you.” “Tough luck friend, I cannot take you upstairs to watch me sleep, now can I?” Slightly annoyed Henry glanced at him, frustrated with how well Lefty had been keeping count. “Also, I did not lie that much.” “Define lying. Also, it is true, you cannot take me upstairs. So…” With that he opened his chest cavity. Henry stared at him. “… you are aware that if I attempted to sleep inside of there, I would die. Correct? There is no airflow inside, I can and did stay inside for fifteen minutes or so before, but anything more is dangerous.” The bear looked at him. “I see.” “Good.” The Pink Guy mumbled, not quite believing that Lefty was actually seeing sense here. “In that case, let us go back to the issue at hand. I will go to sleep later.” It was silent for a few moments. Only the quiet whirring of the fans, the buzzing of electricity. Quiet and cold, that was the kind of atmosphere that Henry could enjoy. And it was nice to have someone there. Watching along as he finished up. Company. Finally, everything was done and the cables were all placed back where they belonged, so Henry could go away and- “Henry.” “… yes, Lefty?” Slowly he turned to look at the machine, who slightly tilted his head. Then he reached up to his face, an unnatural crunch echoing from the walls as he pressed inside of there, electric sparks flying as he ripped cables and crushed the thinner metal strains that were keeping it in place- When he lowered his hand again, the inside of his eyes was crumbled and gone, leaving open and empty hole to the space inside. Rushing over, Henry quickly checked over his eyes, opening up the cavity to carefully clean up the shards, while Lefty looked down at him. A small smile on his face. “… now there should be enough air.” “You think you are incredibly clever, hm?” Disgruntled Henry kept cleaning. “You have destroyed something I have handcrafted, do you feel no shame?!” “It was necessary.” “You could have asked me to remove it.” “You would not have done so.” “I would have asked you why and then deemed you ridiculous!” “I rest my case.” Expectantly the bear looked at him, no words needing to be exchanged to make it obvious what he wanted. But Henry refused once more. “I am not about to reward your abhorrent and childish behavior. If you took out your eye to have a more convincing argument on why you should be allowed to-” “No.” Lefty simply stated, seeming almost disappointed in Henry. “I had planned to remove my eye for a while before, now just seemed like the most convenient moment. Eventually I would have taken it out anyways, to ensure the Marionette would be able to see out of me. I’m sure he would be very scared if he never would get to see the world around him…” “That… is a good way to think.” Reluctantly Henry admitted. “You are making progress on that front.” Give an eye for an eye. For a moment Lefty looked satisfied, then once more there was an expecting expression on his face. “Henry.” “… yes, Lefty?” “You should sleep now.” … more of a pain in the ass than William indeed. Taking a deep breath, Henry turned to throw away the shards he had removed from within the wool inside, then he glared for a moment at the robot. Finally he relented. He WAS tired. Mainly of Lefty’s stubborn attitude, but it had to count for something. Climbing inside, he got comfortable before the robot locked the entrance, plunging Henry in utter darkness, aside from the very slight glow above, shining through the empty eye socket. At least he could actually breathe just fine. Shifting around the Pink Guy decided to at least test some of the features again. “Can you feel this?” “I am working perfectly.” “… how about now?” “Yes. Please refrain from poking and scratching.” “Does that hurt you?” “No. But it would make your experience in there less enjoyable if you pulled off all the soft cover.” Satisfied Henry nodded, that was what he had wanted to hear. Calm and collected, not in any way intimidating, but firm. Lefty knew how to establish boundaries without being rude or coming off as demanding. Settling, he curled up a little more, leaning to the side, closing his eyes. It was quiet for a little, aside from the gently rumbling of the machine he was resting inside of- something he in the beginning tried to fix, but had grown to consider another benefit of pushing most of the mechanical functions into the walls of the machine. The air was fine, he could relax and for once the tiredness hit full force as his body heat slowly warmed up the little nest. Dozing off, he… “Henry?” It sounded weird, coming from directly above him, but at least Lefty was speaking quiet. Tired Henry groaned. “… yes, Lefty…?” “Why… do I feel so much better now?” “… what do you mean?” “I’ve tried filling this part of me up before while you were gone. With mechanical knick knacks, with blankets, with everything I could find and try. Even when all space was taken up I felt still empty. So why don’t I now?” There was an unusual sense of desperation in the question, causing Henry to take it a little more serious. “Well, Lefty… you were made to harbor a soul. Most objects do not carry one inside. You are lacking the echo of another being reflecting your own self back at you, mixed with that little bit of new… something borrowed, something new.” It wasn’t as though Henry didn’t understand EXACTLY what Lefty meant. He continued. “… you are a lonely soul by nature. Or maybe an empty one, if there is such a thing...” If there was such a thing, Henry certainly was a lonely soul too. “… and there simply is nothing that can substitute for the song and dance that is getting closer and getting comfortable with someone. Talking, prodding, joking, fighting, learning… that is how people like us complete themselves. Holding, guarding, caring… we become stronger for our other half, they give us direction, stability and purpose. No matter if you know your personal goal already or not, the other side makes it all so much more potent. It is the utter trust and acceptance that you have for the person and the person will have for you that allows you to turn into so much more than you ever expected yourself to be. Utter trust and acceptance can quickly become painful, but for your other half, you should be willing to sacrifice whatever necessary- if both sides are willing to sacrifice their very core, you will stop suffering.” The words just fell out of him, without him even being able to remember what he said as soon as it left his mouth. All he was sure about was the deep, paining aching inside of his chest, crying out. God, he was TIRED. “… you are so lucky, Lefty. You know who you were made for. You were made for someone, ever piece of you has the reassurance that he is out there and no matter what, you will be together at some point, working together as one. No matter what it will be that he will need from you, you know you can fulfill it. There is no hell on this earth like feeling like a broken piece that was never made for anything.” A little bit hesitant, Lefty listened to his maker’s words- but then decided to commit it to memory. It didn’t sound good, but it sounded right. And he was programmed to be right for the Marionette. For now though, his attention was on the creature inside him. He could feel his agony, amplified by the fuzzy half-sleep. “… is there any way to relieve such pain…?” “You have two purposes, one for the other person and one for your place in the world. If you lack one, commit to the other doubly so.” “You seem very committed.” “… I feel like such a funhouse mirror. Everything is twisted and turned inside of me. But perhaps if I make enough people happy, it will be enough, I can take a little here and there, and I can feel like them, a little, over and over again.” Sitting down, Lefty sighed gently. “… tell me, when was the last time you slept?” “… two days ago.” It came weakly from within. “I hate laying down. Such- such unproductive thoughts force themselves into my brain.” “You need to sleep down here more often.” “I can’t.” “Why.” “… bad habits… form too quickly… maybe I will have to send you out tomorrow already.” For a moment Lefty paused- Then he decided that this wasn’t a conversation they should be having now. “Sleep. We can talk more later.” It quickly became quiet again in the workshop, that now seemed fully abandoned. Only the gently rumbling of the machine aside was left. But that was a benefit.

#henry miller #lefty #Me: * gives Henry another semi-canon love interest * *gives Henr-*#I don't know what my issue is with Henry #oh well #Henry makes Lefty as his personal support robot #and lies to himself and William claiming it's for the Marionette #he needs help but he cannot admit it #Fact of the matter is that nobody will ever love Henry and it's his fault #I just feel pretty bad for the Marionette who gets this bot who has been programmed with the WORST image of love possible #though in my main canon Lefty shut down due to unforseen circumstances leaving Marion to control it himself #Unless I change my mind for the series of unfortunate ideas #I really like Lefty #He's 'kindness' incarnate #But the toxic kind of it #He's the opposite of the real Fredbear

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cripple-cryptid · 4 years ago

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Getting To Know Me (Again)

It’s been a long time since I’ve really made a serious post that was well thought out and also like, a full update. It’s been a long time since I’ve even really just made a literal “Life Update” as well. So I guess this is a good time. I think it’s important because this blog has changed quite a bit in the past few years, and I think that I need to just make some things clear. This is probably going to get long, and heavy, but I think this is important, and I’m hoping that maybe I can help people in the future after I get this taken care of. Fair Warning: I am literally the worst at organizing this sort of thing, but I would really appreciate it if you read it the whole way through because it would mean a whole lot to me.

