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darlingdreadwrites · 2 months ago

Note

I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D

I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?

They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D

I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.

contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put

warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!

The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.

You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared.

The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.

You’re not going to let yourself die.

Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.

You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.

His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.

He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.

You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.

Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure.

Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.

You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.

Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.

Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.

He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.

No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.

His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.

You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--

Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.

You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.

The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.

With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.

The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?

While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.

Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.

The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.

His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.

You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.

You astonished him.

So, what’ll you do now?

#ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x female reader #tobias erin rogers #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta fanfiction #fanfiction #creepypasta x reader #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #female y/n #reader insert #creepypasta ticci toby #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #final girl

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three--rings · 10 months ago

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One of the largest projects I've been working on is this typeset and book version of 999: 9 Hours, 9 Persons, 9 Doors, one of my very favorite video games. (Which later became the first game in the Zero Escape franchise.)

The game is a visual novel and escape room game combo with multiple routes and endings leading to a true ending. So this version is structured like a Choose-your-own-Adventure book where you flip to different pages depending on your choices.

I also made it possible to skip all the less linear escape/puzzle sequences because they don't read very cohesively. But they do contain a lot of funny or revealing lines so I didn't want to eliminate them entirely.

I should also mention one of the reasons for doing this is that I wanted to preserve the original text of the game from the Nintendo DS version from 2010. When it was remastered/ported to PC and Switch a lot of the dialogue was rewritten very much for the worse. As well as making the novel sections optional, which destroys a lot of the point and atmosphere of the game.

The book is a full leather casebind, with stenciled titles. The leather was honestly a little too thick and required a lot of paring, which is terrifying because any slip could ruin it. And the final satin finish I put on made a lot of the leather flaws look worse and more obvious, which is annoying. It was my first time doing faux raised bands on the spine, and they came out nice.

My printer decided to fuck with me while printing this one and the color alignment is off. This is my second attempt at printing it and it's better than the first but still not great. But I wasn't gonna waste so much paper again.

And no, I'm not planning on doing the sequels. I can't imagine trying to deal with VLR's 28 endings when doing 6 was this challenging and annoying. And the sequels are perfectly represented by their existing playable versions, unlike 999.

#my fanbinding #binderary2024 #9 hours 9 persons 9 doors #999: 9 hours 9 persons 9 doors #zero escape

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dorabellingham · 2 months ago

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Number 5

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you both play for Real Madrid and you accidentally end up in the wrong locker room

request: yess!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

Real Madrid Training Center — Spain

You were known for being as talented as you were discreet. Among the stars of world football, you had earned your place not only because of your surname, but because of your own merits. Small in stature, but gigantic on the field, you shone with your ball control and tactical intelligence, surprising everyone with every match. You trained hard, overcoming barriers and prejudices, especially for being a woman playing in a football league.

It was a late afternoon like any other, with the sun already setting on the horizon and tinting the sky a soft orange. Training had been intense, and you were eager to take a shower and relax a little. Still, your mind couldn't help but think about him. Jude Bellingham. The player you shared the team with, the same number on jersey — and, in a way, the same dreams. Although you had never openly spoken about your feelings for each other, the atmosphere between you had always been charged with something more.

Jude was charismatic, talented and, to you, dangerously attractive. You could feel his gaze on you at the most unexpected moments, like when you dribbled past an opponent or when you celebrated a goal. There was a bond there, a silent connection that you tried, without much success, to ignore. The problem was that this closeness was always on the verge of exploding into something more, something that both of you seemed hesitant to allow.

The training session that day had been particularly intense, and the feeling of adrenaline was still running through your veins when the final whistle blew. Tired, but with your head full of thoughts, you walked to the locker rooms, lost in your own thoughts about the game and, of course, about Jude.

That's when it happened.

Still a little distracted, you entered the wrong locker room. You didn't realize it right away, because you were familiar with the space, since the structure of the stadium was practically identical in both locker rooms. Your eyes scanned the room as you headed to the lockers, getting ready to take off your boots. Everything seemed normal... until your eyes caught a movement in the corner.

And there he was.

Shirtless, his bare back turned to the door as he took off the rest of his uniform. His tanned skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat that hadn't yet dried, and the muscles in his back moved perfectly with every movement he made. The sound of his boots hitting the floor echoed through the empty room, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You froze. Your heart, which was already racing from training, began to beat even faster, this time for a completely different reason.

You knew you should say something, that you should make some noise so he would notice you, or even that you should get out of there as quickly as possible. But you just couldn't. It was as if time had stopped, and your feet were stuck to the ground. A part of you wanted to look away, but another... you couldn't. You had never seen him like this before. So vulnerable, so natural. Jude, usually confident and full of energy, seemed almost... calm. And that mesmerized you.

You tried to take a deep breath, but it was at that exact moment that he turned around. For a split second, the shock of being caught by you seemed to take over his eyes, but then, when he realized who was there, Bellingham smiled. Not a nervous or embarrassed smile, but one of those charming and almost challenging smiles he used to give you when he wanted to play with you.

—Y/n? —His deep voice sounded through the empty locker room, and the way he called you made your body shiver. —Did you go into the wrong locker room?

You finally found your voice, although it was still a little shaky.

—I... I think so. Sorry.

You felt your cheeks heat up, trying to look away, but your eyes insisted on returning to him.

Jude quickly grabbed a towel, throwing it over his shoulders, but still without putting on his shirt, clearly not as bothered as you were.

—No need to apologize. —He replied, still smiling in that provocative way. —But it's funny... I always knew you wanted to see me, but I didn't expect it to be like this.

Your eyes widened at the blatant joke.

—You’re an idiot!

You said, trying to sound angry, but unable to hide the nervous smile that formed on your lips.

He took a step towards you, slowly, as if measuring the impact of each movement. You tried to back away, but the closet was right behind you, preventing any attempt to escape. Jude, still unhurried, stopped a few inches away from your small body compared to his. The heat radiating from his body seemed to invade yours, and for a moment, you were sure he could hear your heart beating.

—What's wrong, Y/n? Are you going to run away now? —He teased, lowering his head a little to meet your eyes. —We're always so direct on the field... I thought it was like that off it too.

You swallowed hard, unable to take your eyes off his smile.

—I'm not running away. I just... I didn't expect to see you like this.

—Like what?

Jude arched an eyebrow, his smile widening even more.

You felt the words escape your mind completely. There was no simple answer. Because, in fact, seeing him like this —without defenses, without the barrier of the uniform and the player's posture— was something new. He seemed even closer, more real, and this closeness disoriented you.

—Like this... without your barriers.

You finally managed to say, your voice coming out low, but full of sincerity.

For a moment, his smile wavered. He watched you closely, as if trying to understand the depth of the words you had just said. And then, to your surprise, he took another step forward, completely invading your space.

—I never had any barriers with you. — Jude murmured, now very close. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. —Since day one.

The world around you seemed to disappear. It was as if, at that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you. You found yourself trapped between the locker and the young player, and as much as part of your mind screamed to get out of there, your body wouldn’t obey. Something bigger kept you in place, something that had been stuck between you for too long.

—Jude…

You began, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. You couldn’t form a clear line of reasoning with him so close.

He, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he wanted. Without breaking eye contact, Bellingham raised his hand and lightly touched your face, his fingers running along the line of your jaw to your chin. The touch was soft, but at the same time, electrifying.

—I thought you knew... —He said softly, leaning in even closer. —It’s always been you.

Your heart felt like it was going to explode. There was something about Jude that had always attracted you, something that went beyond the physical, beyond the talent. He had an intensity, a passion, and now, with him so close, you felt like you couldn’t run away from it anymore. You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to process everything that was happening, but then… You gave in. With a quick movement, as if your body had finally decided to act on its own, you leaned forward and kissed him. The touch of your lips was like an explosion, and everything that had been bottled up between you for months, maybe years, came to the surface all at once. The kiss was deep, full of desire and, above all, of the connection that you both tried to hide for so long. He responded with the same intensity, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. You felt his body, strong and warm, pressed against yours, and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was where you wanted to be. There was no denying it anymore.

When you finally separated, both of you panting, you looked at him, your eyes still wide with the intensity of the moment. Jude smiled, this time softer, but still with that mischievous glint.

—That explains why you went into the wrong locker room.

He said, teasing you once more.

You laughed, still breathless.

—Maybe I did it on purpose.

And there, between laughs and sighs, you knew that, after that day, nothing would ever be the same again.

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stylesispunk · 5 months ago

Text

Blades of Fate

marcus Acacius x f!reader / lucius x f!reader

Summary: Lucius and you are celebrated champions of the arena, each with their own unique force. Marcus Acacius returning from a victorious campaign, attends a grand gladiatorial event where he witnesses your bravery firsthand and something about you captivates him.

w.c: 4,4k

warnings: messy writing, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of violence, and mentions of arranged marriage, tension

a/n: okay, I had two days off from work and I still have post london depression, but I finally wrote something and I had no idea what the plot of this was or is, but I was dying for writing something about this two characters and I out them both here. Okay I have no idea what plot gladiator II will follow so this is the only thing that came to my mind. Perhaps some events or details of the story will not fit with the history events of the Roman empire and gladiators, but still this is just for fun. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. I hope you like it and have fun reading 💌.

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

The sun hung high in the Roman sky, casting golden rays over the Colosseum's colossal structure. The massive stone amphitheater, a testament to Roman engineering and grandeur, was alive with the roar of the crowd. Citizens from all walks of life, from the lowly plebeians to the esteemed senators, filled the seats, their cheers and shouts blending into a symphony of anticipation.

The blood of past battles stained the sand in the heart of the arena, a silent witness to the countless lives lost for entertainment. Today, the atmosphere was electric with excitement, for the arena was set to witness a spectacle unlike any other. The gates on either end of the battleground creaked open, and out stepped two of Rome's most revered gladiators.

Lucius, tall and muscular, with a presence that commanded respect, raised his sword to the cheering masses. His sharp and focused eyes scanned the crowd before settling on his partner. You, a gladiatrix of unparalleled skill, moved with a grace that belied the brutality of your fate, matching the rage of your lover. Your lithe form was clad in leather armor, and your hair was braided back to reveal a face marked by determination and a fierce will to survive.

Seeing a woman fight wasn’t something common, but you had won your respect and reputation, and besides Lucius, you had become nothing but stronger, a team, as the two champions you were destined to be.

A hush fell over the Colosseum. The only sound was the distant call of a hawk, circling high above, as if it too were a spectator. Then, with a sudden crash, the gates on the opposite end burst open, and their opponents emerged—a team of seasoned warriors, each one a formidable foe.

The only sound was the distant call of a hawk, circling high above, as if it too were a spectator. Then, with a sudden crash, the gates on the opposite end burst open, and their opponents emerged—a team of seasoned warriors, each one a formidable foe, determined to bring down the beloved gladiators.

The battle began with a clash of steel and a flurry of movement. Lucius and you fought with seamless coordination; your movements synchronized as if you were one entity. Lucius's strength and brute force were complemented perfectly by your agility and precision. The two of you moved through your opponents like a tempest, leaving a trail of fallen adversaries in your wake.

High above, in the VIP stands, General Marcus Acacius watched intently. His stern face, weathered by years of warfare and command, betrayed no emotion. Known for his ruthless efficiency and strategic brilliance, Marcus had seen countless battles, but there was something about these two gladiators that intrigued him. Your skill was undeniable, but it was your unspoken bond, your mutual trust and respect, that caught his attention.

