#return of the duck puns! (not that they ever left us) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riahlynn101 · 1 year ago

Text

"A Facade of Indifference."

Summary: Undertaker has had many identities, but Cedric K. Ros will forever be his favorite.

Trigger warnings: nothing is super explicit, but there are mentions of canonical character deaths. One of which includes a child.

A/N: For this story - O!Ciel = Fenian, R!Ciel = Ciel

In his long life, Undertaker has gone by many names.

His original name, lost to time and memories he’d do anything not to recall.

136649, the number assigned to him by the higher ups.

Silver fox, by his coworker.

But truly, his favorite name, the only name that has ever mattered to him, was Cedric K. Ross.

He’d introduced himself as such to Claudia Phantomhive, flustered by her beauty and wit. The name was less a clever pun on his end, and more a scramble to tell the beautiful debutante something, anything so she didn’t think him daft.

It had been-at that point-close to twenty years since he had destroyed Shinigami headquarters. Occasionally he’d catch a glimpse of a death scythe, and he’d have to stop what he was doing to duck into a shop. Quite annoying, but headquarters hadn’t really made an effort to come collect him. If he knew better, Cedric might have said that they were scared of him.

But, still, it didn’t hurt to keep a low profile.

Getting married to a noble was the exact opposite of that. The queen’s watchdog, at that. His hatred for the hag knows no bounds. Ironically, her audacity also knows no bounds. So, maybe it balances out. Somehow.

Marrying into the Phantomhive family is akin to signing your own death certificate. It’s dangerous and deadly, and Claudia tells him over and over that she won’t resent him for leaving. That she would forgive him everything if he didn’t want to risk his life.

But Cedric never cared much for living anyway.

They wed, and barely a year later, Vincent was born.

Holding his son for the first time (and really all the times after that) was an experience he looks back on with a gentle sort of fondness. And that fondness only grew tenfold as his boy grew older.

And then, two years later, in the middle of January, his daughter was born. Francis took more after him in looks than her mother, but she was still undeniably Claudia’s daughter. From the time she could speak, she was ordering her brother to behave. Her strength and courage, which grew day by day, made his heart swell with pride. He did everything in his power to encourage her, including giving her fencing lessons (which his dear wife had not been entirely pleased with).

There’s no words to describe how much he loved his family.

And that, that love, made him worry.

Love is a weakness his higher-ups might use against him. The idea of his clever, beautiful Claudia, and their two (still young) children being harmed, made panic well up inside him. He couldn’t let that happen.

He wouldn’t allow that to happen.

So, he left them.

Claudia was the sole breadwinner anyway, and the children had Tanaka to tend to them. He left only a note behind, making a vague excuse as to why he had to leave them.

He left England behind, choosing to travel the world. Cedric fights the urge to return to his family, to check in on them. He celebrates each of their birthdays and his and Claudia’s anniversary with a baked good.

Life wasn’t great then, he missed his family so much it physically hurt, but it was for the best he stayed away.

And then, while in the middle of a trip to France, he got news of Claudia’s death.

Cedric had known loss long before that moment. Before becoming a grim reaper and long after. It was hard coded into his very being, the knowledge of life and death.

But it wasn’t until that moment that he understood the grief that comes with that very same loss. That all encompassing, suffocating feeling of heaviness. Of loneliness.

Of the hard, cold truth, that his decision to leave his family might have, in the end, been the very thing to damn them.

He returned to England, but not as Cedric, father of Vincent and Francis Phantomhive. No, that wouldn’t do. How could he call himself their father when he was the very reason their mother was dead.

Cedric kept to the shadows, tinkering with life and death itself. He watched with an aching heart, as his son became earl. The Queen’s Watchdog just like his mother before him.

But Cedric has never been one to be content with simply watching, so he crafted an identity. One that fit his morbid curiosity with all things death.

The Undertaker.

His hair-which he neglected in the months following Claudia’s death-hide his face, his identity. He works his way into his son’s graces by offering up information, and soon Cedric Undertaker found himself among the Phantomhives’ closest associates.

His children didn’t recognize him, or at least were excellent at pretending they didn’t. It hurt, a little, but he was content with finally seeing them in-person. Alive and well.

Francis married first. Thankfully out of the Phantomhive line, but still under the queen’s immediate demand. Alexis-for all his faults-seemed nice enough, and he was hopelessly in love with her. And she-in return-was just as in love with him.

And, while it was hard watching his daughter get married, the pure happiness she radiated put his wary mind at ease.

Her happiness only grew when she gave birth to Edward. His first grandchild, though he wasn’t allowed to share in the joy of the new arrival. Not because Francis didn’t trust him, no not at all. He….just couldn’t bring himself to hold something so precious and small and-

Elizabeth was born a few years later, just as small, just as precious as her brother before.

Vincent married second, to a beautiful but sickly young woman, Rachel. By then, Undertaker was used to his new identity. He grew close to his son, but maintained just enough distance for plausible deniability.

When Rachel fell pregnant, his son shared his worries with him. His usual cocky, confident persona fell away, showing all the hurt Cedric left behind.

It seemed, even with Tanaka and Claudia, his son (and most probably his daughter) needed him. He vowed to be a better father, a better grandfather even if it was from the shadows, under a different name.

The twins were born a few months later. Both somehow even tinier than their cousins. This time, though, he pushed all his worries aside to hold one of the twins.

Ciel and Fenian. One and the same. But Ciel-older than his brother by a mere five minutes-was announced the heir to the Phantomhive name.

Meanwhile, Fenian-who didn’t seem to cry as loud as his brother-was pushed into his arms. His pathetic attempts at crying out instantly ceased. Big blue eyes, just like Lady Rachel’s, stared up at him.

Then and there, he made another vow, a promise. To protect his grandchildren no matter what. To preserve their innocence and curiosity.

His grandchildren grew quickly. The twins-mirror images of one another-became harder and harder to tell apart. At least, for most people.

For him, though, it was extremely easy to pick apart who was who.

Ciel reminded him of Vincent - sharp features that he would no doubt grow into, a silver tongue, and an intelligence that rivaled most adults. He embodied what an heir of Phantomhive should be.

And little Fenian. All soft features and big eyes. He took more after his mother's side, particularly her red haired sister (Angeline, if he remembered correctly). He inherited his mother’s sickness, and his aunt’s painful shyness and bookishness. Only his love for chess and his physical appearance being so similar to his brother’s denoted him as a Phantomhive.

But the character he crafted shouldn’t care that the twins are two separate people. The Phantomhive family is a blob of faceless members, all tied together by either blood, a last name, or both.

He kept up the facade of indifference, not caring to differentiate between the twins out loud. But, in his head, while reading them a book, or holding the blanket in place so they could have their photo taken, he couldn’t help but refer to each of them by name.

And then, the massacre happened.

He wept for hours, over the broken, ruined remains of the estate. His son and daughter-in-law were nothing but ash by the time he could rummage through the wreckage. The twins were gone too, though most likely still alive.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing.

He packed his wagon with all the bodies that weren’t horrifically burnt. A project he’d been working on needed more test subjects.

Undertaker spends the next few weeks working day and night to find the twins. Reports of children’s bodies being dumped on the sides of roads come flooding in, but

no one does a single thing.

The queen, with her bleeding heart, that she just loved to wax poetic about, does nothing.