Hello. My name is Sava. I’m 22 years old. I’m a transmasculine Agender individual, and my preferred pronouns are They/He. Truthfully, I don’t mind other pronouns as long as they are not She/Her. I am a trans person, and I experience dysphoria. I’m planning on getting top surgery and HRT at some point in my life. I don’t know when, but I hope that it will be soon. I’m also Asexual, and Aromantic. I’m sex repulsed, and romantically indifferent. I am polyaffectionate (thanks to @aromanticpolyamory for the flag on this one, and coining the term as far as I’m aware?) and I have two partners. I love them both very much, with all my heart, even when I am an AroAce. So in summary, I’m a polyaffectionate Triple A (thank you @aro-ace-agender-space for the beautiful Triple A Pride Flag once again I literally love it to death)

I am also disabled. Mentally, and physically. I went most of my life undiagnosed, however I have been tested repeatedly for various things since I was a small child. I was always disregarded, and never got a proper diagnosis for my mental illnesses until I was 17. My physical ailments were ignored and went unnoticed until I was an adult, and I still am working towards a true understanding of what is going on. I am an amalgamation of many things, both mentally and physically, and it is a very long and frustrating process. Everything from my Depression, PTSD, and various other mental illnesses mix with my hEDS, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Migraines, and Insomnia. New symptoms are cropping up, as well as potential new problems. There are many things that make sense to me now that I look back on how I grew up. My old injuries make sense. My weird allergies make sense. Some of the things that I seemed to have inherited from my parents now make sense. But now that I’m older, I’m starting to learn. I have tools, braces, and mobility aids that make life easier. I finally decided that meds are a smart idea, so doing the responsible thing is starting to pay off. I hope.

I’m...not the same person I was when I first joined this site 10 years ago. I was innocent, misguided, selfish, manipulative, lazy, and bigoted. I did nothing to change my views, and didn’t really allow anyone to educate me on things that I did not realize were actually important. I was ableist, somehow sexist and misogynistic, and downright stupid. Despite all this, I thought I was right in all the wrong ways, and never tried to properly justify any of my points. And this is where everything changes.

I am going to put a warning here now. These are my beliefs, and If I receive any hate in my messages or in my askbox because of what I am about to say, I’m not even going to answer them. I am entitled to my opinion, and you are to yours. If I am threatened, I will report the threats. And that is that.

You are allowed to self Dx. I’m not going to say that it’s better than a professional diagnosis 100% of the time, but some people are not capable of getting a professional Dx at that point in their lives. Sometimes, it’s the start of the journey towards finding answers, and that is why I support it. You do not need dysphoria to be trans. Now mind you, I am referring to the umbrella term here. I feel that sometimes, you don’t agree with the identity that you were assigned with at birth, and that it can cause a serious disconnect. This can apply to many different identities, whether that is genderfluidity, gender neutrality, or another identity, it is not for me to say. I am not in charge of your body, you mind, and how your autonomy works. I know that people will argue with me on this, but I think the most important thing is that we all need to support each other in the community, regardless of what labels we use. It’s a journey of self discovery, and sometimes, labels change. It’s okay. I love you no matter what. Aspec People belong in the LGBT+ community. I’m not going to expand on this because I don’t have to. There is plenty of history that you can look up for yourself on the internet, and I don’t have to justify myself. Your spiritual beliefs (or lack thereof) are yours to practice, and I’m not going to shame you for them. I have my own beliefs, and I’m not going to shove them down your throat. I’m not going to tell you that you’re going to hell. I’m not going to try to “convert” you. I’m going to respect you to the best of my ability, and if I need clarification on anything, I will try my best to make sure that I do not overstep any boundaries. I will not shame you for your body, no matter how you look or how it works. It is not my place to tell you how to look, how to dress, or how to take care of yourself. I love you and I hope that you can love yourself, too. Abled people do not have a say in how to treat disabled bodies. You do not know our pain and you have not gone through the same journies that we have. This goes the same for neurotypical people and speaking for neurodivergent people. We know ourselves better than you ever could. POC voices are the only voices that matter on topics that relate to their struggles. White voices hold no weight because we know nothing about what we are saying. BLACK LIVES MATTER. FOREVER.

There are many topics that I have not addressed here, but I cannot think of many more at this current moment. I’m considering making some sort of masterpost, or fixing up my FAQ later on to better address all these things later on. But I have more that I need to and want to say in this post, and I need to move on.

It’s been a long time, and things change. I have changed. This blog has changed many times. I will probably be revamping the appearance of the blog soon as well. so I decided that this long post is a good time to say the things that I need to say.

I want to help people. I might be a bit of a grump, and sometimes, I’m a bit of a wild card when it comes to things that I’ve posted in the past (read as: I’ve posted some really dark shit because I’ve been in some really dark places in the past). I don’t know everything, but I still want to be here to help others. I want to be here for people that are struggling with pain, and need some help. I want to be here for people that are hurting and don’t know how to start the process of healing. I want to be here for people that maybe don’t have the capability to get the help that they need, because they will never have the chance. I want to be the friend that I never had when I was younger. If I can do that, I’ll be happy. This might just be wishful thinking, but I really do want to be a bigger voice in the disabled community, in the mental health community, and in the LGBT+ community. I want to be part of something bigger.

So once again I will say: I’m Sava. I’m 22. I’m a triple A. I’m polyaffectionate. I’m disabled. And I want to help others and make a difference.

#spoonie #disabled #chronic illness #chronic pain #neurodivergent #self care #l!fe #me #long post #LGBT+#aroace #asexual #aromantic #agender #polyaffectionate #trans #cane user #wheelchair user

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audreycj-things · 4 years ago

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[𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰 𝓽𝔀𝓸] My Top Five I.T. Career Choices

Are you a current or aspiring student of the information technology department? Are you having trouble with what job to take once you’ve completed your four years of torture college? If that’s two yeses, you’re in luck because in this blog post, I’ll be sharing with you the possible careers I’m considering on taking after I graduate.

But before that, let me share with you how I became a part of the Computer Studies department in the first place!

A Back Story of My Career Dilemmas

Roughly three years ago, upon approaching my senior high school years, I was dead set on taking the path towards becoming a lawyer. Hence, I enrolled under the Humanities and Social Sciences strand. (I no longer remember why I wanted to take up law though.) A few self-evaluations later, I realized I wanted to become a medical professional, specifically a neurosurgeon. I can attribute this to familial expectations, the many Korean dramas I watched, and my desire to improve the country’s healthcare system, to help people, and to be one of the few doctors with nice handwriting. And so, I shifted to the STEM strand up until I graduated.

During my last few months in senior high, I underwent personal dilemmas on what I really wanted. Amidst my extended family’s career expectations for me, my wise mother constantly reminded me the reality of medical professionals’ work. She emphasized the importance of your college program being a product of your own choice rather than everyone else’s expectations. And so, I was no longer sure of what program to take in college. At this point, I was already panicking, especially after seeing how confident my peers were with what career they had in mind. All I knew is that I was completely clueless of what to become and that I am a fairly versatile individual who always tries her best in whatever situation and opportunity she’s thrown in. (I’m known to be a jack-of-all-trades type of person.)

Seeing my struggle, my mom recommended me to consider the I.T. field. As a college professor and her university’s official representative to local and international seminars, she has witnessed and understood the potential and significance of professions under this field. Although hesitant at first—mostly because I haven’t been too exposed to opportunities that allow me to acquire advanced computer-related skills (not including the ones I learned in my basic education’s computer classes)— I gave her suggestion some thought and decided that I shall take up the challenge.

And so, here I am, enrolled as a Computer Science student in the tech savvy Malayan Colleges Mindanao.

My Top Five I.T. Career Choices

Before anything else, allow me to explain briefly about the I.T. field that I plan to be a part of. This is for you to be able to catch up with what I’m trying to say, especially since there are going to be various technical terms from here on. And who knows? I might spark your interest in giving this career path a try!

According to Computer Science Online, the information technology industry operates across a range of industries, such as healthcare, finance, education, and entertainment. Broadly, information technology can be defined as the use of computing via various components (e.g. hardware, services, software) to develop, manage, transform, share and store information in different forms. Careers in information technology deal with the design, creation, management, and maintenance of the varied components of the system, including software, hardware, networks, systems integration, and multimedia.

[1] COMPUTER PROGRAMMER

The number one thing that I absolutely want to become is to be a computer programmer.

Following Technopedia’s definition, a computer programmer is a skilled professional who codes, tests, debugs, and maintains the comprehensive instructions known as computer programs that devices should follow to execute their functions. Computer programmers also conceptualize, design, and test logical structures to solve computer issues. Programmers make use of specific computer languages like C, C++, Java, PHP, .NET, etc. to convert the program designs developed by software developers or system architects into instructions that the computer could follow. They often refer to code libraries for simplifying their coding and might build or make use of computer-aided software tools to automate the coding.

I’ve always been awestruck of how coding works. It amazes me how a series of words and symbols arranged in a definite order will result to apps, websites, and other various software—even this word document I’m using under Microsoft Office! It’s surreal how each element of this software functions in such a smart and creative manner, especially when you know it as merely words and symbols in its raw form. I want to be able to do this by developing and learning all the knowledge and skills a good programmer should possess. Afterall, one should aim for excellence first; success will follow.