As the last of your opponent’s fell, the crowd erupted in deafening applause. Lucius and you stood victorious, your chests heaving from exertion, but your eyes were sharp and alert. You raised your weapons in salute to the crowd and then, as one, turned your gaze towards Marcus.

From his seat, Marcus leaned forward slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Arrange for a private meeting," he instructed his aide, his voice carrying the weight of command. "I want to see if their skills match their reputation."

The aide nodded and hurried off, while Marcus's gaze remained fixed on the two of you. There was something about you both—a spark that he couldn't quite place. He intended to find out what it was and how it could serve his own purposes.

As you and Lucius exited the arena, you exchanged a smile. Another victory, another day of survival in a world you didn’t choose but were destined to be part of. You reached out, gently touching his arm. “We are a team,” you said, trying to convince yourself that the love you had for him was bigger than the exhaustion you felt.

Lucius looked down at your hand on his arm, then back at you. “Yes, Dulcissima,” he said softly. He closed his eyes; there was a sort of pain evident on his face. “But I want us to be free from all of this," he admitted.

He opened his eyes, searching for yours once more. The anger had faded, replaced by a deep sorrow. "Dulcissima,” the nickname, slipped from his lips once again. “I want us to get married, and I want to make you happy.”

You stared at him in disbelief, the weight of his words sinking in. “Lucius,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions.

Lucius took your hand in his; his grip was firm yet tender. "I’ve been thinking about this for a long time," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every time we step into that arena, I fear it might be our last. I don’t want to lose you, not without having truly lived with you."

Your heart ached at his words. You had always known the dangers of your life as a gladiatrix, but hearing Lucius speak so openly about his fears brought a new depth to your own anxieties. "I want that too, Lucius," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "But how can we ever be free?"

Lucius's eyes darkened with determination. "We’ll find a way. There has to be more to life than this constant struggle. We’ll fight for our freedom together."

Before you could respond, a group of soldiers approached, their stern faces in stark contrast to the celebration that surrounded you. The leader, a tall centurion with a scar running down his cheek, addressed you both. "General Marcus Acacius has requested your presence for a private meeting. Follow us."

You and Lucius exchanged a quick glance, both sensing the gravity of the situation. With a nod, you followed the soldiers through the winding corridors of the Colosseum, your minds racing with thoughts of what the general might want.

The soldiers led you to a grand chamber within the Colosseum, its walls adorned with intricate tapestries and bronze statues of Rome’s greatest heroes. General Marcus Acacius stood near a large table, studying a map spread out before him. As you entered, he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours with keen intensity.

"Welcome," Marcus said, his voice smooth and commanding. "I wanted to speak with you both personally. Your performance in the arena today was nothing short of extraordinary."

"Thank you, General," Lucius replied, his tone respectful but guarded.

Marcus nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. "And honor Rome you have. But I sense that there’s more to your partnership than just skill and survival. There’s a deeper connection, one that could be of great use."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. "What do you mean, General?" you asked cautiously.

Marcus leaned forward, his eyes piercing. "I’m offering you an opportunity—a chance to fight for something greater than yourselves. To serve Rome in a way that could ultimately lead to your freedom."

Lucius’s grip on your hand tightened slightly. "We’re listening," he said, his voice steady.

Marcus gestured to the map on the table. "Rome is expanding, but with that expansion comes the need for strong, capable leaders. I believe the two of you could be valuable assets in securing our borders and maintaining order. Prove yourselves in the upcoming challenge, and I’ll ensure that your skills are recognized. There could be a future for you beyond the arena, one where you have a say in your own destiny." He paused. "However," he continued, a glint of challenge in his eyes, "I propose a new test of their mettle. A special event, where our gladiatrix will face my finest soldiers in a mock battle."

A murmur of excitement rippled through the hall. You felt a surge of determination at the general's words. This was more than a mere challenge; it was an opportunity to prove yourself further in the eyes of Rome and its most powerful figures.

You stepped forward, your voice clear and resolute. "I accept your challenge, General. I will show you and all of Rome what a true gladiator is capable of."

Marcus nodded, a satisfied smile on his lips. "Very well. The event will be held in two days' time. May the gods favor the brave."

Lucius, standing beside you, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We’ve faced worse," he whispered. "You’ll show them all."

Your heart raced at the prospect. Could this be the chance you and Lucius have been longing for? Is there a way to escape the bloodshed and find a life together, free from the chains of the Colosseum?

"We’ll do it," you said firmly, meeting Marcus’s gaze with unwavering resolve. "We’ll prove ourselves."

Marcus’s smile widened; satisfaction was evident in his eyes. "Good. The challenge will take place in two days. Prepare yourselves, and may the gods be with you."

As the banquet continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this challenge was more than just a test of skill. It was a pivotal moment, one that could alter the course of your life and your bond with Lucius. And in the shadows, the ever-watchful eyes of Marcus Acacius followed your every move, already plotting the next step in his intricate game.

The next two days were a blur of intense preparation. You and Lucius trained tirelessly, refining your techniques and strategizing for the upcoming mock battle. The anticipation in the air was palpable, both among the gladiators and the spectators who eagerly awaited the spectacle.

On the morning of the event, the Colosseum was packed with spectators, their cheers echoing through the grand structure. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the excitement of the unknown. This was no ordinary battle; it was a test that would determine your fate and perhaps even reshape your destiny.

Marcus stood on a platform overlooking the arena, his presence commanding respect. He raised his hand, signaling for silence. "Today, we witness a display of courage, skill, and determination," he announced, his voice carrying across the Colosseum. "Our gladiatrix will face my finest soldiers in a test of strength and strategy. Let the battle begin!"

The gates creaked open, and you stepped into the arena, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and adrenaline. Across from you stood Marcus’s elite soldiers, their expressions hard and focused. You glanced at Lucius, who stood at the edge of the arena, his eyes locked onto yours with unwavering support.

"Together," you whispered to yourself, drawing strength from the bond you shared with Lucius.

The clash of steel rang out as the battle commenced, a whirlwind of movement and noise. You moved with a grace and ferocity that left your opponents reeling; your every strike was precise and powerful. Despite the odds, you fought with everything you had, driven by the desire for freedom and a future with Lucius.

As the battle raged on, you felt a surge of energy, pushing yourself beyond your limits. You danced around your opponents, using your agility and speed to outmaneuver them. The crowd's cheers grew louder with each successful strike, their excitement fueling your resolve.

Finally, as the last soldier fell, a hush descended over the arena. You stood victorious, your chest heaving, your body bruised and battered but unbroken. The crowd erupted in applause; their cheers were a testament to your triumph.

Marcus descended from the platform, his eyes filled with admiration and something else—something deeper. "You have proven yourself today," he said, his voice carrying a note of respect. "Your skills and determination are unmatched. You are a true warrior."

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "Thank you, General," you replied, your voice steady despite the exhaustion.

Lucius rushed to your side, his eyes filled with pride and relief. "You did it," he whispered, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I knew you would."

As you stood there, basking in the glow of victory, Marcus stepped closer, his gaze intense. "There is more to this than just a test of skill," he said quietly. "I see potential in you—a potential that could change the course of our future."

You looked at him, curiosity and apprehension swirling within you. "What do you mean?"

Marcus smiled a hint of mystery in his eyes. "All in due time. For now, rest and recover. We will speak again soon."

In the days that followed, you and Lucius were treated with newfound respect and admiration. The other gladiators looked up to you, and the soldiers who had once seen you as mere entertainment now saw you as formidable warriors. Yet, despite the praise and the promise of a brighter future, a sense of unease lingered in the air.

One evening, as you were returning to your quarters after another grueling day of training, a sudden commotion caught your attention. The sound of clashing steel and muffled shouts echoed through the corridors. You hurried towards the source of the disturbance, your heart pounding with a sense of impending danger.

As you rounded a corner, you were met with a chilling sight. Lucius was engaged in a fierce battle with a group of unknown assailants. His movements were swift and deadly, but he was outnumbered. Without a second thought, you drew your weapon and rushed to his aid, your determination burning brighter than ever.

Despite your best efforts, the sheer number of attackers overwhelmed you. You fought valiantly, but the odds were stacked against you. A sharp pain exploded in your side as one of the assailants landed a brutal blow, and you fell to your knees, your vision blurring.

Lucius's voice echoed in your ears, filled with desperation. "No! Leave her alone!" But his cries were in vain. The attackers overpowered him, and as darkness closed in, you felt yourself being dragged away.

When you awoke, you found yourself in a dimly lit cell, your hands bound with a rough rope. The cold stone walls pressed in around you, and the air was thick with the scent of dampness and decay. You struggled against your restraints, but they held firm.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each passing second. The door to your cell creaked open, and Marcus stepped inside, his expression unreadable.

"You’re awake," he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of regret.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice hoarse. "Why did you do this?"

Marcus sighed, his eyes dark with emotion. "It wasn’t supposed to be like this," he said, stepping closer. "But there are forces at play here that even I cannot control. I had to act quickly to protect you."

"Protect me?" You spat, your anger flaring. "By taking me hostage?"

He knelt beside you, his gaze earnest. "Yes," he said softly. "There are those who see you as a threat and who would stop at nothing to eliminate you. I couldn’t let that happen. This was the only way to keep you safe."

You stared at him, your mind racing. "And what about Lucius? What have you done to him?"

Marcus’s expression tightened. "He’s unharmed for now. But there are conditions. You must stay here, cooperate with me, and in return, he will be spared."

Your heart ached with the weight of his words. The future you had envisioned with Lucius seemed to slip further away with each passing moment. "What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"I want you to trust me," Marcus said, his tone sincere. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I need you to believe that I’m doing this for the greater good. Together, we can change the course of history."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. Instead, you found only a deep, unyielding resolve. Despite your anger and fear, a part of you wanted to believe him and trust that he had your best interests at heart.

"I’ll cooperate," you said finally, your voice steady. "But if anything happens to Lucius, I swear I will make you pay."

Marcus nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "You have my word," he said. "Lucius will be safe.

The next evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the cell, Marcus arrived with a tray of food. He set it down on a small table and took a seat across from you. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You shrugged, picking at the food. "As well as one can feel in captivity," you replied, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

Marcus sighed. "I understand your frustration," he said. "But believe me, this is the only way to ensure your safety."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching for his. "And what about Lucius? How long do you intend to keep us apart?"

"Until it’s safe," he answered, his gaze unwavering. "There are those who would see you both dead. I need to neutralize that threat before I can reunite you."

You frowned, the weight of his words sinking in. "And how do I know I can trust you?"

“Because I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said, leaning forward towards you, his expression earnest. "I have given you my word. I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

“And Lucius,” you said.

“I don’t care about Lucius.” He confessed, “But if you ask me to protect him, I will.”

You recoiled slightly at Marcus's confession, his words echoing in your mind. "You don’t care about Lucius?" You repeated it, disbelief coloring your tone.

Marcus hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "Not in the same way I care about you," he admitted quietly. "But I understand how important he is to you. If protecting him means protecting you, then I will do it."

You took a deep breath, trying to process the storm of emotions swirling within you. Marcus’s honesty was unexpected, and it stirred something in you, something you could decipher.

"I appreciate your honesty," you said finally, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. "But my loyalty lies with Lucius. He’s... he’s a part of me."

Marcus nodded slowly, his expression somber. "I understand," he said softly.

You looked your gaze with his; an electric feeling passed through the both of you, but you ignored it, not wanting to commit treason towards Lucius.

“I don’t like this life, you know?” Marcus began, his voice carrying the weight of the weariness of years and sincerity. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze searching yours as if seeking understanding.