He traced the reports back to a cathedral. The building was old and worn, likely abandoned by the church years ago. Shinigami stand around, watching the building. They chat idly among themselves, as if the most depraved actions aren’t being done to the children inside.

That apathy, the disconnect from the pain and suffering, was one thing Undertaker would never miss from his days in retrieval.

But them being there meant he couldn’t burst in and save them. If even one recognized him, then it would be game over. No one else would be coming to save the twins. The police refused to act, even with the amount of evidence Undertaker sent them (under a different name, of course), and their family was in shambles.

Unfortunately, by the time he could sneak past, it was already too late.

Ciel was dead, soul gone. And Fenian’s soul was damned, signed over to the leeches of leeches, a demon.

He saved his grandson’s body, carrying him from the burning wreckage of the cathedral. Blood and grime clinging to him like a second skin.

Fenian became Ciel, and was crowned earl of the house of Phantomhive. Her majesty either not noticing or caring enough, made the traumatized ten-and-a-half-year-old her watchdog.

The only thing Undertaker hated more than her, was the demon slowly eating away at his grandson’s soul. Not his physical soul, of course, that bit would come later. But his spirit, his kindness and generosity. The hope and child-like spark in his one uncovered eye.

It pained him, but he had a character to play and a plan to see through. If all went well, the demon wouldn’t be bothering Fenian for long.

He offered up information when prompted, though he never made it easy. It’s surprisingly easy to annoy the little earl, but it’s a necessary evil to ensure neither the demon, nor his grandson suspect him of anything.

It worked. Maybe a little too well, because the look his grandson sent him could only be described as betrayed.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. How much trust had the little Phantomhive put in him?

Too much, was the answer. And somehow, not enough.

His plan went awry. Everything became jumbled, snowballing until he’s watching Fenian plummet thirty feet downwards. His mourning chain, the one containing the last remaining piece of his Claudia (of his friends murdered in cold blood by her royal highness). Through the chaos the little earl and he made eye contact.

For a singular moment, he was back in the nursery, holding his grandson. Little Fenian, who was never supposed to amount to much. Tiny and sickly and a pale comparison to his already more lively older brother. Eyes of bright blue that once held hope and promise.

Eyes that now stare up at him in fear, yes, but also in acute curiosity, locked on his mourning chain.

He allows the little Phantomhive to take it. It’s his greatest treasure, but he’s sure his grandson will take excellent care of it. Besides, isn’t passing things down what a grandparent’s supposed to do? And he isn’t much worried about losing it anyway, after all, he’s quite certain that they’ll be meeting again very soon.

#cross posted on ao3 #black butler fanfiction #ciel and undertaker #Undertaker is Cedric K. Ros

10 notes · View notes

muriel-not-the-dim-one · 1 year ago

Text

From the Journal of Muriel, 37th Scrivener, Assistant Bookshop Keeper to Mr. A Z Fell Entry #2

I walked outside to sweep the walk as I closed the bookshop and found a pair of sunglasses and a “cd” as Maggie called it in the gutter.

She didn’t really like them, she preferred “records”.

She said Mr. Fell didn’t have anything in his shop to play the “cd”.

She gave me a “record” that was the same name as the “cd”.

I put it on Mr. Fell’s player…………..and put the sunglasses on………..

youtube

Only love can make it rain

The way the beach is kissed by the sea

Only love can make it rain

Like the sweat of love birds laying in the fields

Only love can bring the rain

That makes you yearn to the sky

Only love can bring the rain

That falls like tears from on high

On the dry and dusty road

The nights we spend apart alone

I need to get back home to cool, cool rain

I can't sleep and I lay and I think

The night is hot and black as ink

Ooh God, I need a drink of of cool, cool rain

Love, reign o'er me

Rain o'er me, over me, o'er me, oh

Love reign o'er me

Love

Shax was now a Duke of Hell, Furfur was promoted as well, and they were busy! They all knew Heaven was planning one hell of a coup (no pun intended) and with Aziraphale running Heaven, at first they thought it would be an easy defeat. But the back channels (that obviously doesn’t exist) was burning up with rumors. Aziraphale was thought to be coming to Hell, himself, to fight the demons. No Angel, Archangel or not had EVER come to Hell to start a war. Even when Aziraphale used his halo, it was to protect the humans and Jim/Gabriel. Now the rumor was, he would destroy the humans just as uncaring as he would kill the demons. There was definitely a change in Heaven.

If you asked any demon about Crowley, they would just look at you and walk away. They had been warned. He did not want his name mentioned. AT ALL. He refused the title Grand Duke of Hell and all others they wanted to bestow. After Beelzebub and Gabriel left, he was never questioned about his involvement. Even Hell knew not to mess with Crowley.

He was seen time to time in different places. A farm in Edinburg, with a human that was always properly good. In Rome wandering the ruins. Feeding frozen peas to ducks. Driving his Bentley through London at breakneck speed.

Drinking Talisker at a pub, a full glass of sherry across from him, always untouched. Screaming and railing at the heavens drunk out of his mind, never getting answers, until finally falling into a tortured slumber that he hoped he never awoke from.

He thought of going to Soho to see how Maggie and Nina were. To see how Muriel, that sweet Angel that Metatron called dim, was getting on in the bookshop. The Metatron, oh how he hated that bastard. He knew everyone in Hell and there was no one as evil as that bastard. But he just couldn’t bring himself to go there. The pain more than he could bear.

He drank to excess constantly. It was the only way to get the memories to quiet in his head. The beautiful white-haired Angel torturing both his waking hours and allowing no sleep devoid of painful memories.

The touch of his hand, accidentally brushing against his. The deliberate caress of Aziraphales hand on his chest, around his waist. The taste of his Angel on his lips. He felt Aziraphale press into him, felt him return his kiss, if only for a moment.

He had watched Aziraphales face when he bared his soul to him. The confusion, the fright. He kept slightly shaking his head no, but Crowley kept going. He had to get it out, had to tell him. He couldn’t let him leave. They couldn’t take him. Not now. Not when Aziraphale finally, fully grasped the grey area. Whatever that son of a bitch said to him changed everything.

He looked up from the Bentley steering wheel. He was in Soho. The Bentley had parked itself. Right here. Right in front. The shades were pulled, the muted light coming through. His chest felt like cement, like he would never catch his breath again. His fingers reached for the Bentley keys. He needed to leave. Now.

He hadn’t felt like this since Satan had come for Adam. The look on Aziraphales face, knowing he had to stop time, if only for a moment. Why didn’t he do that when he kissed Aziraphale? Just a moment in time.

There were many moments he wished he would have stopped time. Breakfast at the Ritz, drunken nights at Aziraphales, laughing until Aziraphale cried and begged him to stop talking about those damn unicorns and his fascination with ducks. The open look of love on Aziraphales face so many times.

The night he asked Aziraphale to stay over after the bookshop burned. Aziraphale was worried, he could tell by his face, his hands. Crowley physically hurt when watching Aziraphale wring his hands.

They got on the bus, that would take them to London. Crowley, never hesitating, took Aziraphale’s hand in his. “I won’t let you fall Angel.”

“We need to come up with a plan. Agnes has never been wrong Angel, you told me so yourself.” They decided swapping bodies was the best idea, especially since Agnes said to “choose” their faces wisely.

After swapping bodies and Crowley laughing at Aziraphale for complaining the pants were too tight, he realized why Aziraphale loved his clothes. They were so soft, so very comfortable (except for that damn tartan). Perhaps it was just because they had been against Aziraphale just seconds before they were next to his skin.