[2] SOFTWARE DEVELOPER

Another career that I would love to have is to be a software developer.

According to CollegeGrad, software developers are the creative minds behind computer programs. Some develop the applications that allow people to do specific tasks on a computer or another device. Others develop the underlying systems that run the devices or that control networks. Software developers oversee the entire development process for a software program, including testing and maintenance. They design the program and then give instructions to programmers, who write computer code and test it.

Admittedly, I prefer doing the back-end job of a programmer. I don’t really love leading a team in a somewhat creativity-based project. However, the idea of initiating and facilitating the coming-to-life process of a computer program seems incredibly fulfilling. If ever I do become a software developer, I would probably create a computer program that will be of use to hospitals and schools. In fact, my mother encourages me to consider developing an enrollment system someday. No pressure.

[3] DATABASE ADMINISTRATOR

My third option is to become a database administrator.

According to Learn How to Become and Wikipedia, database administrators are responsible for establishing databases for organizations in all sectors of the economy in accordance with their specific needs in order to ensure that data is readily accessible for efficient and effective use by anyone with permission to use it. They use specialized software to store and organize data. Their role may include capacity planning, installation, configuration, database design, migration, performance monitoring, security, troubleshooting, as well as backup and data recovery.

A database administrator’s job appeals to my perfectionism. The idea of being in-charge of keeping everything organized is a huge but ultimately fulfilling challenge.

[4] CYBER SECURITY CONSULTANT

Another career I have in mind is to be a cyber security consultant.

Top Universities emphasizes that maintaining cyber security in the modern world has become increasingly important, so a cyber security consultant’s role focuses on understanding the risks to the security of information or data. I would have to analyze where security breaches may occur or have occurred, and restore or reinforce systems against such breaches, to ensure that confidential data is protected. This role could include ‘ethical hacking’, meaning deliberately attempting to hack into my employer’s network to expose any weaknesses. Alternatively, I could work as a computer forensics analyst or investigator to combat the increasing phenomenon of cyber-crime.

I can attribute my attractions towards this career to the movies I’ve watched that portray hacking (or anything of the sort) to be cool. In several action movies, I always felt excited when seeing characters getting out of a tight, life-and-death situation with their cyber security-related skills. Although now I know that there’s more to this job than hacking—which they only do for testing reasons, otherwise it would be a crime—it still appeals to that part of my self that craves for thrill. In hindsight, the chances of coming across serious cyber security situations (like a government cyber security breach) here in the Philippines is quite low compared to other countries, so I guess my thrill-seeking self won’t be too satisfied if I work locally.

[5] GAME DEVELOPER

My last and fifth career choice is to become a game developer.

According to Top Universities, game developers produce games for personal computers, games consoles, social/online games, arcade games, tablets, mobile phones, and other handheld devices. This role splits into two main parts. First, there’s the creative side of designing a game and dealing with the art, animation, and storyboarding. Second, there’s the programming side, using programming languages such as C++.

I fit into the second part of developing game—the programming part. Although I’d rather invest on computer programs that are of use to the community, helping create a game seems like a fun way to apply coding. In hindsight, games are not just limited to the “fun” aspect because they offer more benefits than entertainment, so I guess I’m still helping the community in a way. I play games myself, especially the MOBA (Multiplayer Online Battle Arena) game called League of Legends. I understand and have experienced that one can learn, acquire, and hone skills (like strategy planning, enhanced reflexes, analysis) from playing games, especially complex ones. Furthermore, one can create and maintain friendships with games, as well as improve their self-confidence.

OVERALL...

Computer programmer, software developer, database administrator, cyber security consultant, game developer… whatever my career will be, I hope I’ll love what I’ll do and contribute something to the betterment of the community.

I also hope to prove some family members wrong about IT-related jobs being insignificant, that graduates under this program just “end up in computer shops.” While managing and maintaining a computer shop is a noble job, there’s so much more to the professions under I.T. that are constantly being overlooked and taken for granted. We are literally living in the digital age, yet many people still don’t appreciate this field enough. Hopefully, I’ll be able to enlighten and inspire people to try this career path and be a part of the tech savvy community.

Wish me luck in my journey!

#career #computer science #information technology #blog post

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mgmirani · 5 years ago

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A Second Chance

(Reuploading this post since Tumblr mobile somehow ate it)

So! This is my entry for Soukoku Week 2019! ( @soukokuweek19 ) I’m not entirely sure how this word vomit turned into something vaguely coherent but I love it and these two adorable morons (mainly Dazai - he’s definitely the bigger moron).

This was originally written for Day 3: Reaching out but, as it went on, I realised it had drifted away from that so now I’m tagging it under Day 7: Free Day!

Hope you all enjoy reading!

Title: a Second Chance

Prompt: Day 7 - Free Day

Pairing: Soukoku (Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya)

Words: 7787

Summary: It’s a few days after the fight with Lovecraft and Dazai realises that maybe, just maybe, leaving his ex-partner alone in a field after he passed out from exhaustion wasn’t the best decision he could have made. And...wait, when did he start thinking the Chibi was pretty?

(Note: this work contains no triggering or explicit materials)

Four years…

It had been four years since he’d last seen Chuuya and yet, in that Port Mafia holding cell, fiery red hair blending into the red light, blue eyes flashing as they looked up at him, it had felt like no time had passed at all.

More time had passed since then and yet the memory was as clear in his mind as if it happened only yesterday.

Chuuya…

Ignoring Kunikida’s increasingly frequent (and loud) attempts to get him to do his paperwork, Dazai continued to slouch on the couch, eyes closed as he pictured the scene in his mind.

Thoughts of that encounter, naturally, lead him to thoughts of their second. This time, Chuuya had been bathed in blue from the light of the full moon. Red and blue...the same colour as Chuuya’s hair and eyes. It seemed almost ironic.

That encounter had taken place less than a week ago. The Guild was officially defeated thanks to himself, Chuuya, Atsushi and Akutagawa (although how on earth Lovecraft had survived to apparently jump into the sea, Dazai had no idea and no wish to understand) and things had returned to a semblance of what could be considered ‘normal’ for the residents of Yokohama.

...With the exception that there was still an uneasy truce between the ADA and the Port Mafia. Dazai held no illusions that the truce would last overly long. It was only a matter of time before they were, once again, at odds. The question wasn’t if, but when and how the uneasy peace would come crashing down.

“I used Corruption because I trusted you.”

Chuuya’s remembered words drifted through his mind and he shut his eyes more tightly, deliberately trying to turn his mind away from the accusing tone. Chuuya had been tired (he always was after using Corruption) and, though his tone had been exhausted, Dazai had still heard the reproach clear as day.

He hadn’t been entirely truthful in his answer to Chuuya’s question regarding why he hadn’t stopped him as soon as the fight was over. Oh sure, it had been fun to watch Chuuya throw about singularities like it was nothing but that hadn’t been his entire reason.

Chuuya had looked...beautiful.

The blue light, the red markings...the contrast and the sheer power that Chuuya had exuded...he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Even when he wasn’t fully in control, Chuuya always captured his attention: be it to tease or admire.

Not that his Chibi was aware of the admiration. He was far more used to the teasing, the little comments that got him all riled, all the remarks that had those pretty blue eyes flashing with anger or frustration. Dazai couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t resist putting a spark in those eyes just because he wanted it directed at him.

Was this healthy? Absolutely not. But, then again, when had Dazai Osamu ever done anything that was in his own best interest?

...okay, scratch that. When had he ever done anything for his own personal health? He was well aware that he was, in truth, rather selfish despite his attempts to be better.

He cracked open an eye to watch as Atsushi bickered with Tachihara and sent pleading looks to Kyoka for help. The girl, predictably, ignored the unsubtle requests for aid and continued to do her own work. The girl was still on a bit of an emotional high after becoming a full member of the ADA and was determined to keep up with everyone else despite the fact that she was still only fourteen and so, technically, shouldn't be expected to do the same amount of work as everyone else. Then again, she’d been in the Port Mafia and no one remained a child for long there, especially not someone who had already killed 35 people. Dazai should know. He’d long since lost count. Even so, as he stared at Atsushi’s face, tiger-gold eyes shining brightly as he gesticulated wildly, Dazai felt a smile turn up the corners of his lips.

He’d made himself better and that was reflected in Atsushi, in Kyoka, in the relationships he’d managed to somehow scrape together with the other people in the ADA despite how much of a pain in the ass he made himself. He still had a long way to go but, he thought, he’d reached some sort of state in which Odasaku might approve.