You nodded slowly, feeling a surge of empathy for the man before you, the man who seemed to be different from his strong exterior. "I can imagine," you replied softly. "The burden of command, the weight of decisions that affect so many lives..."

Marcus sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It’s not just that," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I’ve seen too much bloodshed, too much senseless violence. In these gladiatorial games, they glorify death while the people cheer on."

His words resonated deeply with you, stirring up memories of battles fought and lives lost in the name of entertainment. "I never wanted to be a fighter," you confessed quietly. "I wanted... I wanted a life of peace, of freedom."

Marcus’s gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "Yet here we are,” he murmured. “Bound by duty, by the expectations of others.”

You nodded, the weight of shared experience forging a fragile bond between you.

"I’ve spent my life in service to Rome, sacrificing countless lives for its glory. But lately, I find myself questioning the cost."

You nodded slowly, sensing the weight of his words. "I understand," you said quietly. "I’ve felt that way too, at times. I never wanted to be what I am now—to live and die by the sword. But I grew up with Lucius, and we shared the same resentment and anger at the hand life dealt me."

Marcus’s gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "We’re more alike than you realize," he murmured. ”

"I never imagined my life would turn out like this," you admitted, a pang of vulnerability in your voice. "But every battle, every victory—it’s shaped who I am."

Marcus reached across the table, his hand resting gently on yours. "You’re stronger than you know," he said earnestly. "And you deserve more than the chains of the Colosseum."

You met his gaze, seeing a depth of compassion and empathy that surprised you. "What about that?" you asked softly. "What do I deserve?"

“To be caressed and protected,” he replied, not taking his eyes from yours.

His words stirred something deep within you—a yearning for tenderness and safety amidst the chaos of your existence. "And you?" you pressed gently, your heart racing with uncertainty and anticipation.

Marcus’s expression softened further, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. "To find redemption," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "To make amends for the lives I’ve sacrificed.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his confession settling between you. "We both seek something more," you said softly, reaching to cover his hand with yours. "Perhaps we can find it."

The touch of your hands and the electricity were enough to make you guilty of sin.

"One of my men has uncovered a plot against you," Marcus confessed while holding your hand. "There are those who believe you and Lucius pose a threat to the stability of Rome. They’re planning an attack."

You drew in a sharp breath, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. "Who would want to harm us?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern and disbelief.

Marcus shook his head grimly. "Enemies within the Senate, rivals who see you as a symbol of defiance," he explained. "They fear the influence you hold over the people, over the rebels.”

You glanced at him, a mixture of fear and gratitude swirling within you. "What do I do?" you asked quietly, realizing the gravity of the situation.

Marcus’s gaze hardened, a flicker of determination crossing his features.

"What do you propose?" you asked, a sense of foreboding creeping over you.

Marcus took a deep breath, meeting your gaze with resolve. "An arranged marriage," he said quietly. "Between you and me."

You stared at him, stunned. "What?”

"Think about it," Marcus said, shifting closer. "As my wife, you would have the protection of my name and my position. It would make it much harder for our enemies to harm you. And it would give us the legitimacy and power we need to navigate the political landscape of Rome."

"But what about Lucius?" you demanded, your heart aching at the thought of betraying him.

"I would ensure his safety," Marcus promised. "He would be free, and you could see him. But we must present a united front to the world. This is the only way."

You turned away, struggling with your emotions. The thought of marrying Marcus, despite your growing bond, felt like a betrayal to Lucius. Yet, the logic of Marcus’s proposal was undeniable.

"Please, think about it," Marcus said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You spent the night wrestling with conflicting emotions, torn between loyalty to Lucius and the pragmatism of Marcus's proposal. As dawn broke, you found yourself standing before Marcus once more, a decision forming in your mind.

"I've thought about it," you began slowly, meeting Marcus's intense gaze with determination. "I... I agree."

Marcus's expression softened with relief, yet he remained composed. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice laced with concern for your well-being.

You nodded, steeling yourself against the ache in your heart. "Yes. It's the best way to protect both of us, and Lucius too. We need to do this."

A weight seemed to lift from Marcus's shoulders, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. "Thank you," he murmured, stepping closer to take your hands in his. "You won't regret this. I'll make sure to be the best husband.”

As Marcus took your hands in his, a sense of finality settled over you. The decision was made, driven by a combination of necessity and the undeniable connection you felt with him. Despite the pang of guilt for Lucius, you knew this was a path you had chosen for the safety and future stability it promised.

"I need you to know that my heart belongs to Lucius," you replied softly, meeting Marcus's earnest gaze. "But I’ll believe you’ll prove me right."

A faint smile touched Marcus's lips; relief and determination shone in his eyes. "We'll face this together," he said, his voice steady with conviction. "I'll ensure that you're protected and that we navigate these turbulent times with strength and unity."

Marcus nodded solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he listened to your heartfelt confession. "I understand," he replied softly, his voice tinged with both acceptance and a hint of sadness. "I will do everything in my power to earn your trust and respect."

You felt a surge of gratitude towards Marcus, appreciating his understanding despite the complex emotions involved. "Thank you," you murmured, squeezing his hands gently. "For being so understanding."

A sense of mutual respect and determination filled the space between you, a silent agreement to face the challenges ahead. Marcus's commitment to protect you and navigate the political intricacies of Rome gave you a measure of reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.

"We'll announce our intentions and make preparations," Marcus continued, his voice regaining its usual resolve. "Our marriage will be more than just a shield; it will be a symbol of unity and strength."

As you nodded in agreement, a sense of resolve settled within you. Despite your heart belonging to Lucius, you knew that this alliance with Marcus was necessary.

When Marcus left your side, you looked up at the sky, promising heaven and God that Lucius would be your only love, just as the weight of your decision settled in your chest—a blend of duty and sacrifice for a greater cause—for your freedom. Despite the practicality of your alliance with Marcus, your heart still yearned for Lucius, a truth you held onto in the quiet moments.

Unbeknownst to you, Marcus observed you from a distance, his gaze fixed on you with a newfound sense of purpose. As he watched you under the vast Roman sky, a resolve hardened within him. He had made a commitment to protect you, but now he harbored a deeper ambition—to win your heart.

#marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x y/n #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #general acacius x you #general acacius x reader #general acacius #pedro pascal #angst #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius #marcus acacius imagine #pedro pascal character fanfiction #lucius x f!reader #my writing

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foone · 2 years ago

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A good teleport should be barely noticeable. One moment, there's no one there, and the next moment, there is. No flashes of light, no sound, you could literally blink and miss it. You often don't even see them at first, because the human eye is watching for movement, and a well-done teleport has no movement, just an instant change of nothing becoming something. It's a subtle art, the kind practiced endlessly by magicians, and that goes doubly for anyone trained as a war wizard. You want to turn the tides of a battle with arcane powers, or slip an assault team in behind enemy lines, to decapitate (sometimes literally) the opposing force? You have to be discreet. You have to perfectly balance the spell so that your strike force can slip in unnoticed, with a bit of magical help, and teleportation is one of the trickiest kinds of magic to make unnoticeable. The universe doesn't like it when nothing becomes something, and vice versa. It tends to notice, and people around tend to notice as well. So there's really an art to a good teleportation spell, and you sometimes see the grand masters of the field give demonstrations before crowds of less experienced magicians, often to roaring applause.

This was not one of those teleportation spells. This was a C-, barely passing, "SEE ME AFTER CLASS" written on your homework type of teleportation. The kind you do when you don't have time to prepare, when you don't give a damn who notices your arrival, because the one thing that's of highest importance is that you Stop Being Here and start Being Somewhere Else. This teleportation spell would give anyone magically sensitive headaches for days, and you would have trouble missing the bright flash and deafening noise that accompanies a body's-worth of air having to get out of the way in an instant. If you could hear the fabric of space, it rang like a bell hit with a sledgehammer when that teleport happened. Light-years away there was probably some little green men confused at why their new gravity-wave-detector appears to have told them a black hole merger just happened on the surface of a habitable planet.

And through that cacophony of light and sound and gravity, there stepped a man. He was silent for only a moment, and then screamed in terror, almost equaling the sound that had come shortly before. He ran, his rationality giving out, managing to function only at the instinctive reaction of an animal that is on fire and needs to move, now.

Because it's one thing to know, intellectually, that there are planets out there where the evaporated water from lakes and oceans collects in the lower atmosphere, and somehow condenses into visible structures of suspended water droplets, which then sometimes comes crashing down to the ground. That makes sense, in the way that you can read about sex or skydiving but it can in no way compare to experiencing the real thing (and hopefully not at the same time). There's a huge difference between knowing that there are planets with precipitation, and being in the middle of a rainstorm, because your emergency teleport dropped you on the outskirts of Seattle in the middle of the wet season.

Rudapedi Yonfer is being rained on for the first time in his life, and the master magician is terrified in much the way you would be if you opened the door to your bathroom one morning and there was a cheetah sitting in your bathtub.

#my writing #mundane kaya sona

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materlux · 17 days ago

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Psithurism

(n.) The sound of the wind through trees.

A distant signal halts the Luofu in its eternal travels, the general decides to play detective much to a certain charioteer’s chagrin. During the adventure the general meets a creature who once too traveled the stars, one who wishes to join their eternal journey.

CW: Fluff, monster!reader, mention of the dead (skeleton; vague). 2.6k

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

This planet had experienced a catastrophic incident many amber eras ago, this has left its remaining life forms cut off from the rest of the cosmos. The people of this planet are, what the Genius Society would label, primitive. They do not understand the giant metal structures left behind by their forefathers, they have no knowledge of the aeons, or of the place they once occupied in the vast universe. To put it simply, it’s like someone pressed the ‘reset’ button on their civilization.

By comparison the Xianzhou Luofu is far beyond advanced, currently it hovers just beyond the solar system. If it weren’t for an odd energy source they picked up off one planet in the system, they would have cruised on by. A signal like that wouldn’t be odd, they often picked up signals from other ships and planets in the area. The weird thing was, that according to the IPC’s database, this solar system was vacant.

So, what was making that signal? A crash landed ship calling out in distress? A new civilisation making first contact? A last ditch effort to save themselves from something terrible?

While the Luofu is under no obligation to step in on matters like these, typically this would be something the IPC would deal with, if it was a distress signal, the residents may not have the time to spare to wait for an IPC unit. So the Xianzhou Alliance stepped in just this once, the IPC were on their way anyway, they were merely assessing the situation and would report back to the IPC. And if it was just first contact, shouldn’t the general himself be present? He thinks so at least.

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The air of the new planet was warm and a bit humid, nothing like the perfectly crafted atmosphere of the Luofu. The general tugged at his uniform as he and a group of cloud knights make their way towards a small town, the town is walled off and guards walk by above at a leisurely pace.

The cobblestone paved road lets out thuds as their boots make contact, the locals stop their daily activity to stare at them. As far as Jing Yuan could assess, no one seemed to be distressed or in immediate danger.

An older gentleman, clad in what looked like an elevated version of the guards uniform stood in their path, his hand rested leisurely on the hilt of his sword. Jing Yuan, with his signature easy smile, went ahead of his unit and introduced himself.

“Hello, I am General Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu, we picked up a signal from this planet and wondered if you were in need of our assistance.” The man before him’s shoulders tensed, his hand inched up to grip the hilt properly.

“I am Captain Auron, I’m afraid I don’t follow, we haven’t sent any ‘signals’ as far as I am aware.” The captain kept an even tone as he spoke. Jing Yuan simply tilted his head in mild thought, “I see,” he muttered under his breath.