Between the wine, the day they had gone through and not being able to look at Aziraphales beautiful face, only his own looking back at him, he needed some sleep. If only for a couple of hours. He told Aziraphale he could have the bed and he would rest in the chair. Two reasons for this. He needed Aziraphale to be comfortable and he need to be on guard to protect him should any of eithers lot come looking for them.

Aziraphale refused to take Crowleys bed.

“No, I’ll be fine in the chair. You need to rest Crowley,” Aziraphale softly said.

“Then I’ll curl up here on the desk Angel”, Crowley almost cooed at him, “I’m not leaving you.”

Crowley decided to do something that could completely blow up in his face. But he couldn’t stop himself. He spread Aziraphales wings. Aziraphales eyes opened wide. He had no idea his wings were so beautiful. The only wings he looked on as beautiful were Crowleys. The black so deep and rich it was almost the Indigo of Crowleys nebula. The grey and silver streaks glittering.

Aziraphale stood and spread Crowleys wings wide, the smile on his face, or Crowleys face, as bright and beautiful as his own.

They took a tentative step towards one another.

“Angel”, the sound softly, lovingly hanging in the room.

“Crowley”, the soft, lustful need taking both their breaths.

Their wings wrapped around each other as if perfectly made to fit together. They caressed and stroked each other’s wings, whispered promises into each other’s ears. Promising to always be there, no matter what. Lost themselves in each other’s eyes, and as angels can, floated inches above the floor, wrapped in love.

The tears burned his cheeks. Why, since he was a demon, did he still have holy water for tears? He supposed it was for this purpose. To torture him. He turned the key in the Bentley but it refused to start.

“Come on, I know what you’re doing.”He tried again, but the Bentley refused.“Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” Even the Bentley was working against him. He sighed and opened the door. May as well get this over with now, he thought, his glasses and a cd falling into the gutter.

Crowley fell to his knees, the memory crushing him. I can’t. I. Just. Can’t. Breathe.

I had to pull the sunglasses off. I couldn’t breathe anymore, even though I knew I didn’t need to. 💔

#crowley #good omens #aziraphale #muriel #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #Muriel’s journal entry 2 #muriel assistant bookshop keeper #Spotify #Youtube

6 notes · View notes

its-kall-the-clown · 3 years ago

Note

Mk making valentines for everyone is something I'd like! The fluff aspect would be so cute qwq

Happy Valentine's day!! this was fun to write!

Valentine Traditions

Rating: G

Valentine's day was the best in MK’s opinion! Ever since he was adopted by Pigsy and Tang it became his favorite holiday. One of his cherished memories as a kid (really he was 16 but that's not the point) was all three of them sitting around the kitchen table making homemade Valentine cards for his class.

He remembers being covered in glitter, paste, and several shades of red paper shavings. Complaining that he was too old for this 'kiddy stuff'. And at the time he fully believed that. But Tang insisted it be fun and Pigsy went along with anything Tang wanted to do so that's what they were doing as a family.

And the more poorly cut-out hearts Pigsy made, and the more sappy puns tossed around, plus the music playing on the radio and the heart shape cookies Pigsy made...it eventually got MK into the spirit.

So now it was a tradition. Every Valentine's day they would sit around and make fun cards together with lace and hearts and glitter as a family.

Except for this year.

MK sighs and rests his head on his elbow at the kitchen table in Pigsy's and Tang's apartment. This apparently was a big anniversary for them and Pigsy's surprised Tang with an all inclusive resort vacation for the weekend. Leaving MK to glumly sulk and housesit while the lovebirds had a fantastic vacation together.

the delivery boy wishes he could say he was mad at them for leaving him all by his lonesome. But how could he be when he saw the love in their eyes as they packed? They deserved vacation to themselves at the very least. Especially after what MK put them through when he became the monkey kid.

He glances at the empty kitchen table in front of him. Tomorrow would be Valentine's day officially. And normally by now, the whole table would look like a battlefield from a dimension of paper and glitter acting as viscera.

He pushes away with a huff. There was no point in just sulking in the kitchen. Might as well sulk in bed where it was at least warm under the covers.

He kicks an imaginary can on his way out of the kitchen and passes the front door. Where his skeleton jumps out of his skin when the doorbell rings suddenly. Pigsy and Tang were gone….and MK wasn't expecting any guests….so who?

The doorbell rings again, this time insistently and he scrambled to answer it, only making sure to grab the staff leaned up against the wall first in case it was demons looking to pick a fight.

He takes a deep breath, his knuckles tightening around the staff. And then he flings the door open with a war cry on his lips.

Instead of the assassin like he's expecting. It's an ambush.

An ambush of rose petals and strawberries smelling cookies.

"Ah, thanks MK! I wasn't sure I could get my spare key out with my arms full!" Mei, states lifting what appears to be a basket full of paper roses in one hand and a sleeping bag in the other. Upon her back looks like her overnight bag too. She takes advantage of his stunned state and places everything into his arms.

Right behind her squeezes Sandy with his own box of craft supplies and what he assumes is a Tupperware of cookies. Sandy ducks his head through the doorframe with a cheerful 'pardon the intrusion~' before also making himself at home.

"What's going on?" MK asked, thoroughly baffled by his friend's presence at his doorstep.

"We're here to make Valentine cards!" Sandy boisterously yells from the kitchen he can hear the radio there also turned on suddenly and the muffled show tunes Sandy liked, starts to play.

"I don't understand. How-"

"Pigsy and Tang texted us, way before they left for their trip asking if we would take their place to keep the tradition alive.~" she totes proudly doing a little dance in place

"Oh-oh! And look who I brought!!" She momentarily dives out of view and there is the sound of a struggle before she returns with an arm thrown around a disgruntled fire demon.

"Ta-da! Red's parents are gone too so he wanted to hang too!"

"For the last time you putting a bag over my head and kidnapping me is not wanting to hang out" he huffs squirming out of her grip and straightening his coat down like the regal prince he was. MK knows Mei well enough to not be certain if he was joking about the bag on his head. Seems like a legit action she would commit.

"Well your already her sooOOO" she pushes the demon through the doorway, he trips over the threshold and lands against MK's waiting for chest and arms. She skips by with a wink leaving the sputtering demon to hiss while MK tries to let his brain catch up with the situation.

He steadies Red Son in his arms and for a second he thinks he imagined a dusting of blush on his ears.

The fire demon clears his throat and takes a step back creating distance between them while MK also tried to hide his blush.

Curse Mei and her ability to hold alcohol better than him. He always spilled embarrassing secrets (like his crush on Red son) while drunk and she always remembered the next day.

"Do you have tea in this dump?" Red Son huffs with a nose to the air. MK chuckles and puts a hand on his shoulder leading him in.

"We got more than that~"

----------

An hour later the kitchen table is a battle zone. All manners of craft supplies, including Sandy's pastels and watercolors, were spread across the expanse of the table (and some on the floor.)

Tea was brewed, and MK got into the liquor cabinet to add it into his herbal drink. His chest felt light after the second drink and he's certain he's got flushed cheeks from the burning liquid. Red is sporting a similar flush across his face, his movements a little more dramatic and fluid. Even his fiery attitude seemed to mellow out and he even made some half-hearted Valentine cards.