And yet…

“I used Corruption because I trusted you…”

And yet, when it came to Chuuya, he had so easily fallen into old habits. It had felt so natural, so right to tease him, to encourage that temper he was still so well known for (even if it was far more difficult for others to bring it to the surface nowadays). Dazai hadn’t even really thought about what he was doing while he interacted with Chuuya, his words and actions flowing like a well-rehearsed script which he had no need to alter, as familiar as breathing and as easy as closing his eyes at the end of a long day.

And yet…

And yet, should he not have done better?

“Take me...to the extraction point…”

Chuuya had trusted him to step in when he used Corruption and Dazai had (at his own pace). Chuuya had asked him to take him somewhere safe after using Corruption and Dazai...Dazai had left him lying on the ground in a field at midnight with his hat and coat folded neatly beside him. He’d left without so much as a backwards glance.

Chuuya had been fine and he’d known that he’d be fine. There wasn’t anyone else around when they’d left and the location was isolated enough that no one was likely to come across him so Chuuya hadn’t been in any real danger.

Still…

Asking himself if he’d done the right thing was rather redundant. He knew that he hadn’t and it was niggling at him, like a toothache which he couldn’t do anything about or an itch that he just couldn’t scratch. The urge to do...something, wouldn’t leave him alone.

There was, of course, the choice of just ignoring the problem until it went away. That wasn’t an option though. They were in the same city and their organisations were likely to either ally or antagonise each their on a regular basis from this point onwards. He was going to run into Chuuya again sooner rather than later so that was completely out of the question.

What then, should he do? Should he do anything? Would Chuuya be surprised that he’d left him there? Probably not.

That thought had Dazai frowning to himself. He’d gotten used to living up to people’s expectations of him, especially when it came to Atsushi. He’d been able to help him, to help Kyoka and the Agency as a whole that living down to Chuuya’s expectations rather than up…

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

He thought of the surprise that would’ve been on the Chibi’s face if he’d woken up at the extraction point and wished that he’d actually done it. He was sure the reaction would have been amusing. The anger would, of course, have also been amusing but the thought of eliciting a different reaction from the fiery redhead…

Dazai resolved that, the next time they crossed paths, he would do that. He’d make sure and take care of Chuuya if only for the surprise that would cross those expressive features, the confusion that would be hastily covered up in those pretty blue eyes…

...pretty?

Dazai blinked to himself. Since when had he thought of Chuuya’s eyes as pretty? He’d thought so earlier but he hadn’t noticed doing so at the time. Sure, he found him attractive in an “if I wasn’t attracted to women” sort of way but who didn’t? But actually considering him pretty? He’d always thought Chuuya interesting, fun to poke at and, yes, beautiful with Corruption tracing over his skin but…

...when had this happened?

Not important - alright maybe important but not the main thing he needs to focus on right now. He found Chuuya pretty but surely that didn't mean anything. He wanted to elicit more reactions from the Chibi, positive ones and not just negative ones. He wanted…

...he wanted Chuuya to look at him the way Poe was currently staring at Ranpo while the other was...looking at him.

Ranpo smirked, corners of his lips lifting up in a knowing expression, glasses reflecting the midday light coming in through the windows and Dazai felt his back stiffen.

Deciding to cut his losses, he stood, making it look as natural as possible and not like he was choosing to run away from those too-perceptive eyes, and strode purposefully from the office. Kunikida’s calls for him to return to his desk were, of course, ignored.

It was as he was closing the door taht he heard it.

“Finally.”

He paused, waiting to see what Ranpo would say next. There was nothing for a few seconds before the silence was finally broken.

“...um...what do you mean Ranpo-san?”

“Dazai finally got a clue,” was the only response Ranpo gave and Dazai felt a brief flicker of relief that the detective hadn’t said anything else. He was even more grateful that, at this point, Ranpo hadn’t actually met Chuuya.

Hmmm...now there was a thought. That could be amusing.

Mentally shaking himself, Dazai strode out of the building, debated a moment before heading back to his apartment. He wanted a quiet place to think so he could plan how best to reach out to Chuuya.

..and to process what he’d realised while lounging on the Agency’s couch this afternoon. He couldn’t exactly freak out in public now, could he? Well, he could, but he didn’t feel like drawing attention to himself for a change. Perhaps later when he was in the mood to draw interesting expressions from people other than his Chibi.

Wait...his Chibi?

Well, of course Chuuya was his. They had made that bet hadn’t they? Would Chuuya even remember it, he wondered, with everything else that had happened during those few days. Dazai did though. How could he forget the sound of Chuuya’s head hitting the console or the yell of frustration quickly cut off by surprise as he’d ducked down behind the machine, trying not to be noticed by his so-called ‘friends’ from that stupid gang. Really, Dazai had done him a favour. If they were that easy to turn against him, they didn’t deserve Chuuya anyway.

He stepped more quickly, determined to get home as soon as possible.

He had to think.

—————

Chuuya still lived at the same address.

Dazai wasn't surprised.

What did, however, surprise him, was the easy way the key turned in the lock.

Huh...Chibi hadn’t changed his locks in the four years Dazai had been gone. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Putting said thought to the back of his mind for later consideration, he opened the door on silent hinges and carefully stepped inside.

Chuuya liked his comforts; that included a thick, soft rug which made it incredibly easy to walk silently through the quiet flat. It was about half an hour from sunset and the light filtering through the windows was fiery, tinting everything in shades of gold, copper and red.

As he looked around, he noted that, alongside the locks, very little had changed. Perhaps there was a new piece of art and he was quite sure that the loveseat he remembered had been replaced by a large armchair but, other than that, it was like stepping back in time.

This seemed to happen a lot where Chuuya was concerned.

Dazai had to be careful. He couldn’t let himself slip into old habits. He was here to reach out, to prove that he had changed over the last four years.

…..by sneaking into his flat with the key he’d swiped when they were 16.

Baby steps.

Silently acknowledging that, perhaps, this hadn’t been the best plan but committed to following it through nonetheless, Dazai stepped further into the flat. It was as he was passing a small table that he noticed it; the hat.

Chuuya never went anywhere without that stupid hat so, therefore, the only conclusion Dazai could draw was taht Chuuya was somewhere in his flat.

...and he hadn’t noticed Dazai yet.

Pausing all movement, Dazai closed his eyes and focused all his attention on his surroundings, listening for the slightly rustle of cloth, the faintest screen from deeper into the fat.

Nothing.

Turning his head to better peer into the living room, Dazai confirmed that, yes, Chuuya wasn’t in there, waiting to ambush him. Nor, it appeared, was he in the kitchen.

Logically, that left only one place.

The bedroom door was shut and, aa he approached, Dazai felt a shiver of anticipation go through him. He hadn’t managed to sneak up on Chuuya in quite a while and this was definitely going to result in an interesting reaction.

He may be here to make amends with the Chibi but that didn’t mean he was above drawing out some fun reactions. Just because hw wanted Chuuya to look at him...more positively...didn’t mean he was going to give up antagonisinghim. Where would the fun be in that?

Moving slowly, Dazai reached out and opened the door. It was as quiet as the rest of the flat, swinging on silent hinges as Dazai slowly and carefully opened it enough to slip through and nothing more.

Chuuya was lying in bed, head turned away from the door and towards the massive window on the oppositee wall. Yokohama was lit by crimson light which spilled over Chuuya, blending perfectly with his hair which was fanned out behind him on his pillow.

Dazai felt his breath catch slightly but resolutely ignored it.

Still..

Dazai removed his phone from his pocket and took a picture, thankful he had the camera sound turned off. Chuuya was asleep and he doubted he’d get this chance again any time soon.

Putting his phone away as he stepped further into the room, Dazai was careful to keep his steps light. Chuuya’s bedroom had a wooden floor, a deep cherry wood which matched the furnishings. Said furnishings included the massive four-poster bed which was set against the wall between the walls containing the door and window respectively. The red curtains (and why was he not surprised?) were pulled back, tied neatly to the bed posts with thin braided chords.

The blankets, of course, matched the curtains perfectly and Dazai wondered when exactly Chuuya had time ti pick out such things and how his little ex-partner managed to reach the top of the four-poster bed. Did he have a footstool hiding somewhere or did he just use his gravity manipulation?

This rather random (and entirely amusing) train of thought was cut off when Dazai managed to get a good look at Chuuya’s face.

What he had initially taken for redness from the setting sun was, in fact, revealed to be a deep flush accross his normally pale skin. Now that he was closer, he could hear that, although Chuuya was indeed asleep, his breathing was shallower than would be expected and there was a light sheen of sweat accross his forehead.

He also noted a few dark purple bruises tracing their way accross Chuuya’s skin, disappearing below the blanket. It had been a few days since the incident with Lovecraft and his partner (honestly he couldn’t even remember his name; he was that unimportant) and yet the bruises looked like they had only appeared yesterday.