“If that is the case, would you mind if we went looking for this signal, it may not have been yours, but someone else may be in need of our help,” Jing Yuan spoke with a hint of confusion, but overall this did not affect him, the mystery is thickening. He hasn’t had this much fun on a mission in a while, if you can even call this detective work fun.

“I don’t personally mind, as long as you don’t cause any trouble.” Auron’s hand returned to its original spot of resting against the hilt. “But if I may, I have a piece of advice regarding what is beyond the wall.”

“By all means, any help would be greatly appreciated.” Jing Yuan gestured for Auron to continue.

“You probably saw it on your way here, beyond the wall there is a dense forest, it stretches for miles. I’d advise you to stay out of it, the place is cursed, and a monster lurks in its shadows.” Jing Yuan simply nodded and the two parted ways.

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While Jing Yuan and his unit of knights would have liked to follow the advice of the Captain, it seems the signal is coming from within the forest. After a call back to the Luofu, and a moment of rest and prep, the group ventures in. The forest is indeed dense, the small winding paths force them to walk in single file lines. The further in they go, the taller the trees seem to grow, reaching into the sky. The air also gets more humid and water drips down from the leaves above.

A knight startles and draws their weapon, for a moment the whole line is reduced to chaos, only the commanding voice of the general makes them settle down again. He manoeuvres his way through the line, and there, in the centre of all the commotion stands a small, white, somewhat human looking figure. It tilts its head and seems entirely unbothered by the previous commotion, its head clicks back into place and it runs back off into the undergrowth.

The unit continues down the path, more on guard now, more of the small creatures have gathered around them. They trail behind them, mimicking the single file line even though they fit far better on the path. Some run ahead of the general, he pays them little mind, they seem harmless if only curious.

By a fork in the road, the small creatures run down one path, a couple stop and click their heads at the unit. The general chuckles under his breath, before turning down the opposite path, the signal is getting stronger.

By the end of the path a clearing opens up, an odd structure rests in the centre, almost completely overgrown. The signal must be coming from this clearing, from the odd structure Jing Yuan concludes.

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High above, something both human in appearance and not, slinks from branch to branch near soundlessly. You, the only living remnant of the past civilization, observe the newcomers with much intrigue. You have, after many years and radiation, lost your ability to speak any known languages. The small creatures, ghosts you think of them, also left over from the catastrophe, gather around you. You can feel the cold of their bodies touching your skin, but there is no weight as they wander all over your back.

A couple slide down the tree and startle the weary soldiers, you smile to yourself, you would tell them to relax, that the ghosts are harmless. But you are a far more frightening sight, and if the soldiers are scared of the ghosts who knows how they’d feel about you, not to mention you cannot speak.

The ghosts gather at the foot of the tree and stare back up at you, to them you are the most obvious sight, and they click their heads at you. They want you to come down and greet the newcomers, much like you used to in the old days.

A man, with long pale blond hair, walks over to the ruckus, he smiles gently at the ghosts and follows their line of sight. His eyes search the canopy above, their colour a striking shade of gold, one you somewhat recognise. An idea pops into your head, if you can’t speak to communicate, perhaps body language can speak for you.

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The branches above shake and shiver before they fall silent, the small creatures too fall silent, whatever was in the canopy has left. “Cloud knights be on guard, we are not alone out here,” Jing Yuan calls out over the clearing.

They begin removing moss and other plants from the structure, they soon discover a large window, a cockpit with seats behind. The seats are occupied by two bodies, both have been reduced to bones. The small creatures jump around and click as the knights work to reveal an entrance.

Inside the ship a small red light blinks, the small creatures stay outside and simply observe the general through the glass. “This must be the signal we are picking up, so it was a distress signal, I’m afraid we are too late,” he speaks to the knights assessing the inside of the ship.

Shouts echo from outside and the knights before him jump into action, they are staring past him out the cockpit window, the small creatures have started clicking their heads again. In one fluid motion Jing Yuan turns, summoning his weapon to his side.

On the front of the ship, something that appears both human and not sits, you look back at him. The small creatures climb onto you and dangle off your arms, their clicks die down once they have gathered by and on your sides. Your arm extends out towards the glass, in your hand you hold a collection of bright gold flowers.

Jing Yuan exhales after a moment of thinking, with a lazy smile and a wave of his hand the knights lower their weapons. He makes his way out of the ship and meets you by the front, you sit back on your haunches and extend the flowers out to him again. He graciously accepts them, they match his eyes near perfectly and you mentally pat yourself on the back for the right pick.

“Thank you.” Jing Yuan has a somewhat bashful smile on his lips, it is not often the great general receives flowers.

“Peace,” you barely manage to croak out, your voice hoarse and thick from lack of use. The general hums and nods, the small creatures click in response, they too mean peace.

“Cloud knights, these beings come in peace, we can relax.” He addresses the knights around him. The knights are still wary of you and the small ghosts, their shoulders relaxed. The general looked over the flowers once again before offering them back to you, “peace,” he repeats. You accept them gently, mindful of your sharp nails.

“Uh, General,” a knight says tentatively, “it- they look like something of the abundance.” Their eyes flicker between you and the general.

“They do,” Jing Yuan agrees with a curious hum. You tilt your head, distantly you recall something about abundance that seems important, but ultimately this information eludes you.

“The Captain also mentioned a monster in the forest,” a different knight speaks up, “could that not be them?” Other knights join in, nodding along, pointing out oddities and not-human characteristics that match with mara-struck.

“Yes, yes,” the general waves a hand, quieting the group. “I do remember what the Captain said, and yes, I do agree their appearance compared to the locals is peculiar.” He looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the plant-like extrusions littering your body. “But, if they say they come in peace, we have to respect that and not respond with hostility.” The knights nod along and agree amongst themselves. You tilt your head, hardly understanding all their talk.

You hover around the clearing, simply observing the knights as they clean the ship and gather what information they can, all preparations for when the IPC arrives and ask for all their findings. The knights are still bothered by your presence, but having faith in their general’s judgement, they leave you be only sending you weary glances when you move from one spot to another.

Heavy foot falls wake you from your half nap on a large rock at the edge of the clearing, the sun is setting beyond the horizon casting golden light through the canopy. Before you stands the general, he regards you with a hint of mirth.

“Resting in the evening sun I see.” He smiles as you blink slowly at him. “Were it not for my duties here, I may just join you.” You stretch your limbs out, ‘join you’, you mull over those words for a moment.

A knight addresses the general and he turns to their attention, their conversation doesn’t reach your ears, far too busy considering his words. Vaguely you hear the knight list some letters, to which the general nods before he calls a set of orders over the camp.

The group spends the night in the clearing, they sleep as much as they can, but it is abundantly clear to you, they aren’t used to camping out in a forest like this. You offer what reassurance you can by staying in the canopy and watching the paths around, the ghosts settle with you among the branches and keep watch. When the sun begins to rise you clamber back down the tree, the large structure made of metal is heated by the morning sun, and it makes a good resting place.

Some time later commotion wakes you, with a stretch and a yawn you observe the knights flitting about the camp, packing bags and jutting down the last notes. The general leans on the front of the structure reading over some notes, his free hand rests on his chin. With careful movements you slide down the glass and sit behind him, distantly you recall something about personal space as you look over his shoulder.

A smile tugs at the general’s lips, he turns his head to look over his shoulder. “Well good morning. I took the liberty to not wake you, you seemed far too comfortable up there, it’d be a shame to disturb you.” You tilt your head at him, eyes still lingering with sleep, he only smiles back at you.

A pair of knights gather before him, he turns his attention around and is suddenly very serious. “General, all preparations are complete.”

The general nods. “Call the men, gather by the path and wait for orders, we’ll be leaving soon.” The knights salute and leave, in a matter of minutes the knights are gathered by the path ready to leave.

Jing Yuan makes a last round of the clearing, you observe him from above, once he’s done a circle he nods to himself seemingly pleased and approaches you.

“I thank you for your peace, it helped keep the knights at ease.” You tilt your head at him, his tone is affectionate so you assume it’s good. “I bid you farewell for now friend, perhaps we’ll stop by this planet again once the IPC has had their look around. We’ll be leaving for home now.” He tilts his head down slightly. ‘Farewell’, for the first time you understand the meaning of the words he speaks, and it fills you with panic. You reach out, a sharp nailed hand grasping his arm, he turns back to you.

Why do you panic, you wonder, is it loneliness? You have spent the last centuries alone, you meet traveling merchants using shortcuts often enough, is it because these people were not hostile? Perhaps it is something deeper, a reminder of the person you once were, the civilisation you once lived in, one that was a part of the universe. Could it be because these people are from beyond the sky? You feel a longing to travel among the stars again, or you simply miss having a friend.

“Is something the matter?” His voice breaks your train of thought, and while you don’t come to a conclusion as to why you panicked, you have decided something else.

“Join you,” you repeat his words from earlier. He seems to think it over, looks back at the group waiting for his next orders, with a sigh he nods.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to join us, so I’ll allow it.”

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Before your eyes the stars once more stretch endlessly, winking and shining, like they're welcoming you back. Somewhere distantly you can hear the general getting an earful from a woman. Jing Yuan, his name, one he spent the better half of the journey back home teaching you.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x male reader #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x gender neutral reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #hsr fluff #fluff

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coopers-hand · 2 years ago

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mercury and why you're given your voice

TLDR: mercury in your natal chart is your mind and your voice, the very ability to speak the words and communicate the ideas. the sign it's in represents the purpose of your own voice, and the house represents the medium, through which your mind is spoken to the world. to gain more insight, look at the aspects, at you 3H and your 9H, as well as to the gemini-saggitarius axis in your chart🎐

~ what is your voice?

aries: your voice is straightforward, fiery and penetrating to the very essense of the thing you're talking about

taurus: your voice is comforting and soothing, bringing comfort and sense of stability to others

gemini: your voice is sharp, bright and even sparkly, if i may say so. it is like a ray of sunshine being reflected from all of the facets of the crystal, lighting up the minds of others

cancer: your voice is soft and muted, making sure that the message reaches only the ones that can truly appreciate it

leo: your voice is warm and cheerful, making the atmosphere of any room you walk in welcoming and lit up with your presence

virgo: your voice is sharp yet muted, dissecting the ideas with the precision of the scalpel

libra: your voice is harmonious and graceful, creating the atmosphere of harmony and concord

scorpio: your voice is deep and pervasive, uncovering every little thing that has been hidden

saggitarius: your voice is bright, loud and expansive, filling up the room with optimism and exploration spirit

capricorn: your voice is solid and robust, bringing up structured ideas and providing people with the sence of reliability

aquarius: your voice is like a lonely echo from up above, bringing up uncomfortable truths and ideas that cannot be brushed off and are in a deep need to be explored

pieces: your voice is a dreamy song of a magical creature, that sounds like a hallucination inside of people's heads

~ how does your voice speak to the world?

1H: your voice is spoken through your own self-expression, through embodying your true self

2H: your voice is spoken in a vocal way, whether it is a beautiful song or a magnificent speech

3H: your voice is spoken through your own ideas, your own words and speculations, no matter what form are they expressed in

4H: your voice is spoken through your presence by inviting people to see beyond your protective shield

5H: your voice is spoken through things you create, through every piece you've put your own soul into

6H: your voice is spoken through your actions, through the structure of your routine, through what you choose to vitalize and what to let sit dead

7H: your voice is heard through communication with others, through the ways you are directly relate to the world

8H: your voice is spoken directly from the depths of your being, raw and unfiltered, almost in a telepathic kind of way

9H: your voice is spoken from the tribunes, stages and places, where you stand in front and above millions of people, your voice is here to lead the humanity

10H: your voice is spoken through the projection of yourself you put into this world, through the ways you embody your perfectly curated highest version of self

11H: your voice is heard when you dream, when you are hopeful and excited about the future and the life itself. it is expressed through your highest vibrations of pure loving and ever-accepting nature.