Everyone was having a grand time and even at some point, Red leaned against MK's shoulder with a whine, complaining that MK's cards looked better than his. He also demanded that MK help him in a slurred state. Sandy and Mei had already finished and migrated to the living room to drink and eat more cookies together.

MK agreed to help, with a giggle leaning into his space to help hold lace down while the demon glued it down. Their fingers brushed a few times leaving MK a blushing mess.

He's glad he has the alcohol to blame at least for the added color in his cheeks

"Looks good!" MK declares when the red heart with flaming glitter that spelled out 'hot' was completed. They tried to put a 'your hot' but found Red was lacking the skills and coordination to spell that out in glue. So they just went with 'hot'. Honestly, MK found it hilarious.

Red Son raised it up over his head to examine it like it was a counterfeit bill. His tongue stuck out the side a bit as the cogs of his brain finally caught up. A wide smile spreads across his face and he nods proudly.

"It's perfect. Superb to all valentinessss!" He declares with a small hick. He then holds it out to MK with a swaying body. MK feels like maybe the alcohol on his own system was affecting him because it took him a full minute to realize Red was giving it to him.

"F-for me?" MK asked, blushing and shifting in his seat.

Red Son frowns and starts to retract his hand. "If you don't want it-"

"No!" MK snatches it out of Red's hand before he can change his mind.

"No, I want it." MK reiterates hiding his face behind the poorly made card.

Red son extends his open palm and waits. "Now give me mine." He demands with a frown on his face that reminded MK of a pouting toddler. MK honestly didn't make Red one. Thinking he had no feelings for him he tried to avoid the embarrassment of rejection.

But Red is still waiting with his drunk buzzed-out face.

MK thinks fast and places his hand into Red's, lacing their fingers together.

"This is mine…" he mutters with a blush. The demon examines where their hands are connected and then nods, seeming satisfied.

"A fair trade. I will treasure it." He brings the hand up to his mouth and places a drunken kiss on it. MK doesn't think he can get any redder. Even the cardstock paper and tissue roses can't compare to him.

"Hey! Tang and Pigsy are on the phone!!" Mei announced, skidding into the kitchen from the living room with her phone up. "Come say hi dorks!"

She exits just as quickly, either completely missing the fact Red Son and MK were holding hands, or she simply doesn't care to point it out.

With great regret, the demon removes his hand from MK's and he misses the burning heat instantly. With a wobble and MK's help, they make it back into the living room. Mei has her phone propped up against some books while everyone crowds into the video call.

Pigsy and Tang already have leis around their necks and wear those corny matching couple shirts.

One says "if lost, return to Pigsy" with a cartoon pig underneath. And funnily enough, Pigsy's says "no returns or exchanges".

"Dad! Dadsy!" How's your trip?" MK excitedly sits between Mei and Red, the demon leaning into his side.

"It's been fantastic! The island is so beautiful~" Tang croons leaning onto Pigsy's shoulder, a fruity cocktail in hand and coconut shrimp in the other. They seemed to be living their best life judging by how relaxed they both look.

"Sorry, you had to do our family tradition without us kid," Pigsy speaks and MK shakes his head quickly.

"Don't be. I've had a lot of fun today!" And he meant that too. Today was perfect. And even if his dads weren't here at least he had a good time.

"Don't have too much fun," Pigsy states with a click to his jaw, eyes growing suspicious at the demon that seemed attached to MK's side. MK chuckles and blushes a little, not helping his case.

His cheeks hurt from how hard he's smiling when he answers, his chest full of joy and love.

"No promises~"

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #freenoodle shipping #spicy noodle shipping #valentines day #wrtting prompts #this was super fun and cute!#will post on a03 latter

38 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Text

New Enemies, New Alliances (Sweet Betrayal Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic description of injuries/death, violence, grief, blood, manipulation

Word count: 3,661

(A/N): Things are starting to get spicy, folks!

“Nice job today, I think you’d actually put up a fight in battle now,” Dream grabbed your hand and helped you up. You basked in the compliment, they were few and far between. Now, if you didn’t pass one of the Badlanders by accident, Dream and Lucius were the only ones to recognize your work.

You brushed off your training clothes and smiled to yourself when you saw Lucius move to pat you on the back before stopping himself. He’s been around for a month now and he still isn’t used to not being able to touch anyone. You remembered that when he was alive, physical touch was his love language. It must be killing him to not touch anybody.

“Yeah! I’d hate to be on the other side of your sword, homie!” You have no clue why he started to call you ‘homie’, he hated that word when he was alive. Faintly, you supposed that he must’ve learned it sometime between after he died and when he was looking for you as a ghost.

“Thanks, guys,” you fiddled with the handle of your sword before swinging it over to rest on your shoulder. The walk home was filled with Lucius and Dream exchanging terrible puns, much to your exasperation. Out of all the things he could’ve kept in his personality after he died, it just had to be his love for puns.

As the days passed and the war’s climax drew closer and closer, stress was increasing in the White House. Schlatt had become far more paranoid of traitors in the midst of the remaining cabinet, and truth be told you were also growing more paranoid. It was like you and Schlatt were the only ones completely loyal to Manberg anymore.

Lucius had increasingly grown worried for your well being, always trying to push you to go to bed early and urging you to distance yourself from Schlatt. In your opinion Lucius was insane for even suggesting the latter, Schlatt was everything to you. Without him, you’d be nothing.

“I really don’t-”

“Lucius, drop it,” you hissed out, rubbing your forehead and returning to your work. You needed to get this paperwork done as soon as you could, otherwise Schlatt would have your ass.

“I’m not going to ‘drop it’, (y/n). You need a break! All of this,” he swung his arms around to gesture at your office, “isn’t you.”

“You don’t understand, Lucius,” you bitterly chuckled and threw your quill down onto your desk. The ink that was on the tip splattered over the desk, staining the birch wood black. “This,” you gestured towards the office and walked over to the window. Lucius followed you and looked out at the city. You clasped your hands behind your back and smiled fondly at the sight of the endless buildings. “This is me.”

“I know you, you aren’t this- this brutal or bloody insane!” Lucius tried to put his hands on your shoulders but stopped himself, settling for crossing them across his chest. “You’re caring, funny, ambitious, and most importantly agreeable! Now, if someone even slightly crosses you, your first thought is revenge.”

“That person was a coward through and through. Aren’t you happy that I’m finally standing up for myself?”

“Standing up for yourself? Standing up for yourself? You get stepped on constantly by that ram asshole that you call a father, you call that standing up for yourself?”

You spun around to face him, looking down at his face with a harsh glare, “you have no right to bring Schlatt up, he’s done everything for me while you were just galavanting around the SMP doing Ender knows what! He’s the one that took me in. He’s the one that cared for me. He’s the one who made me who I am today. He’s the one that made me less of a coward.”

“Are you serious? He’s the one that completely fucked up your life! When was the last time he’s said anything that bordered on nice to you? When was the last time he said he loves you? I just want the best for you, (y/n),” he ran a hand through his hair and looked up at you in desperation and frustration. “You wouldn’t be this mentally unstable or this disfigured if you would’ve just stayed away from him like I told you to do when I was alive.”

“You clearly don’t know what’s best for me if you’re too blind to know that Schlatt changed me for the better,” you scoffed to yourself. “That person left the second I killed you.”

You watched as his already pale skin blanched impossibly and his eyes widened in horror. “You- you what?”

So he doesn’t remember his own death? How interesting.