Dazai felt his stomach drop and a pang in his chest.

Chuuya, apparently, hadn’t been fine.

This...changed things.

—————

Chuuya cracked his eyes open, knowing that something was wrong but not having the energy to deal with it. He felt like his limbs were made of lead and, when he tried to sit up, his head started spinning badly enough that he immediately paused all movement.

Fuck he hated this.

It had been four years since he’d used Corruption and, somehow, in those four years, he’d managed to forget exactly how painful the aftermath was. It could, however, just be that it was worse this time. His body wasn’t used to it anymore.

And, he thought bitterly, it wasn’t as if spending the night in a fucking field out in the open had helped.

Damn Dazai…

“Don’t worry...I got you.”

Yeah fucking right. That was why, at dawn, he’d had to drag himself to Mori’s office, give a delayed report and then drag himself home only to collapse in bed without even being able to change. He’d woken up hours later with the beginnings of a fever and, despite how much it ached and how much he didn’t want to, he’d made himself change out of his filthy clothes, strip the bed and put on clean sheets since he’d slept in his bed without changing out of said filthy clothes, and preprared for about a week of hell.

He’d been conscious for perhaps four to five hours of the last few days, his body demanding that he sleep while it healed from the use of Corruption and fought the fever. Admittedly he wouldn’t have been able to do much even if he had been awake considering how difficult and painful it was to move at this point. His body felt like one giant bruise and, upon waking for the second time covered in sweat and dizzy as fuck, he vowed that he was going to hunt Dazai down when he was able and kick the shit out of the lying bastard. Killing him would be too easy (and likely what the bastard wanted) so Chuuya wouldn’t do that. No, he’d just make him wish he was dead.

A noise from just beyond the door had him turning his head. He almost immediately regretted it, his temples throbbing, but he forced himself to ignore it, fingers twitching under the blanket. What had caused that sound? Was someone in his flat? Who could it be?

As he was preparing to do...soemthing (his brain was far too foggy to come up with anything coherent) the door opened further (he was sure he’d closed it before crawling into bed) and, who should walk in, but the person he was currently planning the maiming of.

“Dazai...”

The name was hissed between clenched teeth, coming out as little more than a croak. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the bandaged bastard in his bedroom doorway.

Dazai had paused, like he was surprise Chuuya was awake, and Chuuya felt his temper flare.

How dare he. How fucking dare that asshole break into his flat after what he’d done. How fuckign dare he!

“Nice to see Chuuya’s awake,” Dazai commented, his tone far quieter than his normal boisterous delivery but Chuuya couldnt’ focus on taht right now, too overcome with the absolute rage he felt at seeing Dazai so soon after being abandoned in a fucking field at midnight after using Corruption.

“I’m gonna make you...wish...you were dead,” he got out through gritted teeth.

“I know,” Dazai replied, not seeming phased by the threat of physical violence and, right now, Chuuya wasn’t all taht surprised. He doubted he could threaten a kitten in his current state, let alone a slippery bastard like Dazai.

“The fuck do you want,?” He growled, deciding he didn’t have time to deal with Dazai’s bullshit.

“Chibi needs help,” was the immediate reply and Chuuya felt himself tense.

Help?

Dazai thought he needed help?

The bastard thought he needed help after what he did?

“Get. Out.”

“Not until Chibi’s feeling well enough to toss me out himself,” Dazai returned immediately. Chuuya snarled.

What an utter bastard. What was he getting out of this? Was he just here to make fun of the fact that, currently, Chuuya couldn’t throw a pillow, let alone Dazai’s lanky ass? Yeah, that must be it. He was here to be a bastard.

What else was new?

“Her to gloat then? Should’ve known.”

Dazai blinks, affecting a surprised expression which Chuuya wasn’t buying for a moment.

“Gloat?”

“Yes, gloat,” Chuuya repeats, feeling some part of him settle now that he’d figured out exactly why Dazai was here. The bastard would taunt him for a while, maybe make a half-hearted (and entirely unhelpful) effort to aid him and then fuck off back to his detective agency until the next time he needed Chuuya to hit something he couldn’t talk his way around.

Dazai, it seemed, wanted to draw this out though since, unlike what Chuuya was expecting, he didn’t immediately drop the act nd start taunting him. Instead, Dazai made a “wait here” gesture (which was rather ridiculous since he could barely make himself roll over, let alone get out of bed right now) and left the room.

What was he doing? Was he trying to put him on edge by making noise where Chuuya couldn't see or reach? Was he breaking his shit so Chuuya would have to clean up the mes when he could drag himself out of bed? No, that would be too simple and blunt for Dazai. He had to be up to soemthing else.

Sounds reached his ears but he couldn't figure out what they were. All he could do was lie there and wait for Dazai to return.

He must’ve dozed off again because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes and turning towards a weight he felt on the bed. Dazai had returned and sat himself on the edge of the bed, perching like a bird that knew it would have to take flight rather quickly at any moment.

“What do you want now?” He grumbled, too tired to put up too much of a fight. His anger had, apparently, given way to tiredness while he’d been dozing and Chuuya couldn’t find the strength to muster it again. What was even the point? Perhaps this was a good thing. If Dazai couldn't get any interesting reactions from him, he might go away faster. Dazai was, after all, like a spoilt kid with a shiny toy. That toy was, in this case, Chuuya (loathe as he was to compare himself to such a thing). If Chuuya didn’t react, didn’t give Dazai anything to work with, he’d move on to something else more shiny, more fun to poke at with a stick to watch its reaction.

Dazai didn’t reply to him, instead turning and picking something up from the bedside table he sat beside. He heard the sound of water slouching about before something cool and damp was pressed against his forehead.

Wha…?

Dazai, not noticing his confusion (or more likely pretending not to notice - that bastard noticed everything) turned away from him. Chuuya wanted to reach up and throw the cloth at Dazai’s stupid face, put enough weight behind it to cave in the bastard’s fucking skull ike he deserved but, again, he couldn’t make himself move.

When Dazai turned back to him, he was holding a bowl in one hand and...a spoon in the other.

“No,”

“Chibi needs to eat.”

“I said no!” The anger was back, blazing in his chest. So this was his plan then? Not just gloat but try and humiliate him too? Probably taunt him while he fed him like a fucking child. Fuck that. He wasn’t going to accept it. Whatever it was was likely poisoned anyway (be it deliberately or because of the shitty bastard’s inability to cook anything without somehow making it toxic).

“Chuuya needs to eat,” Dazai repeated, as if he thought using Chuuya’s actual name instead of that stupid fucking taunt would make a difference.

Chuuya closed his eyes and turned his face away. If Dazai wanted him to eat whatever it was, he’d have to force it down his throat. He heard a sigh and felt himself bristle more. What did that bastard have to sigh about? He wasn’t the one stuck in bed with a fever and covered in bruises because his fucking partner had abandoned him after a mission.

His train of thought was rudely interrupted when he felt...something, sliding through his hair.

What the…?

It was soothing, rhythmic and...very pleasant. Unbidden, he felt his body relax, muscles that had been tensed to do...soemthing...uncoiling like an unwound spring.

It was as he felt himself lean into it that he realised what it was and tensed all over again.

Dazai was petting him, running his fingers through Chuuya’s (undoubtedly sweaty) hair, fingers playing with the strands before returning to massage his scalp. He really was out of it if he hadn’t been able to recognize what Dazai was doing.

How pathetic.

“Chibi’s always been the most stubborn when he’s sick,” Dazai murmured and Chuuya held in a snort.

“Who was the one who acted like he was dying from a cold?”

“It could’ve turned into pneumonia,” Dazai defended, tone indignant.

“You are such a fucking drama queen,” Chuuya muttered, eyes slipping closed again as he let himself enjoy the physical contact. He knew this was a trick of some sort (it was Dazai - there was always a trick) but, with how little energy he had right now, he was willing to enjoy it before the bastard pulled something else.

Hadn’t he been angry not a minute ago? He tried to concentrate on the feeling but couldn’t. He was still angry, still furious with the other male but he just didn’t have the energy to express it properly. His mind was also vaguely foggy (probably from the fever) so that likely wasn’t helping.

Fuck this situation and fuck Dazai Osamu. When this was over, he was going to pay the bastard back for this, one way or another.

“Hmmm…” Dazai made a non-comical noise and Chuuya’s thoughts were forcibly dragged back to the present moment, to the feeling of Dazai’s fingers tangling themselves in his hair and rubbing gentle circles against his scalp.

“Chuuya never eats after Corruption. I suppose that hasn’t changed.”

The comment caught Chuuya off guard. Weren’t they just talking about how much of a pain Dazai was when he’s ill?

“...Your point?”

“Chuuya should eat more.”