12H: your voice is spoken in half-tones, through indirect and almost subliminal ways, getting straight into other's subconsious

#mercury #natal chart #astrology #natal astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astroblr #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astrology aspects

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astrea16 · 2 months ago

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Piers and Pirates

So I've never watched One Piece before the live action, and I was curious about the anime but wasn’t sure I’d be into it so I started with Skypiea right away. The interesting thing I’ve noted about the structure of the story is that it reads a lot like a DnD campaign: one big journey divided into story arcs with their own atmospheres and challenges, and of course the iconic “you want to go now?” that turns into a ten-episode prep before the sky islands. I’ve briefly mentioned them before, but some of the encounters are so creative. I’m thinking for example of the Swamp Priest with the body control of a toddler who can’t cross his arms on his chest and forgets to say things out loud; or the old lady at sky customs who will let you pass because she can’t do anything to stop you but then sends an entire squadron after you. It’s a shame the anime is so poorly paced because the worldbuilding is genuinely phenomenal—but then again, it’s like watching a really long DnD campaign.

You can tell that Oda put a lot of research into his manga because every piece of information feels believable, whether it be Robin’s knowledge on ancient civilizations—the fact that Skypiea itself was inspired by the Mysterious Cities of Gold makes so much sense—or Nami’s navigation skills. It feels like you could sail in any direction and find an island with incredibly rich lore and characters. I’m just in awe of how unique each of them feels. Character creation is HARD, and yet no two are the same in Oda’s world. I could only achieve this level of depth with consistent roleplay, and he did it with all of his characters. They speak for decades of reading stories and consuming art blooming into one personal mindscape.

But the most remarkable one is Luffy. As opposed to the typical hero on a journey, Luffy doesn’t stand out because of a major personal growth or anything of the kind. toraheart put it perfectly in their analysis by calling him a catalyst: the story isn’t about Luffy, it’s about how he changes the world around him. How he inspires people to break free from their chains, how he stands for an ideology. More than an actor, Luffy is a symbol. And you can see that as clear as day in One Piece Fan Letter (2024) where he receives less than a minute of screen time, yet his presence resonates throughout the entire episode. The Marine who was inspired to save his brother in a moment of crisis, finding his strength in the boy whose own brother had died before his very eyes. The little girl looking up to Nami as a beacon of hope and rebellion, the same woman who found the courage to ask for help so that she could free herself from a decade of child exploitation at last. The teenager who works at the bookstore, listening to Brook’s music to get through her day. All of these were informed in some ways by the unstoppable force that is Monkey D. Luffy. He quite literally jumped out of a fire in that episode, and we know that epic imagery is one of the most evocative means of inspiration. If the boy wasn’t an anarchist, he’d be the face of revolutionary propaganda.

Speaking of anarchy, some people have called him a terrorist and I think I can stand with that. Luffy is kind, yes, but he is also selfish and stubborn. Despite his desire to help people achieve their dreams, he is entirely unconcerned with casualties when he’s fighting. He has only one goal in mind and will do anything to see it to the end. What compels me isn’t his beastly strength or his extraordinary abilities, it’s the fact that he wants everyone to do the same. To find their one piece, and to add it to the puzzle. It may not fit the first time around, but there will be people riding the same wave as you. And if someone stands in your way, well then screw that! Why do you think Luffy was so happy to have his face on a wanted poster? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not because it confirms his power. It’s because he knows that the world finally sees him. Luffy doesn’t really care about the treasure, he wants to become King of the Pirates so that he can have a place in a world that doesn’t want him.

To finish up on Fan Letter because it’s a masterpiece and I need everyone to acknowledge it, you really get this sense of carelessness from the Strawhats making their escape out of Sabaody. Yeah, everybody knows what they’re up to and they’re not exactly subtle about it (see: Luffy), but since when do they give a damn? The whole world is watching and they’re not even looking back, they’re just feeling the wind in their backs and staring straight ahead. Doesn’t that make you want to go on a grand adventure yourself?

By the way, if you liked the feel of the animation I highly recommend checking out the Gobelins channel on YouTube. It features several shorts by aspiring filmmakers in art school and they’re all a freaking delight to watch.

#i like watching things out of order don't come for me #im a film major so i can do whatever i want #one piece #one piece fan letter

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absolutebl · 1 month ago

Note

hi!!! do you have favorite bl movies (maybe with happy endings too)?👀❤️

Top 10 BL Movies

(as of end of 2024, in no particular order)

My personal favorites will always have HEAs (or at least HFN). I don't love ambiguous endings and I hate sad ones. I'm going to include the Korean stuff that has been recut as movies, because I can.

1 Seven Days

Japan 2015

AKA Seven Days: Monday-Thursday AND Seven Days: Friday-Sunday

This is a cheat as it's 2 movies, but that's still less run time than your bog standard marvel tent pole these days, so it counts.

One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes. The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

2 Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine

AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? AKA Vending Machine Sabi Koi

Japan 2023

This movie is utterly adorable, impossibly awkward, and kinda old fashioned. About a cute nerdy little office worker (he's out!) who has a big'ol crush on the tall hulking vending machine guy. They fall in love. And that’s it. And it’s charming. There’s some first name eroticism (because Japan) and there's emphasis on communication (so not Japan) which turns this into an organically loving and talkative relationship. There’s a bit of an age gap and our office cutie may or may not have a muscles fetish (the hot bod, not the shellfish) because (if I’ve told you once I’ve told you 1 million times) Japan always goes kinky. And you know what, I loved it.

3 Restart After Come Back Home

AKA Risutato wa tadaima no ato de

Japan 2020

Atmospheric study in rural Japan meets complex family dynamics built on a romance framework of city boy meets country boy, grumpy/sunshine. It’s beautiful and icy sweet. Slow moving in places but ultimately worth the patience, low heat, low angst, and stunning.

4 His

Japan 2020

His is about being a grown adult and still struggling with coming out. It addresses the consequences choosing a life disingenuous to identity. Nagisa turns up on Shun’s doorstep with his precocious daughter in tow. This is a touch confusing to Shun since they were each others first love and Nagisa broke his heart. Shun has retreated from society, rejecting the world before it can reject him because without Nagisa he never had a reason to fight. Nagisa went the opposite, pretending to be something he was not, ending up with a daughter he adores and a wife who hates him. This movie is beautiful and the setting is unique and interesting but I'm not wild about the ending, it's HFN (happy for now). Honestly, I think I mostly liked this because I have a mad crush on Miyazawa Hio (Shun).

5 After Sundown

AKA Saengrawi

Thailand 2023

It's from Mandee and horror (neither really my thing), yet I liked it. It's oddly sweet and wholesome, for a ghost story. Phloeng and Rawee enter into an arranged marriage for confusing prophetic reasons. Twists of fate demand that they solve the mystery of a past that is haunting Phloeng's family and harming Rawee. Honestly, it makes no actual sense, but it's kinda historical, and very pretty, so I enjoyed it more than I should.

Korean BL that aired as shows but are cut together as movies & great

In some of these cases the movies are better than the originals, in some they are exactly the same.

6 Color Rush

2021

A unique paranormal twist elevates this classic high school drama into a pitch-perfect allegory for the queer coming out experience and one of the best BLs of all time (I will fight you on this).

7 Semantic Error

2022

The ultimate enemies to lovers, also the prettiest. Sexy older boy discovers pouty younger boy has outed him as a slacker, starts out bullying him, accidentally falls madly in love instead. Korea hits it entirely out of the Parks by doing a university BL with everything we expect from BL just done exactly right. Korea's signature quality executed perfectly with added bonus good story, great pacing, stunning visuals, and fantastic chemistry. You cannot ask for more from a BL, let alone a KBL.

8 To My Star

2021

Hwang Da Seul directing this show about a neurotic actor (actual puppy) who takes refuge with a grumpy chef resulting in sparks, cooking lessons, and LOVE! It’s is a touch quirky to get into, but utterly charming once it hits its stride. This is the ultimate grumpy/sunshine pairing plus the most appealing light-filled kitchen of our dreams. I adore this show so much. Limited use of BL tropes makes this feel more of a sweet contemporary gay romance between an actor plagued by scandal and the chef who accidentally adopts him, but the gentleness will appeal to fans of the BL genre.

9 Long Time No See

2017

This originally aired as a series but I have only ever seen it as a movie. So I'm counting it.

Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Suspenseful plot, good fight sequences, mature characters, hot sexitimes, and even hotter beating the shit out of each other and kissing while covered in blood (this came from KOREA?), plus an HEA. One of the greatest hidden gems of the BL genre.

10 Wish You: Your Melody in My Heart

2020

Set in the music industry featuring a talented singer and the pianist who falls in love with him (and his music), this is subtle and achingly adorable. High production, low heat, short run, very tame, and Korea, so all the pretty. Slow burn and lots of pining.

(source)

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corralinesage · 2 months ago

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Portrait of a wounded heart (7/8)

This is the last official chapter of this work. Hope you enjoy! <3

CHAPTER 7 Reification

Your eyes flashed open as you forced yourself awake, blinking your eyes to get rid of the heaviness of your eyelids. You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t miss a single moment of being snuggly cuddled up in Natasha’s embrace, your cheek pressed up against her breast and her arms wrapped around you. She was lying on her healthy side, giving her injured ribs some relief, which left you the most perfect spot to sleep in. Your room was dark, streetlights peeking from behind your curtains to illuminate the wooden floor, the cold air of your room contrasting perfectly with Natasha’s warm body as it pressed tightly up against yours beneath the covers. She smelled like sex, you smelled like sex, the scent mixing with body wash and the mild fragrance of fresh linen that still clung to the sheets you had changed two days before. Natasha was asleep, her chest moving in tandem with yours as she breathed evenly, her nose buried in your hair. She must have been beyond tired after what she had had to endure at work. She had barely moved since you both had settled down for the night. You could hear her gentle breathing above you, a smile spreading onto your lips. In the span of just a couple hours you had noticed that she had a habit of huffing quietly in her sleep, soft noises getting muffled by your hair as she slept soundly, the weight of her arm squeezing you against her body, her fingers limply curled against your bare back.

You were so happy, you were so happy that your body physically ached from how difficult it was to process that emotion you had been lacking for so long. You felt small and feeble beside the overwhelmingly powerful feeling that had all of a sudden gotten such a tight, suffocating grip on you, yet it felt good. It felt comforting to know that there was still light somewhere in your future, that you could have good things. You weren’t damned to a life of misery, you weren’t destined for loneliness, but you had a very real possibility of finding true happiness and stability in your life, that was if the woman holding you managed to behave. You knew she shouldn’t have been the one to carry the burden of your contentment, but she just so happened to be a huge part of it, and there was nothing you could do about it. She made you happy, happy in a way that you couldn’t control.