“You don’t remember? You were my first kill, I can still remember the crunching sound your skull made and how warm the blood that splattered on my face was when I drove that pickaxe through your forehead. The power I felt after I came to terms with the fact that I just took someone’s life? Exhilarating.”

You smirked down at his terrified face, taking great pleasure in the fear he felt. He took several steps back from you, almost tripping when his heel caught the edge of the carpet. Grinning, you followed him until he was pressing himself up against the wall. You leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like it before. You were my first friend and my first kill, kudos to you.”

He ducked out of your presence with haste and distanced himself from you, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. He stuttered out a response, “do you even regret it?”

Regret was something you always pushed deep into your subconscious, “regret is for losers, winners own up to everything they do,” Schlatt’s voice echoed in your mind. You didn’t like thinking about your regrets, however the delicious fearful tone that shook Lucius’ voice was too alluring to ignore. He deserved every single ounce of the fear that racked his body, the argument that had raged on previously still filling you with anger. You’d humor him for now.

You certainly regretted it when you first killed him prior to losing your first life, if losing your first life is anything to go by. You hadn’t even done it on purpose; it was simply a freak accident in an abandoned mineshaft. You didn’t know that when you and Lucius discovered it that you’d leave without him. You could remember exactly what happened that day.

“Luci, wait up!” You pushed yourself to run faster into the cave, chasing the short teenager. He threw his head back and laughed, “catch me if you can!”

You grinned happily to yourself, “I’ll catch you faster than you can say a damn pun!”

You followed him deeper and deeper into the cave, passing different assortments of ores and jumping over crevices along the way. The carefree laughter that bounced off from the stone walls mingling with the slapping of both of your leather boots against the floor.

Despite the sharp twists and turns, you managed to stay hot on his trail. Eventually, he led you deep into a mineshaft. That was where you couldn’t keep up with him anymore. By the time you followed him around a corner, he was nowhere to be seen. You slowly came to a stop and looked around at the dark hallways. This had to be the largest mineshaft you’d ever seen, it was seemingly endless with a labyrinth of twisting halls. You looked behind you only to be met with even more dark halls. You couldn’t even remember where you came from, everything in here looked the same.

In the distance, you heard the hissing of cave spiders and the pitter pattering of their multitude of feet on stone. You swallowed nervously and took out your pickaxe, mentally scolding yourself for not thinking to bring your sword. Every single sound made you jump out of your skin and press yourself up against the wall, preparing yourself to swing at any movement.

Eventually, you gathered the courage to start to wander the maze of hallways. You gripped the handle of your iron pickaxe in a vice grip, ready to kill any mob that would potentially sneak up on you.

“Luci, please come out. I’m starting to get scared.”

You paused to strain your ears for any potential reply, only to sigh to yourself when you heard nothing but cave spider sounds and the faroff dripping of water. With a steadying breath, you ventured further into the mineshaft.

As you passed a hallway, you saw sudden movement from the corner of your eye. Squeezing your eyes shut with a small yelp, you spun around, raised your pickaxe, and swung it down with all your might.

In an instant, you heard a sharp gasp. When you felt your pickaxe make contact with something, a sickening combination of a crunching and squelching noise accompanied the feeling of something warm splatter across your face. You peeked your eyes open to see what mob had attacked you.

Instead of a zombie or… or whatever your mind was expecting to see, Lucius stood there looking at you with his eyes bulging and his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Your hands left the pickaxe and flew up to your mouth as you stepped back in horror at what you’ve done. As soon as you dropped the pickaxe, Lucius’s body dropped with it. He fell to the stone ground limply with a thud, landing on his side with his arms and legs awkwardly sprawled out.

You stood frozen as you watched his body start to convulse before falling still completely after what seemed like hours. Nothing but the roaring of blood in your ears and the obnoxiously loud thumping of your heart in your throat was heard. You finally snapped out of your trance when you saw his body still and started to dissolve in glowing golden dust.

“No, nonononono what the fuck did I just do?!” You dropped to your knees next to his body, feeling icy dread as you saw the telltale sign of death floating from his body. Gritting your teeth, you pressed your hands over his limp arm where the majority of the dust was coming from in a desperate attempt to potentially save him. He was already losing his warmth, you could feel him rapidly cooling under your hands. To your terror, the dust merely slipped through the cracks of your fingers.

Strangled sobs left your mouth as you removed your hands and dragged his upper body onto your lap. You lifted him up and hugged him as tight as you could, once again pressing your hands over the glowing gold, trying and failing to keep his body in one piece. You hated how he was slowly lightning as his body was dissolving.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated to him like a mantra. “I’m so fucking sorry Luci, come back.”

Just before he fully left you, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, praying to whatever gods were above that he’d just wake up and laugh loudly.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he’d tease you, “I really got you good this time, didn’t I?”

He’d then realize just how terrified you were, and he’d then hold you close to him while humming your song over and over. He’d tell you, “turn that frown upside down! You’re never fully dressed without a smile.” He’d put his pointer fingers on the corners of your lips and lift it into a smile, telling you to “fake it til you make it” and that “your smile is your best asset to use against someone.”

You’d ask him in a bout of confusion, “but then you’d be vulnerable! Isn’t it better to just… hide it all?”

He’d give you that dazzling smile of his and gently tap your nose with a finger, “hiding everything behind a smile is better than being a husk of a person. I know there’s a constant happiness deep down in you, I’ve seen it and it’s absolutely beautiful. C’mon,” he’d start to jab your sides lightly, “give me a smile!”

You’d shove his hands away from you with a small, genuine smile. He’d then haul you up to your feet and lead you out of the mines, pulling you behind him as he ranted constantly about what he had planned for you both for the day with his signature blinding smile.

But that didn’t happen.

Soon enough, you were holding nothing in your tight grasp and your face was hovering midair with something coming to rest in your lap. As you pried your eyes open and saw the bloodied pickaxe that laid in your lap and the blood that covered your clothes and slicked your hands, a guttural scream ripped itself from your throat. You’ve never screamed so loudly or so intensely; you were unsure if the copper you tasted in the back of your throat was from your fried vocal cords or from Lucius.

You stayed in that spot crying until you couldn’t anymore. The full reality of the situation hit you as you finally found your way out of the cave after days of wandering. Not knowing where else you could go, you stumbled to Schlatt and Quackity’s house.

The second Quackity opened the door and saw you sobbing and splattered with blood looking like you haven’t eaten or drank anything in days, he immediately took you into their household and sat you on the edge of the bathtub. He was the one that cleaned the blood off from your face with a warm washcloth and held you to his chest after you cried out when the feeling of the warm water was too similar to the blood that had splattered your face days before.

Schlatt had been the one to coax you to eat something after you had passed out in Quackity’s arms, whether due to lack of sleep or nourishment, you didn’t know. Alongside that, he was the first one you talked to about a couple of days into your stay with them.

Though you never told them what happened to your late best friend and what you did to him, they fully supported you and slowly nursed you back to the point where you could keep yourself alive without their constant aid. Whenever you’d have nightmares of the incident, Schlatt would be quick to make you realize that you were in their guest bedroom and not deep inside of a mineshaft while Quackity would stay by your side throughout the night softly humming small tunes.

Though everything came crashing down when Philza showed up at their door one day and drugged you home, your time with them solidified your suspicions that you could be loved.

You blunk, the scene of the blood spattered stone being replaced with your office and the very boy you accidentally killed cowering in the far corner of your room. He was staring at you like you were a starving lion and he was a cornered gazelle, watching your every move vigilantly. You couldn’t blame him, he was in the same room with his murderer after all.