Yes, Chuuya should drag himself, in his current state, to the kitchen and make himself something to eat. That would go absolutely wonderfully he was sure. His expression clearly must have conveyed his thoughts because Dazai once again held up the bowl.

“No.”

“What if I eat some?”

“Your a suicidal maniac. If you eat it, it’s definitely poison.”

“Chuuuya,” Dazai whined and Chuuya fought back a small smirk at the tone. It felt good to annoy Dazai, even just a little. For all he knew the bastard could just be putting it on but he’d take what he could get in this situation.

“And what if I didn’t make it?”

“Then where did you get it?” Had Dazai raided his cupboards to find something? He couldn’t remember what was in there. Did he have a few tins of soup stored somewhere? It was possible.

Dazai, for once, kept his mouth shut and, instead, tilted the bowl so that Chuuya could get a good look at the contents and, at the same time, ensuring that he had the opportunity to smell whatever it was.

As he breathed in, the familiarity of the bowl’s contents hit his senses and his eyes widened minutely.

How the…?

“This is still you favourite, right?” Dazai asked, tilting the bowl further towards him.

“...how the hell do you remember that after four years?”

“You ordered me to get it for you often enough. It’s hard to forget.”

Hesitantly, Chuuya leaned forward and took another, deeper sniff of the revealed bouillabaisse. He’d discovered a small cafe not long after moving into this flat, only a few streets away, and had fallen utterly in love with their food. It hadn’t taken him long to get into the habit of eating there once a week or, on the odd occasion where he didn’t feel like being out in public, having the staff prepare him a meal which he would then eat in the privacy of his own flat.

The bouillabaisse in the bowl had been one of the first things on the menu he’d tried. There was just something about it that Chuuya couldn’t quite put his finger on. All he knew was that it had become a routine rather early in their relationship that, after using Corruption and returning home (normally dragged there by Dazai or one of his minders), he’d have someone fetch him a bowl of bouillabaisse from that cafe, eat it and then pass out for a few days.

Apparently, Dazai had remembered…

It didn’t mean anything. Just because the bastard remembered this was his favourite thing to eat when he was ill or post-Corruption, didn’t mean Chuuya was going to eat it.

“Come on,” Dazai coaxed. “How will you feel better and throw me out if you don’t eat anything?”

“...Are you seriously trying to use logic? You, of all people?”

“Chuuya says that like I’m not logical.”

“Are you implying you are?”

“When am I ever not logical?”

“March 5th, five years ago.”

Was it his imagination or were Dazai’s cheeks turning a little red? Nah, it was probably the light coming in through his windows.

“Chuuya’s being mean when I came here to help him feel better,” Dazai pouted and Chuuya snorted slightly.

“Since when do you help anyone but yourself?”

The mirth fled Dazai’s face, leaving it blank. It was only in the absence of emotion that Chuuya realised just how much of it Dazai had been exuding. The gaze looking down at him felt...empty and, despite how warm he felt, he had to fight back a shiver.

This was the Dazai he remembered; the one that could go from playfully vicious to cold, ruthless and unnerving in less time than it took you to blink. And there Chuuya was, practically helpless lying in bed with those deadened, blank eyes staring down at him.

“Four years ago.”

Chuuya blinked, confused.

What?

“Well...that’s perhaps a bit generous. Maybe about a year and a half ago.”

“Had Dazai...answered his question?

“What the fuck?”

It was only when those dead eyes flickered that he realised that he must’ve asked the question aloud.

“You see,” Dazai continued. “I didn’t join the Agency right away. I had to lay low for a few years, keep my head down, show I could stay out of trouble before they would...deal...with my record.”

“So what changed?”

If Dazai was in the mood to answer questions (even if Chuuya was more than half convinced that his ex=partner was just spouting bullshit to mess with him), Chuuya was going to get as much out of him as possible.

“Something.”

“Feel like giving specifics?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I figure it out.”

“Yeah right.”

That gaze was still unnerving but he forced himself to ignore it. He’d worked with Dazai for three years and, even if it had been four since they’d last done so, he still remembered this. Act normal. Depending on his mood, he’ll pull himself out of soon enough. (Yet another reason Chuuya was sure that, had Dazai not been in the Port Mafia, he would have been ordered by someone to see a goddamn therapist a long time ago).

“I only really noticed after I met Atsushi.”

“The tiger brat?”

“The very same.” There was a smile creeping back into the corners of Dazai’s mouth, his eyes gaining warmth that had been absent and Chuuya felt a surge of...something...in his chest. So those Agency brats could get Dazai to show emotion (genuine from what he could tell) after about a year while Chuuya had known Dazai for three, nearly four, and hadn’t managed to elicit anything other than taunting, annoyance and the urge to set a bomb under his car?

Fan-fucking-tactic.

“Then why aren’t you bothering him?” He succeeded in keeping the bitterness from his voice, barely, and forced himself to relax again now that those dead eyes were no longer directed at him. Fuck; he hated that look.

“Atsushi’s not the one lying in a bed with a fever.”

“Funny thing, neither would I if you hadn’t left me in a fucking field.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

They were going in circles, their conversation going nowhere. Or, at least, that’s how it felt to Chuuya. It felt like he’d take a few steps forward but then Dazai would say something and there’d they’d be, right back to where they started; the fact that Dazai had broken into Chuuya’s flat while he was unconscious after leaving him, exhausted and alone.

“Give me one good reason why I should trust you.”

“...and if I can’t think of one?”

“Then congratulations; that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me in the last seven years.”

“Will Chuuya eat now?”

“You’re not going to go away until I do, are you?”

“Like I said; I’m not leaving til Chibi’s well enough to throw me out himself.”

“Fucking...fine.”

Dazai blinked down at him, surprise flashing accross his features before it was once again masked behind that pleasant, charming smile he so often liked to wear.

“If it’ll make you leave sooner, fine. I’m too sick to deal with your bullshit. If it’s poisoned, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your shitty life.”

“Whatever Chibi says.”

“Shut up and help me sit up. I’m not lying here while you spoon feed me like an infant.”

“But Chibi’s as small as-“

“Finish that sentence and I will maim you”

Dazai once again set the bowl to the side and, far more carefully than Chuuya would expect from the bandaged bastard, helped me into a semi-sitting position, back pressed against the mountain of pillows Chuuya insisted on keeping on his bed. Chuuya was sure to keep his movements slow so as not to aggravate his injuries or spark another bout of dizziness.

“Why does Chuuya have so many pillows?”

“Why are you so interested?”

“No reason, just curious.”

“I’ll believe your ‘just curious’ line when you go a week without getting slapped.”

“It’s day six, I’m sure I can manage.”

“Sure you can.”

“Want to bet on it?”

“Right now, fuck no.”

“Chuuya’s no fun when he’s ill.”

Chuuya didn’t dignify that with a response, merely gesturing for Dazai to hand him the bowl. Dazai seemed hesitant but Chuuya’s glare intensified and he gave a put upon sigh, as if he was the one being inconvenienced in this situation, before handing the bowl over.

Chuuya propped it in his lap carefully, making sure there was no chance of him accidentally tipping it over, before taking his first spoonful of the bouillabaisse. He closed his eyes as the taste hit his tongue. It had been a while since he’d managed to visit the cafe and this was, admittedly, just what he needed.

Movement drew his attention and, as he turned his head, he noticed Dazai hopping off the bed and heading towards the door. Suspicious of what he was doing but not being able to follow, Chuuya returned his attention to the bowl in his lap and continued to eat.

It was as he was finishing (he stil had about a third of the bowl left but he couldn’t make himself eat any more) that Dazai returned, two slightly steaming mugs in his hands. Chuuya couldn’t stop himself raising an eyebrow when he realised exactly what was inside them.

“Really?”

“Chibi kept it in the same place.”

“The minute you go, I’m changing the locks.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t anyway.”

“I forgot you had a key. Trust me, I will.”

Dazai made no comment, simply taking the bowl away and replacing it with the steaming mug of chamomile and spiced apple tea he’d procured from Chuuya’s kitchen.

The scent, like that of the bouillabaisse, was familiar, calming and made Chuuya relax further into the pillows. Breathing in the fragrant steam, he could almost pretend that the aches and pains were non-existent, that he wasn’t still overly-warm and uncomfortable from fever and that Dazai, bandaged bastard that he was, actually gave a damn rather than this pretence he was putting up for some unknown reason.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he murmured, tone soft as he took his first sip. The warmth traveled down his throat and settled in his stomach, pleasant rather than the uncomfortable warmth he felt everywhere else.

“...I know.”

“Then why bother?”

“Because…” Dazai paused but Chuuya didn’t look at him, didn’t want to see what emotions were passing over his face. He couldn’t trust that anything he saw was real. “Because I’ve changed and, the other night, I acted like I would have four years ago and...I didn’t like it.”