Natasha huffed again, pressing her nose farther into your hair as she nuzzled herself closer to you, adjusting her position, her foot sliding up your calf. You couldn’t remember a time you had slept next to someone, let alone in someone’s arms, or you could, but you didn’t want to think about it. The memory would have only ruined the serene atmosphere of your bedroom where time stood still, and only happy thoughts existed. You burrowed your face into her bare chest, kissing the warm skin, freeing your hand from between your bodies to glide it down the curve of her waist beneath the blanket. Her skin was impossibly smooth, your fingertips stroking over the silky surface, going up to her hip to meet her hipbone that jutted out slightly before coming back down to where her waist dipped the lowest. You hugged her closer, your hand wandering to explore her muscular back, finding all kinds of subtle arches and bumps for you to trace. You breathed in the warmth of Natasha’s skin, your mind drifting, eyes fluttering shut without you noticing.

The next time you tore your eyes open, the sun was up in the sky, but covered by clouds, gentle light beaming into your room through the curtains. You could hear cars outside, the even hum of traffic with an occasional honk of a horn carrying through the poor structures of the building. Your body was stiff, but you were more than comfortable in your sheets. You felt a hand on your waist, your attention shifting automatically to Natasha as you turned around to face her, having rolled away from her embrace in your sleep. You found her frizzy hair, her relaxed face buried in her pillow, her eyes remaining closed. You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face, the excitement from the day before returning in full force. She was there, right there in front of you, cuddled up in your sheets, in your sheets. You hid your face in your hands, refraining from squealing. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t. Yet it was.

You decided to let her sleep for as long as she needed to, hoping that she could recharge herself properly after the night she had had. It was quite early still, early enough for your 9AM-alarm to not have gone off. You had a four-hour-long lecture that day, but you were without a shadow of a doubt going to skip it, so you made sure to disable the alarm altogether to avoid disturbing Natasha in any way. You watched her sleep for a long time, your gaze studying her tranquil state until you finally failed to fight the itch to go fetch your sketchbook. You settled down on the edge of the bed where you could see her from your desired angle, your pencil finding the paper on its own as you started sketching, eyes remaining on her beautiful face, slowly moving down to her bare shoulder and waist, the duvet covering up the rest of her body. You traced her soft, feminine frame onto the paper, your pencil defining each gentle curve of her body while you simultaneously admired even the most minute details about her. It might have been a bit strange, it might have been unnerving to some, but you didn’t even think about it. You were simply drawing, yearning to replicate, immortalize, the beauty that you saw.

Your gaze remained on her face, the pencil in your hand halting for a moment. You felt overcome with reverence for her beauty, your mind remaining in awe of her ethereal appearance that somehow went much deeper than the surface. You couldn’t describe the experience adequately enough, her demeanor somehow shining through her exterior. Maybe it was something only you could see, maybe it was a mere figment of your imagination, but whatever it was, it was beautiful, breathtakingly gorgeous. It was reflected in every aspect of her appearance. You saw it in the way her long lashes only barely fluttered against her cheeks as she dreamt away. You saw it in those plump lips that were paler and drier than normal, the unmoisturized surface revealing the thin lines on the delicate skin. You saw it in each loose hair strand that curled against the ivory of her face and shoulder, in every gorgeous mole on her cheek. You saw the experience in its entirety in each captivating component of her face that formed the raw beauty that she possessed.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, but eventually your full bladder demanded your attention and you straightened yourself upright to fix the non-ergonomic hunch that you had sat in, abandoning your sketch to go into the bathroom. You made sure to fix up your appearance and brush your teeth to get more comfortable, no other reason, just to get the day started. You were totally not expecting to pick up where you had left off with Natasha the night before. No. You flushed the toilet, sprayed some of that average-priced perfume of yours on your wrists and immediately rubbed most of it off when you realized that you had a professional spy in your bedroom who would take one sniff at you and know that you had put on perfume for her. You didn’t want to come off as desperate. You washed your face, wiping the sleep off your eyes, your skin regaining its radiance and freshness with a layer of moisturizer.

When you returned into the bedroom, to your surprise, Natasha was awake, sitting casually against the headboard with the sketchbook in her hands. You froze, unsure of how she was going to react to the life-like drawing that reflected her appearance with surprising accuracy, even in your own, humble opinion. Her eyes met yours, a smile finding her lips when she was met with your gaze that reminded her a bit of a poor deer caught in headlights. You took a step forward to avoid making the situation even more awkward, slowly returning to bed, Natasha’s eyes dipping down your body to note the fact that you had found clothes.

“How do you do it?” She asked in awe, her voice coarse and low from sleep, a gentle flutter going through you. Her eyes went back to the pencil drawing, her fingers caressing the edge of the pages as if itching to flip through the book. Maybe she already had.

“Do what?” You sat down on the bed, burying your cold feet beneath the duvet.

“Make it so realistic.”

“Um…” You chuckled from nerves despite the fact that Natasha had revealed herself to be a fan of art, especially your art. You didn’t have an answer for her. “I don’t know.” She flipped the page, her eyes landing on those obsessive, messy sketches you had made during your lectures, but her level face told you that she had already seen them. Had it been anyone else you would have felt resentment for having your personal belongings snooped through, but for some reason, with her you felt the need to showcase your work. You wanted her to see the sketches, you wanted her opinion, and above all, you hoped to please her with them.

“You’re incredibly talented. I don’t think you realize…”

“No, I’m…”, you chuckled again, feeling awkward for receiving praise, struggling to look her in the eye when you recalled everything she had said to you in bed.

“You don’t see it, do you?” She glanced at you, flipping the page again.

“Probably not.” You leaned closer to look at the sketch of her sitting in art class. “It just… It doesn’t feel right. I know it sounds dumb, but it’s missing that feeling. I don’t know how to describe it, but I’ll know when it’s there.”

“You’re not satisfied. I get that”, she hummed in understanding, going back to the sketch of her sleeping, admiring the dreamy quality that the smudged lead around the edges gave to it.

“Yeah. Anyways, did you sleep well? How’s your body doing?” You didn’t want to focus on your lacking drawing skills, so you sought for a way out of the conversation, bothered by the fact that you had yet again failed to capture her presence in the way you wished to. Natasha smirked.

“Oh, my body is more than okay”, she said knowingly, closing the sketchbook and handing it back to you, her smile wearing off on you.

“I meant your injuries.” You huffed out a small laugh.

“They’re alright. I’ll live.”

“Good.” You couldn’t stop smiling, staring at her for inappropriately long as she sat there in your sheets, naked with her messy curls. “Are you hungry?” You should have already known the answer to that, Natasha’s smirk turning into a wild grin.

“Oh, boy, am I.” Her eyes dropped down to your tank top, her lower lip finding itself clamped between her teeth as she took in the lace hemming of your shirt that matched with the waistband of your underwear. You might have put on a set just to please her. She glanced up at you briefly before her eyes took in the shape of your breasts that could be seen through the thin material, her hand reaching for your arm. “Come here.” You crawled closer to her, gladly allowing her to pull you into her embrace, a small giggle falling from your lips when she buried her face into your neck. “How do you look so good, hmm?” She opened her mouth, biting down gently to hear you squeal, Natasha chuckling quietly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “How did I find myself a girl this pretty?” You laughed again, warmth stirring within you from the way your body pressed into hers, your mind painfully aware of the fact that she was fully nude.

“By having taste”, you scoffed playfully, Natasha pulling back just so you could see her roll her eyes, but the gesture was nothing if not loving.

“Oh, she’s sassy too, I see”, she hummed a bit teasingly as if to herself.

“Would you want me to be more coy, more submissive?” Your tone was laced with sarcasm. You had no intention to be anything but yourself, although there was room for persuasion. She would merely have to say the words. “I can be anything you want as long as I’m yours.” It was all meant to be a playful, little tease, but you did want confirmation that everything that had been said the night before hadn’t just been sex-crazed confessions that meant nothing outside of the four walls of your bedroom. You could tell that your words got to her, those jade eyes turning hungry, her gaze lingering on your lips as her hand found your waist.

“You’re mine, detka”, she whispered, your cheeks heating violently at the low tone of her voice, arousal pooling in your lower abdomen. Oh, dear god. You gave her a smile, excitement beaming through the gesture.

“Good.” You had no words for the intense feeling of belonging that you experienced in her arms. You just knew you were meant to be there and nowhere else.

“Now I can cross ‘sassy girlfriend’ off my bucket list”, she mused, her sleepy eyes playful.

“You have a bucket list?” You asked in suspicion, wrapping your arms around her neck to stay close.

“No. Or I did, but you were the only thing on it”, she said jokingly, your laughter resonating in the otherwise quiet room.

She pulled you closer, her lips finding the side of your neck, trailing down to your shoulder, her fingers sliding the strap of your top down to get it out of the way, the material drooping lower on your breasts. She kissed the bare expanse of your chest, guiding you to lie down beside her on the bed, her lips remaining glued to your body. She moved to your side, a quiet groan of pain falling from her lips. Her movements were slow and controlled, clearly limited by the ache in her ribs, but she seemed relatively unaffected. She pulled back from you, propping her head into the palm of her hand so she could look down at you, her free hand pulling you flush against her naked body. You loved how comfortable she seemed with you, her nudity only solidifying the impression she was giving you. She didn’t mind being seen by you, maybe she even wanted it specifically, your eyes dropping down to her soft breasts. They were pale, her nipples hard from the cold air they were exposed to, a couple of red marks lingering on her skin from the night before. You didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were beyond pleased to be so close to her, your mouth finding her breast on its own as her fingers sank into your hair only to bring you even closer. She couldn’t resist you and your warm mouth, her body leaning into you automatically, searching for more as she carded her fingers through your hair.

Natasha got more comfortable on the bed, her leg hooking over your body as her fingers trailed down your upper back, a small smile that you couldn’t see lingering on her lips. You kissed her chest, locating her collarbones in the process of going up to her neck. You felt the soft moan that she let out, the gentle vibration reaching your lips as you kissed up her throat, your body reacting to the sound with sudden vigor, a happy grin finding your lips. The feeling was so intense that the smile was incapable of holding back your giggle. Natasha responded to it with one of her own as she rolled you into the sheets, her laughter flowing into a melodic chuckle that warmed your heart. She rested her weight over you, returning your kisses with loud and sloppy ones, her warm, wet mouth tickling your ear and neck. You arched into her, savoring the comfort that her toned frame brought you, your arms wrapping around her waist to keep her close. She pulled back enough to see your face, observing you for a long moment, her hand coming up to caress your jaw with the very tips of her fingers as she leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind”, she pointed out quietly, her fingers moving into your hair to play with it as she shifted her body slightly to the side, settling beside you with her head propped up by her elbow. You held her gaze for a moment, your cheeks warming up from how intimate it all felt.

“Last night, you said you didn’t wanna risk my safety. What did you mean by that?” You felt your insides twist from arousal as you recalled the very moment she had said those words. Natasha acquired a look of mild worry onto her features, her smile fading away.

“My work is… well, dangerous, to put it lightly. It’s why I prefer being single, being alone. It makes everything easier because I won’t have to worry about anyone coming after the ones I love, if there’s no one to love.” You felt the sad frown on your face before you even registered the emotion, your eyes returning to her solemn face. “I tried to keep it that way, but you…” She couldn’t help the smile that stretched onto her lips, her hand cupping your face as her gaze roamed all over your features. “You made it impossible.”

“Does this mean someone is gonna assassinate me?” You asked in a lighter tone to ease the sudden glumness in the atmosphere, but Natasha didn’t allow herself to laugh.

“No”, she mumbled quietly, tugging you closer as if to protect you from the nonexistent dangers of your bedroom. “You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it.” You nodded your head, your entire body burning up in scorching flames from the subtle display of protectiveness. Oh, good god, what a woman.