“...I didn’t mean to kill you; I was terrified at the time, I couldn’t believe that I killed my best friend. Hell, I even killed myself because of the guilt.”

Though a brief flash of sadness reflected across his face, he hadn’t budged from his place with his eyes still trained on you, “t-the past doesn’t matter. Do you regret it now?”

You once again paused, the question of ‘do you regret it’ circulating your mind once more. If Lucius hadn’t died that day, you wouldn’t be the person you were today; you’d still be getting stepped on by everyone. You’d still be a coward, a spineless nobody. You wouldn’t be happy.

Though you hated yourself for even thinking about this, you questioned if you were truly happy here. You had everything you’ve ever wanted here: the power that you craved, a surefire means of getting your revenge, and living with the person that had constantly supported you. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt like something was missing. Yes, you’ve felt like that your entire life, but lately it felt like a massive, evergrowing void from deep within your core was swallowing everything within you. Maybe Lucius was right. Maybe-

“Why are you hesitating?!” Your eyes snapped to Lucius, surprised at his outburst. Now instead of the petrified look on his face just moments before, a spiteful one replaced it. “Why the fuck are you hesitating?”

“Lucius-”

A bitter chuckle interrupted you, “the fact that you’re hesitating tells me everything I need to know. I really thought the real you was somewhere deep within you, but you were right! This is the real you... You really are the monster everyone says you are.”

Before you could say anything, he fazed through the door leaving you standing in the middle of your desolate office. It felt like a spike was driven through your heart, you never would’ve expected Lucius to say anything like that. Not Lucius, never Lucius.

The pleasure that coursed through your veins previously during the argument had long since fleeted and been replaced with something you vowed to never feel again: regret. Disgust hit you full force as you remembered the delight and satisfaction that filled you at the sight of his fear. Your first and closest friend that stuck with you through thick and thin, his utter fear gave you pleasure. You really were a monster, weren’t you?

A knock sounded at your door, making you jump out of your skin.

“(Y/n), it’s time for our session.” Dream’s voice sounded through the thick doors. You sighed and looked at your suit, you weren’t even dressed properly.

“I’m not ready yet, I will be in about five minutes.” Your tone wavered slightly, making you hope that Dream wouldn’t comment on it.

“Is everything alright? I’m coming in.”

The door opened to reveal Dream wearing his usual lime green hoodie and his signature smiling mask. His curls bounced as he made his way over to you and examined your face.

“You look like shit,” he mused, “you know, you don’t need that ghost. He’s just been holding you back this entire time.”

“Well,” you crossed your arms and looked off to the side, “he isn’t in the picture anymore.”

He was silent for a moment before he walked over to your couch and sat down haphazardly, gesturing for you to do the same. When you did, he hummed, “you know, Lucius isn’t the only one holding you back from your full potential.”

“Who is then?”

“Schlatt.”

Schlatt’s name sent ice through your veins, your fingers growing numb and your throat drying up.

Just as you opened your mouth to object, Dream raised a finger to silence you. “He can’t even run his own country that he claims to be so proud of. In fact, he’s making you do all his dirty work while he gets drunk off his ass, not even recognizing you for your work. Everything you’ll ever do, even if you half ass it, is always going to surpass him at his best... He’s going to fire you soon, you know.”

You felt truly helpless in that moment, “what? He needs me, he-”

“As soon as the war ends, he’s just going to toss you aside just like everyone else in your life has. Just like Philza has, and now just like Quackity, the Badlanders, and Lucius has. But…”

He turned his head towards you and tilted it slightly. You hesitated before clearing your throat, “but what?”

“I can help you. I won’t throw you out like you’re a piece of garbage; I’m not a brain dead idiot like they are. I see your potential, and you’re going to absolutely thrive if you accept my help.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “...what’s the catch?”

“Ever the vigilant one; so wary of the world at such a young age, so smart,” he chuckled to himself. “What you have to do is simple, not even a moron like Schlatt could fuck it up. I’ll do all the work here, all you have to do is pledge your undying loyalty to me. Of course, you could stay here,” he released a long sigh, “and waste your potential while simultaneously inevitably getting abandoned, or you could break the cycle by working with me and reaching your full potential; I’ll never abandon you like they all did. Are you in?”

He stuck his hand out towards you and held it in the air, waiting for you to seal the deal. You stared at it as you contemplated his offer.

Though the thought of Schlatt throwing you out crushed your heart, you wouldn’t be lying if you said you expected him to do so sooner or later. With his ever growing dependence on alcohol, his judgement has grown increasingly more clouded. The furthest corner of your mind acknowledged that he was going to abandon you sooner or later as the abuse got worse, but your conscious mind refused to even think about him not being in your life.

Maybe it was time to turn a new leaf, Dream had said that you hadn’t reached your full potential yet and everything here was holding you back. You trusted him, he had proved to be a good mentor and a good person during your training sessions. He proved to genuinely care about you.

“Well, are you in or not? I’d hate to see such potential get wasted because someone is stuck in the past.”

You slapped your hand into his and shook it firmly, “I’m in.”

His mask lifted up slightly as he smiled underneath it. He shook your hand and matched your firmness, “excellent.”

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings @smolgreenybeany @louistommosnesquickmilk @galaxios @ryxjxnnx @autumnpleaves @ravennightingaleandavatempus @0ton1n @self-righteous-dumbass @a-simp-for-block-people @fortunatelylazystranger @m1lkmandan @mirios-sunflower @ahmya-4 @shinipii @noyasblush @auroraskyfall @cryptocry @hee-hee-haw @blackstar-gazer

Gender neutral reader:

@totem-awooga @parkeepingparker @whatislifebutlemons

Sweet Betrayal:

@zefrenchturtle @smolgreenybeany @wouldyoulikesomepollen @savleftus @bonkaloid @prickypearpropaganda @marceline1212 @simp-of-newyork @wasteofspacze @mossanon @hee-hee-haw @keiarma @expir3d-m1lk @seraphsema @aiyncel @louistommosnesquickmilk @xx-smiley-xx @maelstromania @miloisagoodboy @boiciph3r @izuruamme @sticksdoesart

#jschlatt x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: blood #tw: manipulation #tw: grief #tw: death #tw: injury #tw: violence #sweet betrayal

380 notes · View notes

linksthoughtbrambles · 3 years ago

Text

A work in progress [a minimum of three, actually].

Part 25 of Link's Thought Brambles

Relax, Link.

Breathe.

Check your shirt, tunic, buckles. If you’re going to appear out there, you can’t have a single hair out of place. Not the first day.

Damn tunic’s shoulders won’t sit right. Slightly wonky seam. You should’ve worn this one on sparring day, Link. Then your best one wouldn’t’ve gotten ruined in the melee. Even mended it’s way wonkier than this one now and it’s all color-patchy.

Why the heck hasn’t the duck one returned from the laundry? Are duck droppings greasy or something? Difficult to wash out? More difficult than blood?! Maybe they thought it was so foul they were better off burning it. Oooh. That seems like some sort of evil ritual. BURN THE HERO’S CLOTHING! Aaaand shudder... Stop creeping yourself out, Link.

I could just not wear a Champion’s tunic today.

But it’ll be bad if I don’t. I can hear it already. People saying I no longer ‘feel like a champion’ or that I’ve ‘given up’ or that I ‘regret representing the Princess.’ You know. Horse-s@*#.