There it was. This wasn't about Chuuya at all. It was about Dazai feeling guilty that he’d not stuck to whatever precious morals he’d managed to scrape together over the past few years.

“And,” Dazai continued, capturing Chuuya’s attention before his thoughts could primal any further downwards. “I realised I should’ve been a better partner and taken you to the extraction point.”

As if he was going to believe that horseshit.

“So you think taking care of me now makes up for it?”

“No,” Dazai admitted and Chuuya was tempted to turn, to see what affected emotion was on that face but he resisted, keeping his eyes closed and breathing in the sweet scent of his tea. “But I’m hoping Chuuya wil find it in him to give me a chance to do better next time.”

“And what if, next time, you just say fuck it and don’t stop me?”

Because, as much as he’d cursed Dazai after waking up and dragging himself to Mori’s office, as much as he’d ranted and raved about how he should have known better than to trust the bastard to do what he’d asked...he’d still held out some shred of hope that Dazai would do what he’d said. When they were partners, Dazai had occasionally taken off after Chuuya had used Corruption but, in those circumstances, there were almost always other members of the Port Mafia around (typically Hirotsu) who would make sure he got back safe. This time, it had just been them so his only option afterwards had been Dazai.

And Dazai had abandoned him there.

It wasn’t a big step from ‘not taking me somewhere safe after using Corruption’ to ‘not stopping me when I use Corruption’.

“That won’t happen.”

And Chuuya had to look at him, had to see his expression because what the hell?

Dazai’s tone nad been sharp, almost commanding. As he met that amber, steely gaze, Chuuya felt something in him react (though what it was, he couldn’t be sure). Dazai’s eyes were determined, focused on Chuuya like he was the only thing that mattered in that moment. He couldn’t remember a look like that ever being directed at him before.

“And why’s that?” The words left him almost involuntarily, tone not quite biting as he locked gazes with Dazai, willing himself to see through whatever act teh bastard might put up, ready to focus on any microexpression that might slip through the cracks.

“Chibi’s not allowed to die.”

“What’s it to you if I die or not? Newsflash; you’re the one that left, not me.”

“Chibi’s not allowed to die,” Dazai repeated, as if by saying it again he could make Chuuya accept it. Not happening - he was sick, not oblivious.

“Why do you suddenly care?”

“Chibi wouldn’t believe me if I told him.”

“Try me.”

“Chibi’s pretty when he’s angry.”

That statement caused Chuuya to nearly spill hot tea over himself as he stared, incredulous at Dazai who was now deliberately not looking at him.

What. The. Fuck.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I told you.”

How the hell was he meant to react to that?

“I have no idea how to respond to that statement and, right now, part of me is sure you’re just a hallucination brought on by fever.”

Dazai let out a small chuckle at that statement, turning to look at Chuuya again. That warmth that had been in his eyes when he’d talked about Atsushi was...directed at him. When had this happened? How was he supposed to react to this? Was this really Dazai Osamu? It didn’t seem likely but…

...but an imposter wouldn’t have known about his favourite food when he was ill, wouldn’t have reacted when he brought up that particular event in March five years ago, wouldn’t have teased him quite so much if they were trying to get into his good graces. There was too much that was so purely Dazai that the only conclusion he could come to was that he was, in fact, speaking with the real him.

And that thought was mildly terrifying because…

Dazai Osamu told him, to his face, that he was pretty.

“You know, you don’t have to say anything,’ Dazai commented, that stupid, warm expression still in his eyes and the corners of his mout turned up in a small smile that looked far more genuine than anything Chuuya could remember seeing during their three years together. “”But you asked so…” He shrugged, as if he didn’t really care whether Chuuya responded or not.

“You expect me not to say something after that?”

Dazai shruged again, as if he couldn’t care less what Chuuya had to say.

“So, what does Chibi have to say?”

...that was a good question and, unfortunately, it wasn’t one he had an answer to. This...was never something he thought he’d ever have to deal with. Dazai had never, to Chuuya’s knowledge, admitted an attraction to another male. And for said male to be Chuuya of all people…

“When, exactly, did you…?” How did he even finish the question?

“Yesterday,” Dazai admitted.

“...and how did you come to this realisation?”

Keep talking, keep asking questions. Maybe it would start to make sense if he just kept asking questions.

This time, Dazai didn’t answer and Chuuya felt a surge of annoyance. Dazai had been surprisingly forthright so far but he’d known that, at some point, he’d clam up and stop answering.

“I...think I’d prefer to tell you that some other time.”

Wait, what? Dazai wasn’t refusing to answer the question, just refusing to answer it now?

“So…” Chuuya began, eyes narrowed as he put the pieces together. “You break into my flat, bring me food, say you’re going to look after me until I feel well enough to kick your bandaged ass out and now you’re saying you think I’m pretty (which you only realised yesterday!) but you’re not giving me a reason why you suddenly think this even though I know you’ve only ever been attracted to women?”

Dazai shrugged again, the motion easy and careless. Chuuya let himself flop back against his pillow mountain, lifting an arm to cover his face so he wouldn’t have to look at the bandaged bastard, not caring at the uncomfortable sensations from the bruises as he did so.

“You’re really something, you know that?”

“Is that a good thing?”

Chuuya didn’t dignify that with a response, just kept his arm over his eyes and tried to proces the last few minutes of their conversation.

“This still doesn’t change anything,.”

“I know.”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to give me another chance.”

“And if I don’t?”

Dazai didn’t reply for a while and Chuuya was, once again, tempted to look at him but resolutely did not. He did lower his arm but kept his eyes closed. He lifted the mug of cooling tea to his lips again and finished it off in a few small sips. Wordlessly, Dazai took it from his hand and he heard it being set down on the nightstand.

“Then you don’t.”

“Just like that?‘

“Just like that.”

“You’re not going to try some stupid shit to win me over?”

“Would it work?”

That...was a fair point. Chuuya knew Dazai’s tricks, had seen them used often enough that he could practically recite them word for word, rehearsed gesture for rehearsed gestures. If Dazai tried any of his normal shit with Chuuya, he’d know and kick the bastard’s ass for it. The fact that Dazai had acknowledged that, had admitted that his normal methods wouldn’t work on him...

“And besides,’ Dazai continued. “Why would I trick you into something like this/‘

“Because it would amuse you. You’d find this sort of shit funny: don’t even bother denying it.”

“Maybe,” Dazai admitted. “But I’ve decided that if anything happens, I don’t want it to be because I tricked you into it.”

Chuuya was once again having doubts that this was, in fact, the real Dazai Osamu.

“Just ...think it over. I’m not expecting an answer any time soon.”

‘And if you never get one?”

“Then I’ll just have to live in hope that I’ll get one one day, won’t I?”

With that, Dazai once again left the room, taking the dirty cups and bowl with him. Chuuya was left alone with his thoughts which were currently roiling, unable to concentrate on any one thing for longer than a. Few seconds before soemthing else captured his attention.

He did’t know how to feel, didn’t know how to react. This was no t something he had ever considered a possibility under any circumstance and, now that he was fed and relatively comfortable, he didn’t really want to think about it. As quickly as his mind was flitting from subject to subject, he could feel it also beginning to slow as his body decided that, having been awake for a decent amount of time, it was now time to return to unconsciousness so that his body could focus on healing itself.

Gingerly, he shuffled back under the covers so only his head was supported by the pillows and curled up on his side facing the door. He opened his eyes, watching for Dazai. His eyes were drooping however and, as he closed them, he was vaguely aware of the sensation of a hand running through his hair again as he drifted off to sleep.

———-

A few weeks later, head in Dazai’s lap and fingers once again stroking through his hair, Chuuya couldn’t help but think that, maybe, just maybe, it was worth giving Dazai that second chance.

#soukokuweek19 #Soukoku #Day 7 #free day #Nakahara Chuuya #Dazai Osamu #Dazai is an idiot #sfw #Chuuya needs a hug #bsd #bungou stray dogs #skk #dazai x chuuya #bungou stray dogs bsd #fanfiction #soukoku week #idiots in love

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angstytieflingbard · 5 years ago

Text

Platonic THB x Child!Paladin!Reader

Request: “[Taz anon] Could I request a Knight reader who everyone thinks is an adult, but one day they aren't wearing their armour and then they realize its a 14 year old human. They go from "oh cool a knight" to "who let this child here, they are a baby-". Then they prove that they aren't a child and in fact a knight under the protection of a god, by saving the main three. Just, More of the main three being dads Tbh. This time to an actual danger kid! Thank you for your time! (:”

Summary: You were, as far as you were concerned, one of the best paladins of your order, even despite your age. Unfortunately your friends and coworkers aren’t as confident in your abilities. Of course, this only fuels your drive to prove yourself, with nothing more than your warhammer, your armor, and your faith.