“I have another question.”

“Let’s hear it then.” She gave you a small smirk, clearly pleased by your curious nature.

“Was it really just a coincidence that we ran into each other at the mall?” Natasha looked away, her sly smirk telling you everything you needed to know, your face breaking into an astonished grin.

“No”, she mumbled quietly, as if unwilling to admit to such a thing. “I followed you there.” You looked at her with your round eyes, unable to believe what she was saying.

“And your friend?”

“There was no friend. I had a day off, and nothing better to do.” She chuckled softly, continuing with her explanation. “I was gonna go to your campus, but then I saw you walking toward the subway and, well…”

“Wow, you’re such a creep”, you huffed sarcastically, Natasha rolling her eyes.

“Yeah? Shall we take another look at your sketchbook? Talk about a creep”, she countered in amusement, tickling your side teasingly, a small squeak escaping you.

“I’m so glad it wasn’t just me”, you said in a giggle, pushing her hand away as if you would have actually been against her touching you. She chuckled at the little squeal you let out.

“It wasn’t just you.” She kissed your forehead again, her hand moving down to the hem of your shirt, sliding up your front to rest over your bare sternum where she could very clearly feel your erratic heart thud against your ribs.

Breakfast was delayed by wet, sloppy kisses that trailed down your chest, both of you thoroughly appreciative of the comforting atmosphere of your bedroom until your rumbling stomachs got too loud to be ignored. The only problem was that you didn’t have any groceries, none, absolutely nothing, if you didn’t count the box of uncooked pasta and a bag of flour that both sat on your otherwise empty shelves. You really should have been taking much better care of your eating habits. You could always go out for breakfast. Manhattan had an assortment of amazing diner options, but you didn’t want to leave your cozy apartment because you feared that it was going to ruin the perfectly domestic atmosphere that you and Natasha had created for yourselves. Additionally, your protective side refused to let her walk more than a couple of feet with what may very well have been a case of broken ribs.

You switched the coffee maker on while Natasha washed the remnants of sleep off her face in the bathroom. You lent her more clothing options, all your skincare and lotions, even managing to find a spare toothbrush for her, willing to do just about anything to make her comfortable. And when you said anything, you truly meant anything.

“Hey, Nat, I’m gonna go across the hall real quick! I’ll be right back!” You hollered through the closed door of the bathroom, receiving an affirmative response before you exited your apartment and made your way to Mrs. Verlice’s door. You knocked on it, feeling your heart stutter from nerves. You really hated to be that kind of a neighbor, but it was your best option. The door opened, Mrs. Verlice taking a long, hard look at you as you stood there awkwardly on her doormat.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but… would you happen to have any bread?” You felt mortified for even asking, but she was the only person in the building who you had ever spoken to, and she was your best shot.

“Bread? For what?” She grumbled, her eyes studying your pajamas and morning slippers.

“Yeah, I kind of don’t have any food at home. I was gonna go shopping yesterday but something came up and…” Mrs. Verlice squinted at you.

“That woman”, she noted with sudden confidence. She knew for a fact that someone had come over to your apartment, and you knew that her peeping hole was to blame for all the spying she had done.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not in any trouble, are ya?” She eyed you intensely, calculating every square inch of your body to try to figure out your situation, eyes lingering on your neck. You might have had a hickey there.

“Oh, no, no. Nothing of the sort. See… I got a friend over and…” God, why did it have to be so awkward. “I just need something to feed her”, you chuckled jokingly, but you really did need something Natasha could eat. She was starving, she must have been. Mrs. Verlice smiled knowingly.

“She’s not vegan or whatever the hell that is?” There was a very clear hint of disdain in her tone. You gave her a small smile, trying to appeal to her to the best of your abilities.

“No.”

“Alright. Wait here.” And so, you waited, patiently listening to Mrs. Verlice explain the situation to her husband as the sound of dishes clinking carried into the hallway. You couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, or why it took so long for her to find a couple of slices of bread, but you soon received your answer when she returned with a whittle basket filled with food, your eyes widening in shock.

“Oh, no. You shouldn’t have. I would have been fine with just the bread”, you protested softly, truly appalled by her generosity. She shook her head dismissively.

“I got nine kids. I’m used to feeding a bunch of rascals”, she huffed, a small smile caressing her lips for just a moment as she recalled each of her children, her mind most likely filled with many memories of the now adult children that had once been your age and younger.

“Thank you”, you whispered, accepting the heavy basket, your brows furrowing into a small frown. “Is there anything I could do to repay you? I have money, or if you want me to draw you something-“

“No. You take that food and go. Make your girlfriend happy”, she said in a definitive tone, the use of that specific term catching you off-guard. You almost wanted to ask her what she meant by it, if she knew about your sexuality, but you decided against it, finding it unnecessary. “Johnny’s had too much bacon anyway. His arteries are about to burst, cholesterol through the roof.” You laughed quietly at her comment.

“Thank you again. I’ll make this up to you. I promise.” Mrs. Verlice didn’t say a word, simply waved her hand in a rather indifferent way and slammed the door in your face. You turned around and headed back into your apartment to set up breakfast for your very own Avenger.

“Where the hell did you find all this? I thought you didn’t have anything. How long was I in the bathroom?” Natasha asked in astonishment, walking over to the small dining table with her brow arched. Her gait seemed a bit better after a full night of sleep. She looked down at the assortment of food, finding a stack of pancakes, toast with sunny side up eggs, bacon, and a carton of orange juice.

“I have superpowers”, you said playfully, adding your jar of jam and another of peanut butter on the table, chuckling softly, Natasha squinting your way, walking right past the dinner table to you, her lips pressing down on the top of your head in a chaste kiss.

“It’s from that old lady across the hall, isn’t it?” She was far too good at her job not to put the puzzle pieces together by herself.

“Yeah.”

You both sat down at the table, gladly digging in on the delicious breakfast, your aching stomachs finally at ease after the long wait they had endured. There was a comfortable silence that engulfed you as you ate your food, Natasha’s foot resting against your own under the table, her toes occasionally brushing against your foot or ankle. She liked to be connected to you in whatever way was accessible, her body craving to be near you. The meal stretched on for much longer than you had anticipated. You made more coffee for the both of you, returning to the dining table with your sketchbook in hand, a spark of inspiration finding its way back to you with sudden confidence. You needed to capture her aura, and as impossible as it sounded, you felt like you could do it. The setting felt perfect in a way you couldn’t explain, the gloomy weather outside wrapping the moment in a warm and fuzzy veil of comfort that contrasted perfectly with the radiant happiness that billowed from your small apartment. The dark clouds of the sky, the wet, browning leaves outside surrounding you with a certain ubiquity, Natasha’s light, your light, shining through like a splash of vermillion against the dull grays of autumn. You needed to capture that contrast, that moment, in your notebook, in your drawing, painting, whatever. It didn’t matter which medium you used, you simply needed to capture it by any means possible, and a pencil and your trusty sketchbook happened to be the most accessible option.

Natasha sipped on her coffee, eyeing you curiously as you started sketching again, your eyes going back and forth between her and the pages in front of you. She could see the way the sketch formed through a practiced process of defining shapes, her eyes following along as you drew her seated position across the round table. She remained still on her own, not requiring any instructions from you. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, unless to take a sip of her coffee, maintaining her position for you without questioning it. She could see from your eyes that you had a specific vision that you were looking to fulfill, and she would have never dared to disrupt your creative process when she could so clearly see that you were fully in your element, reaching for something that only you could see.

Over the course of her career as a model, and as a spy, she had taken a liking to observing people. She had no problem sitting opposite of another person as an object of their observation because the other person was as much of an object as she was. Natasha had an undeniably good opportunity to form a very meticulous judge of character from her spot as a silent observer. She had learned to read the most minute details of a person’s facial expressions, and she was capable of making many very thoroughly rationalizable judgments about those who thought that only they were doing the observing. Sometimes people would forget her presence altogether, but contrary to popular belief, that was when her game of observing got infinitely better. That was when people’s true identities and personalities came out to play, and she would get a front row seat to the wonders of their minds, which was exactly why she had no problem posing for you for as long as you would possibly need her to. She enjoyed sitting still and being quiet, grateful to get yet another peek at your creative side. It had been all too long since she had last felt those calculating, admiring eyes on her.

The sketch came along with surprising ease, your hand flying over the paper in gentle strokes of your pencil. You defined the outline of her frame, shaping in her hair, her face, her shoulders, her knit sweater. You left the room a couple of times to find a different grade of graphite, searching for a deeper contrast, looking to make the drawing truly pop up from the paper. You even got a couple of colored pencils to map out the color palette of the moment, the feeling, that you were chasing after. You hadn’t decided to make a painting of her, or any colored piece for that matter, but the process seemed to flow into that direction on its own. You couldn’t resist it, wanting to remember all the colors that you felt within that moment, the contrast of warm and cold, dark and light, and above all, the harmony they created.

It took you an hour, nearly two, to finish the small, relaxed sketch you had made of her, the attention to detail having demanded more of your time, but it was all worth the effort. You looked down at your sketchbook, an intense sense of rightness consuming you. The drawing was done, and you could finally feel that specific feeling, her energy, transmit to the viewer through the image. You felt Natasha’s soft, unyielding presence that always demanded your attention, when you looked at the drawing, her regal composure coming through in a casual, quiet way. She looked divine in a mundane sense, her steadfast demeanor shining through the relaxed pose as she sat before the breakfast setting, a half-eaten stack of pancakes in front of her. You stood up from your chair, a wild grin on your lips as you made your way to Natasha, kissing her from pure joy.

“You’re perfect. Ah, you’re perfect! Magnificent”, you mumbled between kisses, Natasha’s chuckle getting muffled by your mouth. “I could actually squeal right now. I could squeal like a little kid getting candy for breakfast… and it’s all because of you”, you said, Natasha’s expression matching your wide smile as she pushed herself back on her chair enough to fit you between her and the table. You followed her silent urging and straddled her lap, her hands falling automatically to your hips, sliding down to your buttocks, fingertips rubbing gently over the thin flannel you wore.

“Squeal away”, she chuckled, looking up at you with a small smile, her hands wandering down your thighs as if massaging you absentmindedly. You could barely take it, your heightened emotions reacting to her touch in an instant. You needed to kiss her again, so you did. “Can I see it?” She asked as you pulled away from the chaste kiss.

“Uh-huh.” You reached across the table for the sketchbook to bring it between you, Natasha’s eager eyes finding the finished drawing. She looked at it for a moment, studying the very detailed image of how you saw her, her gaze lingering on the lead that marked the paper, slowly moving to the color wheel you had mapped out onto the next page.

“It’s beautiful. I love it”, she hummed quietly, glancing up at your face that was filled with excitement.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I can feel it. The thing you said about that specific feeling. Something’s different here.” Her eyes moved back down to the pages, her thumbs stroking over your waist in a way that made it harder for you to focus on her words.

“What do you feel?” You asked in curiosity, searching for her eyes, a small smile finding Natasha’s lips as she took the notebook from your hands and placed it behind you on the table, pulling you flush against her. She kissed you firmly, her left hand trailing up your back and into your hair, her right one pulling your hips closer to her lap. Had she not been injured she wouldn’t have wasted another second at the kitchen table, but her bruised ribs wouldn’t allow her to stand up without difficulty, let alone carry you into your bedroom, so she stayed there in the fading scent of bacon and pancakes, her tongue caressing the seam of your lips, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Instead of giving her access, you pulled away, a smug look on your face. “Now you’re just giving me a lady boner.”