It must be exhausting to be the Princess. To think about things like this all the time. I’ve been here way under a year and I’m ready to run screaming into the woods. How she’s withstood it so long, I don’t know.

You have allies, now. People who’ll talk back. People who give you snails and cook you soup buns.

Which is nice.

And there are the people who’ve talked to YOU about things. Though… that isn’t always so pleasant. Kind of wish I didn’t know the extent of the bets they had going. But finding out glower-priestess was a schoolmaster in Akkala ‘til she got sacked for her nasty-ass personality is a WIN. No way I’ll be holding THAT over her head. Hahaha!!! Continue assembling an arsenal of school-based puns, Link. Guess you couldn’t be a RULER, eh?

It’s a work in progress.

If that woman ever sneezes in my presence, I will shout BLESS YOU at the top of my lungs. I have no idea if it’ll insult her or not but surprise is likely.

Oh. Oh ho ho. What if I randomly shout BLESS YOU? What would she think? That I’m blessing her with all my Goddess-granted herohood? That I’m PREDICTING a future sneeze with time-sensing hero powers? Will she walk around all day waiting for that sneeze, and when it inevitably happens will she then believe anything else I say in the future? Tempting.

Think on it, Link.

Okay. You look as good as you’re going to get. Stop rolling your shoulder. It won’t straighten that seam. Now walk out there and knock on the Princess’ door.

Walking. That’s the thing they’ll notice. My gait’s not right with all that muscle healing on the left. The ankles, knees, hips, elbows, wrists, and shoulders hurt pretty equally today, not contributing to lopsidedness. Who knew the silver lining to symmetrical joint-jamming was no limp?! Of course, I don’t get to experience that nugget of joy thanks to Vayden and his sharp sword. That dick. I have to figure out what to do about him. Greggan can’t keep him busy forever. He’s gonna throw something hot at me in the mess or try to de-shoe my horse or something.

That’s a fairly terrifying thought. Better check on Rionee later.

Be mindful and don’t overdo it today. The Princess is starting HER training. You’re just there to support her and maybe test out your own limbs a little.

Morning, Uri.

Thanks. I tried. Morning, Oron.

She’s in there now? Since when?

Yeah, that’s fine, I’ll give it a few minutes.

Opportunity to meander down the hallway and get used to walking in my boots again. I wonder if they’re talking in there or if Ria continues to be her stone-cold self. Haven’t seen her since the melee to know. That goes for most of them…

Keep to the plan, Link. Be respectful. Some people thought they had good reason to take you down a notch or fifty.

Of course, some didn’t. But you don’t necessarily know who was who.

Maybe a breath of air on that walkway below her chamber.

Wish that morning sun could hit me here. Too early. Shaded. Breathtaking view, though, even blocked by the bridge and study tower. Hebra peak is almost purple today. How does distance change colors? I bet the Princess would know.

Father’s company should be around there, ferrying scientists to and from strange old ruins and adding fortifications. A lot I don’t understand about that. Like why he’s in Hebra in the first place and not at Fort Hateno. You’d think when you left the Royal Guard you’d want to accept a post near your family.

Then again, he may be one of them again soon. This is just a temporary set of assignments to shore things up for the Calamity and to get some scientists to key locations. Wonder if they found that ancient Snowpeak citadel or if time has completely erased it… or if it ever existed at all.

Why hasn’t he come back? It’s been months. Months. He must have heard. He must have, by now. Right? He never even wrote a letter to make sure I understood, that I had to take my post even more seriously. That I had to be a hero as well as a knight. I expected that. Dreaded it. But this is worse. I know he’s written to the king a few times. Why not me? It can’t be the melee or what led to it. It’s too recent.

Maybe he just didn’t hear anything that worried him. If he thought I was doing well…

No. No, that doesn’t make sense. At least some of the Guard were horrified by me. They would’ve written to him. Told him everything. He can’t have thought I was doing well. Did I seem so hopeless he gave up?

“Thank you Ria, that will do.”

Woah.

Staring at the horizon too long. Tunnel-vision back. Close eyes, just for a moment. Stop. Just… stop thinking those thoughts. Relax, Link. You can’t read your father’s mind from 70 miles away. Ish. Breathe.

Weave retrieve leave wreathe seethe believe cleave heave.

Heavy words, those.

“Good morning, Link.”

Her balcony. She has her braid-crown today. First time since the Royal Lab. I’d gotten used to seeing her without it. ”Good morning, Princess. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll be, I suppose.”

“The weather’s turning fairly cold. We… could walk inside through the Guards’ Chamber.” Please say no please say no.

“…No need. A walk outdoors may suit me today. We’ll be out in the yard regardless.”

Good! “As you wish, Princess.” I’m not ready to walk through there, either.

“One moment and I’ll join you down there.”

Oooh, that was a nasty wind whipping around the corner. It’ll be a cold walk. Maybe I should’ve worn that padded outer tunic. Not the doublet, that looks funny with the Champion’s Tunic sticking out the bottom. Then again, I’m back with the same problem. No, I should display the blue and white the first day back out.

Here she is. In that close-fitting riding outfit that suits her so well. Eyes up, Link. And NOT off to the side like you would’ve done the last time you saw her in this. Meet her eyes. She’s smiling at you… hard not to smile back like a complete buffoon.

And there it is! The left corner of my mouth. Can’t seem to win that fight. Why is the right side easier to hold still? Is this worse? Do I look like I’m smirking at her? I can’t let her think that. Say something. Say something! “You look nice today.” AAAAH!! No, you shallow-minded concussion-addled prick! “Y-you look nice every day. I didn’t mean you don’t. And you don’t look better today-“ OH S*@( LINK WHAT THE F*@$ IS WRONG WITH YOU? “U-um I mean you do, I mean not better just different, different, you have the braids and the clips with the color that matches the- the- the- top- and you look so… official!” You are still an idiot you totally missed your own point- “And how you look doesn’t matter at all, either, it’s not your job to look nice, and I wasn’t trying to suggest that Ria does a better job than you do-“

“This has gotten away from you a bit, hasn’t it Sir Knight?”

Oooooooh. She called me Sir Knight. I’m in trouble. She has red, puffy cheeks. She doesn’t look angry, exactly, her eyebrow crease is missing, and why is she biting her bottom lip so hard?

“Pffffta hahaha- heh! Heh! Mmm… mmmhmmhmm.… Link, you do get yourself worked up.”

You have no idea!

“Hmm. Well. Let us to the training yard.”

BREATHE, Link. ReLAX!!! BREATHE. Relax!

Steps.

Ow.

OW.

“Link, are you alright?”

Ow. “Yep.” Ow. Speed up. Power through it.

“It’s alright for you to lean on my shoulder. I can bear your weight.”

“I know you can. I was surprised.”

“I was too, if I’m entirely honest.”

“I’m fine. It’s only steps. If I’d been thinking about it, I’d have tried them yesterday and been ready for-“ WHOAH, wind!

“Ahk-“

Is there a storm on its way or something?! That was some gust!

“Heh. Sir Link?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Were you afraid I’d blow away?”

“Huh? OoOh! Sorry!” We’re manhandling her, now?!

“You are forgiven.”

Get a grip on yourself, Link!

“In preparation for future dangerously strong gusts, it would be safer for you to brace my shoulders with your arm against my back rather than grappling my elbows, which are essentially hinges.”