Warnings: Semi-Graphic depictions of Canon-Typical Violence, sort of.

A/N: Hey y’all! I’m so sorry this took a bit, I’m not gonna lie this was a bit of a rough one for me. I hope you like it though! Also, as a side note, the Paladin!Reader in this worships Bahamut, the dragon god of Law. His ideal so to speak is “Justice tempered with mercy, and punishment with forgiveness.” Anyway, as usual, if you’re reading this, and you like it or want to send me request either for TAZ or one of my other fandoms, shoot me an ask! My request rules/fandoms are in my bio. I hope you enjoy!

~~~~

The battle had been going pretty well, you thought. Most of your opponents were already dead, or at least out cold, and you were taking care of the remaining relatively easily. Unfortunately, as you were focused on one of the last gerblins in the cave, one you hadn’t noticed snuck up behind and struck you on the head with what felt like a club, knocking your helmet off as you hit the ground.

As you fell, you heard a shout, and in the blur of your vision you saw a large shape come barreling into view and take on the gerblins who’d brought you down in the first place. The battle was over shortly after, and you groaned as a cool, glowing hand pressed gently to your forehead, curing your wound and taking most of the pain and dizziness with it.

“Why didn’t you ever tell us you were a kid?” Magnus asked you. You were still on the ground, somewhat dazed as you sat amongst the remaining carnage of the battlefield, your helmet lying abandoned a few feet away where it had been knocked from straight off your head. You frowned at his question, defensive.

“It didn’t matter.” Was all you said, already gearing up to argue. Magnus narrowed his eyes at your tone, and Taako stepped in, helping you up off the ground.

“Magnus just means that he’s surprised. I mean, it’s not like a lot of kids can fight, you know?” Taako said, trying to ease the tension.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re a baby with a warhammer basically!” Merle added, and you sighed, detaching yourself from Taako to pick up your helmet and hammer, brushing the dirt off the helmet before returning it to your head.

“How did you even learn to fight?” Magnus asked you. You shrugged.

“I started training in the Order of Bahamut when I was really little. I just got good fast, is all.” You explained, ignoring the looks they gave each other.

“C’mon, we should get going.” You suggested, and the rest of the group hesitantly agreed, deciding to save the conversation for another time.

~~~

As it turned out, the time for more conversation never came, and instead they attempted to coddle you as sneakily as possible. Long after you joined the Bureau, they’d still keep you back or at the very least keep you out of fights, despite how you’d proven yourself even before they knew that you were a child.

The breaking point came at candlenights, when the emergency at Lucas’ lab occurred. You, after some convincing, managed to get onto the small team of regulators going ahead of the boys to the lab, along with Carey, Killian, and Boyland. You were practically vibrating in your seat the whole way there, excited to be on the field for once. To your surprise, you didn’t feel as vulnerable as you thought you would without your plated armor, though you could attribute that to knowing that the protective suit you had donned was designed to mimic heavy armor in its protectiveness and mobility, so you were certainly safer in it than your normal attire in the lab.

You and the other regulators had little difficulty with the crystal monstrosities themselves. No, it wasn’t the monsters that got you in the end, but carelessness, Boyland dying a fair ways into the mission when he took his helmet off to smoke by a window, and a stray piece of crystal from a felled monster hit his skin, turning him and the rest of the room into the same shimmering tourmaline you’d seen all over the lab so far.

You said a prayer for him, asking Bahamut to treat his soul mercifully. Carey and Killian took a moment to breathe as you said your prayer, though they tried not to dwell on Boyland. You had a mission, and so you continued.

You managed to find the boys just in time to see Merle’s crystallized arm being chopped off by a concerningly cheerful Magnus. You gasped, and Carey and Killian quickly pushed past you to start yelling.

“Yo, what the fuck! We leave you alone for like, five minutes, and you decide to chop Merle’s arm off?” Killian asked incredulously as Magnus sputtered for an explanation. Taako was no help, being that he was rolling on the floor, laughing to the point of tears. It was a robot who intervened, actually, somewhat small and floating with the use of what looked like miniature jets. The robot, Noel, as you learned, explained the situation, and you sighed as you moved to Merle’s side. They’d stopped the bleeding as fast as possible, but the old dwarf looked to be in a lot of pain, understandably.

“How ‘ya feeling, Merle?” You asked quietly. He looked up at you in surprise, as though just noticing you.

“(Y/N)? Why are you here?” He asked, confusion pushing past the pain for a moment. You simply shushed him, and put a hand up to the stump that used to be his arm. You took a moment to focus your energy, and poured it into one of the most useful paladin skills you’d ever learned; ‘Lay On Hands.’ Merle sighed, feeling some of the pain recede.

“It can’t heal it in any meaningful way,” You explained softly, “But it’s basically paladin first aid. It’ll keep you moving until we get you somewhere you can actually be treated.” Merle sniffled in a way you knew was exaggerated.

“Thanks, kid. You’re a real pal.” He told you, and you chuckled.

“Thank me by not dying, old man.” You said, standing up. You took a glance over the now somewhat calmed scene around you, and met Taako’s gaze as he stared you down in no small amount of concern.

“You good?” He asked you as you approached.

“I’m fine. Practically unscathed, actually. Boyland got caught by a crystal when he took a smoke break, though.” You told him quietly. He nodded somberly, then gave you a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re doing good. We should probably get the rest of those lazies moving, huh kiddo?” You laughed softly and nodded, giving him a hand up from his place on the floor, and got back to work.

~~~

“This is hell!” You called to your comrades.

“Language, kid!” Magnus called back, right before swinging his axe straight into a robots head. You scoffed, smashing some amalgamate robot-crystal monster with your hammer.

“You let Angus curse, dad.” You argued, and he laughed.

“Maybe focus on the battle, please?” Killian shouted. She pushed an enemy away from her, unfortunately making it crash right into Taako, who stumbled into another with a yelp. You groaned and dashed forward, your hammer connecting with one of the robots on Taako with a clang that made both you and the wizard wince, but thankfully knocked it off.

“Thanks!” Taako exclaimed, and you nodded, pushing past a newly stabilized Taako to bring your hammer up into a block. The robots arm came down hard, and you felt the handle of your hammer crack under the force. You growled, trying to resist as it pushed against you. You heard Taako frantically readying a spell behind you, and you sucked in a breath, getting ready to try and pull back out of the way for him.

However, before either of you could do that, you felt a strange power fill you, starting from where you still gripped the warhammer tightly, and spreading throughout your body rapidly. For a moment, you felt strong, strong enough to fully push the robot back, pull the hammer back, and then swing it hard into the robots head. It crumpled, and you turned to Taako, who stared at you in shock, magic missiles still swirling around the tip of his umbrella, ready to fire.

“What?” You asked, perturbed by his gaze. You glanced down at the handle of your hammer, blinking as you realized the crack that the robot had caused with the force of his attack had somehow healed, no longer visible anywhere in the hardwood surface. The others were just about finished with the remaining robots, the area having cleared surprisingly quickly with all of you working together. The magic missiles dissipated from the tip of the umbrella as Taako relaxed some, focused more on you than the stragglers in the room.

“You were glowing for a second there, kid.” He told you, still a little incredulous. You looked at him in equal surprise at his words.

“I glowed?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Huh. Maybe… Maybe Bahamut decided to take pity on me.” You chuckled, resituating your hammer in your grip, a nervous habit.

“Seemed like a lot more than pity, kiddo.” You shrugged.

“I’m not gonna look a gift dragon in the mouth.” You said. You suddenly felt tired, as though whatever strength you’d been momentarily granted had sapped out the rest of your energy as it left you. Taako chuckled, and nodded sympathetically, noticing your sudden tiredness.

“Next up is whatever’s causing this, I think. Killian said y’all couldn’t stay for us taking the Grand Relic, so you should probably head back with them and Klarg’s family.” Taako told you, gently pulling you by the arm to where the others were taking a breather post-battle.

It didn’t take long for everyone to be ready to head out, the boys in the direction of the Grand Relic, and you, Carey, and Killian off to grab Klarg’s family and head back to the shuttle. You looked over your shoulder as you walked, using your hammer as a walking staff, and called out.

“Hey, make sure you kick their asses for me, yeah?”

Taako and Merle responded at the same time, both calling back “Yeah, of course kid!” At almost the exact same time. The wizard grinned at the coincidence, nudging the dwarf.

“Language, kid!” Magnus shouted, only half-joking. You laughed, some of your worry for your friends receding at their confidence.

Whatever else happened, you knew they’d come back. And for you, that was enough.

#taz #the adventure zone #taako #taako from tv #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #req #requests #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #now its time for me to sleep for 900000000 years lmaooo

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