“Wow, what an eloquent way to put it”, she chuckled, warmed by the mirth that shone in your eyes.

“For lack of a better term”, you mumbled, leaning back in to kiss her. “But seriously, what do you feel?” Natasha didn’t even glance at the drawing, a hint of something that you couldn’t quite decipher on her face as she looked at you, your gazes locked together as if neither of you could do anything but look at one another.

“I just feel you”, she whispered earnestly. You looked into her impossibly green eyes, feeling like you were going to drown in the coolness of her forest green irises that reminded you of pine trees and heavy rain. “I feel adored and respected. I feel beautiful… all the things that I feel when you look at me.”

“You are beautiful.” You cupped her face with your hands, studying her unique features before gently ghosting your finger over the wound on her head. It had healed shut, but you should have probably put a bandage of some sorts on it. Your eyes met again, your fingertips sliding into her hair to push it back enough to see her face in all its glory. Your lips were mere inches away from hers, her weak breath fanning over your chin as you played with her thick locks, observing her features as up-close as humanly possible. You kissed her slowly, so slowly that you were teasing yourself more than you were teasing her, your underwear suddenly more than uncomfortable. “Wanna take care of my lady boner?” You asked in a playful, little quip, Natasha bursting into laughter, her face finding your neck to muffle the sound. You couldn’t help but to laugh along with her, the sound mixing with her low, melodic laugh, creating a soft harmony.

“I’d be honored to.” You giggled quietly, her mouth tickling your neck in a way that made your back arch. “Come on, sweetheart.” She patted your thigh gently, prompting you to get up. You didn’t make it farther than the living room couch before she was laying on top of you, her lips beelining to the waistband of your pants as you squirmed against the cushions, a ridiculous, sappy smile on your face when you remembered that every single other person in your class was sitting on a lecture, listening to the professor talk about something boring while you had a redheaded woman –your girlfriend– going down on you, her firm hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

A/N: Only epilogue left!

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beepborpdoodledorp · 10 days ago

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alright, I'm in need of a palate cleanser, TADC Episodes ranking because why not

Now that Episode 4's marked the (almost) halfway point of the show it's as good a time as any to do a personal ranking and also I want to procrastinate working on more angsty fanart as much as possible for my own sanity

Mystery of Mildenhall Manor

What is there that I can even add to this conversation, the episode is fucking stellar. Pomni and Kinger's dynamic is impeccable start to end and I'm a sucker for anything remotely resembling the found family trope so that just further elevates my opinion, and as both an avid Zooble enjoyer and a very un-cis person their subplot hit me hard. And oh my God, the hallway scene, it's still my single favorite moment in the entire show. The soundtrack, the atmosphere, the gorgeous visuals, the emotional build-up from the conversation beforehand, I want to just absorb the essence of this scene into my bone structure. I've watched this episode twice so far and both times the hallway scene almost made me cry. I'd recommend this in a heartbeat to someone who isn't even interested in TADC or the wider genres it belongs to, it's just that fucking good.

2. Fast Food Masquerade

It is. Probably not that hard to figure out where I stand on this episode considering how much I've been annoying every TADC tag under the sun the past 72 hours. I absolutely adored this episode, was literally everything I wanted and more based on the promo material. I love Gangle, her storyline about hiding her depression hit way too hard, I love Zooble, I love Gangle and Zooble being gay as fuck, I love Ragatha being absolutely fried the entire episode, I love Jax showing three whole seconds of human decency. Gummigoo. Oh my God. With how much praise I just threw Episode 3's way it's probably weird to learn I actually think Episode 4 is an overall better episode (by a very thin margin, but still), it just gave us a lot more interactions and development with the group as a whole which is something we were mostly lacking in up until this point usually due to the group being separated at some point or another during an adventure. In all honesty if Episode 3 didn't have the hallway scene I'd probably put it in this spot, but it does and the hallway scene fucks so Episode 4 is down here.

3. Candy Carrier Chaos

Again, what can I even add to this conversation. A great expansion after our first taste of TADC, Gummigoo solos, I love sentient AIs undergoing existential crises as they come to terms with the implications of their existence. My one major complaint (which I had back when the episode first released and it's just been amplified with the last two episodes' releases) is just that we don't get much content of any of the main cast besides Pomni, their interactions are surface-level and don't offer us basically anything new from what we saw of them in the pilot. But that also wasn't what the episode was about so I can mostly give it a pass.

4. PILOT

The pilot was a very good jumping off point for the series and is decent as a standalone, but after rewatching it about a month or two back I don't think it's aged all that well. Again, it's still a perfectly fine watch and does its job of setting up all the stepping stones for the series, but the best way I can describe the pilot is…cluttered. It's just a lot of information and events you need to fit into one twenty-minute episode, so most of the episode goes at a breakneck pace in between a lot of back-to-back jokes that sometimes miss the mark (mostly the fault of Caine, I love him but he is definitely a character who is most effective in short bursts of screentime). You can definitely tell they were still trying to get a feel of things while making this episode and that's completely fine! It's a pilot, that's the whole point. Just doesn't really hold up when compared to its successors.

#im aware i could've just used tiermaker for this and it would've looked a lot less ugly #but also i didn't want to go through the trouble of making a tier list that consisted of just four items lol #tadc #the amazing digital circus

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yanderejustforyou · 13 days ago

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Unholy Bond

Summary:

Dean’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "You don’t get it, Sammy," he purred, tightening his grip on Sam’s jaw. "I’ve been trying to break free from this all my life. But you? You’ve always been the weak one. You’ve always been the one to hold onto this... morality. It’s pathetic." I take request!!!

The moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting a cold, pale light that bathed the small, abandoned cabin in an eerie glow. The sharp, biting chill of the air wrapped around the structure like a predator, creating an atmosphere filled with foreboding. Inside, the air was thick with the pungent scent of smoke mingling with the metallic tang of blood—the remnants of a hunt gone horribly wrong, a night that had spiraled into darkness. In the middle of the room stood Dean Winchester—strong and tall, a man once defined by honor, grit, and an unbreakable bond with his brother, Sam.

But now, he radiated a powerful energy that Sam had never before witnessed—his eyes glowing a fierce, unnatural shade of red, casting a demonic light over the grim tableau around them. This was not the Dean Sam remembered.

The transformation had been subtle at first; fleeting moments of darkness that had crept into Dean's demeanor, small changes that Sam had chosen to attribute to exhaustion and the burdens of their relentless hunts. But now, standing in this cabin, in this particularly chilling moment, there was no room for denial. Dean had been consumed by the demon lurking within him, the malevolent force he had fought so valiantly against. The man Sam had cherished as a brother lay buried beneath this twisted, diabolical facade—a Dean that was now unrecognizable.

Sam's hands trembled at his sides, heart thundering in his chest like a drum echoing in an empty chamber. He stood paralyzed by the door, feeling exposed, vulnerable. He had no weapon to defend himself, no means of countering what Dean had become. The darkness emanating from his brother suffocated him like a shroud, overwhelming him with a sense of dread. Deep down, Sam sensed that the Dean he remembered was still trapped somewhere—perhaps still fighting the suffocating grasp of the demon—but that part of him was fading and struggling to survive.

"You don’t get it, Sammy," Dean's voice rolled out from him, deep and cold, more like a growl than the warm, familiar tone Sam had always known. It sent a chill racing down Sam's spine. "You’re too busy trying to fight it. Too busy trying to save me."

Sam swallowed hard, the lump constricting his throat threatening to choke him. His voice wavered, barely above a whisper. "I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation."

Dean's smirk was pure malice, a cruel curvature of his lips that sent icy tendrils of fear through Sam's core. "Oh, I understand perfectly, Sam. But you’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re not the one in control anymore." With predatory grace, Dean took a step closer, each movement fluid and unnervingly calm. "You never were." Sam's heart raced as he felt the air shift between them, charged with raw energy and dark intent. He had always relied on Dean's strength and protectiveness—the brother who would stand by him through every battle, every challenge. But now, the fabric of their relationship was torn apart, leaving him stranded in a realm of uncertainty and fear.

"I’m in control now, Sammy," Dean purred, his eyes glimmering brighter, almost blinding in their intensity. "You’ve been fighting for so long, haven’t you? Fighting to save me. Fighting to get your brother back. But you’ve failed. You’ve failed because I don’t want to be saved." Sam's world wavered as the words struck him hard. His eyes widened in shock, and his breath quickened, fear mingling with despair. "You’re not... you’re not him. You can’t be."

Dean chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through the air as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against Sam’s ear. "I am him, Sam. I’m everything you wanted me to be... and so much more." His fingers found Sam’s chin, gripping it tightly and forcing their gazes to collide. "I’m the version of Dean you never thought you’d have to face. I’m the monster you can’t kill."

Sam's throat constricted, desperation flooding his senses. "I... I don’t understand," he whispered, his spirit wilting as he struggled against Dean’s unyielding hold. "Why are you doing this? Why are you letting this happen?"

Dean’s eyes glimmered with dark amusement as his grip on Sam's jaw tightened. "You don’t get it, Sammy. I’ve been trying to break free from this all my life. But you? You’ve always been the weak one. You’ve always clung to that pathetic sense of morality."

As Dean leaned closer, his lips brushed Sam’s ear while he whispered, "You’re not the hero anymore. I am." His voice shifted, low and commanding, sending vibrations of terror through Sam. "And you’re going to obey me, Sammy. Whether you like it or not."

The weight behind Dean’s words made Sam shudder involuntarily. The very fabric of Sam's reality twisted like a stormy sea, and he realized that everything he had sacrificed, everything he thought they had fought for, was unraveling. His brother—the loyal spirit he had protected throughout their treacherous journeys—had been replaced by a being of darkness.

"I tried to save you, Dean," Sam muttered through clenched teeth, the effort to maintain his courage making his voice quake. "I tried."

Dean's cruel smirk deepened, taunting and victorious. "You didn’t try hard enough, Sammy. You never do. And now you’re mine. I’m going to make sure you understand that."

As Dean’s fingers traced the outline of Sam’s neck, every touch sent electrifying chills of dread cascading down his spine. "You belong to me now," Dean whispered, his voice dripping with dark promise, "And I’m going to make sure you never forget it."

In that moment, Sam's world faded to a blur as he closed his eyes, feeling the weight of utter hopelessness crush him. His body betrayed him with a shiver, and he realized he was trapped—no escape, no salvation—for his brother was lost in the abyss of darkness, and the relentless grip of the demon that now wore his face held all power.

Dean chuckled darkly, his hand gliding to Sam's shoulder, grip solid as iron. "I don't need you to understand, Sammy," he purred softly, the words smooth and sinister. "I just need you to obey."

As the walls of the cabin seemed to close in around him, suffocating Sam in shadows, he felt utterly isolated—alone in the grasp of his brother’s new, terrifying reality. His heartbeat echoed like thunder, a sound filled with confusion and fear. For the first time in a long while, he felt lost, unsure of what to do next. Who was he now? And who was Dean?

That disorientation, that disconnect—perhaps that was the worst part of all. The monster that had taken his brother stood before him, a sinister mirror reflecting everything he had ever loved, everything he had fought for. And there was no going back.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story, feel free to leave a comment or share your thoughts. I’m always open to taking requests for any ship or prompt, so don’t hesitate to reach out with your ideas. I love creating more dark, twisted, and romantic tales for you all!

#yandere #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #dean winchester #possessive behavior #sam winchester #samdean #wincest #weirdcest

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