I don’t think I took that in properly. Too busy stopping my hands from hovering around her like lizalfos claws.

Did she mean she wants me to brace her differently next time?

Was she pointing out that bracing a door by its hinges is totally ineffective, and therefore that my manhandling was not only entirely unnecessary but wouldn’t’ve worked well even if it had been? (And therefore that I am not so smart, but she’s too nice to just come out and say it so she has to tell me gently in a way that I might not even be able to figure out due to my unsmartness?).

Or is she saying she’d like me to put my arm around her shoulders?

I would very much like it to be that last one.

Very much.

She’s waiting for a response, Link. Eyebrows up. Getting higher by the second. Smiling. Cheery-looking despite the wind and the fact that it choked her a bit on her own hair.

What are you thinking, Link? Less than a week ago she couldn’t stand you. This is a thousand million times better than that. Don’t be an ingrate! Treat her with the respect she’s due, not like some schoolhouse crush. Which you’ve never had. But you can imagine what that would be like and snaking your arm around her at the first excuse is exactly the sort of creepy, egotistical thing Gio would do, and has done, and has even done to YOU. Yeah, you don’t want her to feel the way you did when that happened.

Not that she would, exactly, since the point of that was to show everyone in the village how much I looked like a girl.

“Link?”

“I- I’ll do it right next time.”

A bigger smile.

“Excellent.”

-----

Prickly.

I shouldn’t’ve agreed to this. It’s undignified. Hundreds of little bits of straw poking through the fibers of my pants. As if I didn’t already feel like someone’d pried each of my joints open and stuffed them clumsily back together. Greggan’s not wrong about my leg being weak and quivery, but I’m not sure this is better. There’s no way to comfortably rest it, I keep having to shift it, and it’s building up a real good throb. Bet I could see my heartbeat in my knee if I pulled my pant leg up.

Of course, I’m not going to try that. Because of the LOOKS.

Turn head- yep. Two more people eyeing me and suddenly they are VERY busy sparring. Hard not to wonder what they’re talking about over all that clanging and clacking. Makes my head ache more.

Also hard not to watch the Princess from this angle. I have a great view of her draw form from here, but we now know just how bad it can be if people think I’m leering at her.

He’s had her tugging on that thing way too long. Let her fire an arrow already!

I need a stretch. This thing is absurdly uncomfortable, and really I don’t need to sit down and I’m the fricking legendary hero, right, so I heal fast and am totally fine and there’s no reason for Greggan to treat me- huh? Why is he“Ah!”

“Itchy, kid?”

“… It hurts enough without getting smacked.”

“That wasn’t a smack. That was a clap on your shoulder.”

Why??

“Oh, oh ho ho, don’t give me those retriever eyes. They don’t work on me.”

But this is just my face.

“How much attention have you been paying to your charge?”

“…Enough?”

“I doubt it.”

“Wh-“

“You’re looking everywhere except at her. Your eyeline’s made the circuit of this yard at least fifteen times already, and every time it does it goes up and around her head or down to the grass in front of you before it moves on.”

“I’m watching her elbows.”

“And I’m from the Moon. If you’d really been watching her, you’d be thinking about that and not who’s craning their necks at you on the rampart.”

“There’s nothing to see yet, you haven’t even given her arrows.”

“You’re not paying enough attention, kid. Look at the bow.”

“It’s just your average-looking soldier’s bow.”

“Which I switched her to when she complained about the beginner’s bow. Missed that, did you?”

Guess I was lost in thought. Or trying to catch people’s eyes on me. Or thinking about stabby straw and how to keep it from jabbing into my man-parts. It’s loud in the yard right now, anyway. Wouldn’t have heard her if she didn’t speak up. “It’s not a surprise. She’s strong for her size. She doesn’t need to start out on a weak draw.”

“Not for a few draws. She’s done what, thirty or so?”

Well, that seems excessive. “What are you having her do that for?”

“At this point, curiosity. I told her to try it and she hasn’t stopped.”

“You can’t let her tire herself out before firing a single shot.”

“Why haven’t you stopped her, then?”

“I’m not the one training her.”

“From the looks of it, neither am I. Her form looks good.”

“What is it, a thirty-pound draw?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Well. That’s not SO heavy.”

“Not for you, but for a slight woman who’s never had to do physical labor in her life? She should be shaking with each draw.”

“Why are you telling ME this? Tell her.”

“I’m not going to tell her a damn thing. It’ll affect what she shows me. It has to wait ‘til after she’s done. What I want is for YOU to pay attention.”

“I am-“

“No, you’re watching everyone else in this damn yard, because you’re too hung up on what they think of you.”

“No I’m-!”

“Do not argue with me, kid. I’ll be back in a moment. Watch her. Not them.”

Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Does he not get that me watching her is basically what caused the melee?

“Princess?”

“Yes, Sir Greggan.”

Well, that plus a bizarre coincidence.

“How do you like that bow so far?”

Huh. I never asked her about that.

“It seems adequate.”

I can understand her going to the excavation site, but I don’t get why she’d go unescorted.

“Adequate, eh? So, it could be better.”

Or maybe I can. She was sick of me following her around.

“Yes. I’m aware that the higher the release velocity the more true the arrow will fly.”

She probably wanted a little time to herself without me breathing down her neck.

“I’d thought to brush up on my projectile motion equations yesterday, and then thought to read more regarding air resistance-“

Funny that she happened to pick the place I’d gone without her.

“-though I admit I didn’t get through all I’d meant to.”

Can’t hear her clearly. Too much noise. Maybe I should wander over there.

“So you want more speed, Princess?”

“More imparted to the arrow upon release, yes. The more force put upon it by the bow the better.”

Oooooh. OW.

“Hmph.”

“Sir Greggan?”

Why is it so much worse getting up off this bale than it was getting out of bed?!

“It sounds like you’re telling me you want more draw weight.”

“Yes indeed, but I understand that I’m merely a first-day trainee. I will happily accept your restrictions.”

What on the surface is Greggan doing?

“Phh. No restrictions, Your Highness. Here.”

He’s handing her a knight’s bow after all that?

“What do you think of this one?”

She spent all that time on one bow and he’s not even going to let her shoot with it?

“A marked improvement. May I get the feel for this one, as well?”

“… By all means. I’ll speak with Sir Link a minute.”

“Thank you, Sir Greggan.”

Wh- and he’s not having her fire this one, either? Does this make sense and I’m still too brain-damaged to understand?

“You should sit, Link. The itch is better than opening that damn wound up would be.”

…Okay… How long is he going to watch her draw THIS bow?

“You’re looking the wrong way, kid.”

“I’m confused.”

“Yes, you are--about a lot.”

That’s true, but specifically-

“You need to get over that mess in your head, Link.”

“What mess?”

“The one your bloody father put there.”

“Aaaah. No response. You know, don’t you? Started to figure it out.”

“I, uh… yeah…” But how did he know about it? “His advice doesn’t seem to work so well for me.”

“And that sentence coming out of your mouth is worth every minute of time I’ve spent with you these four months. If our Princess weren’t giving such an unusual performance, I’d be spending more of the morning on you and that beaver dam up there.”

Did he just say I have a beaver dam in my brain?

“I’d have brought Fournier over to handle the basics.”

It’s not like he could’ve meant my hair. He wouldn’t spend his morning on that.

“But it turns out… there are no basics. This is a first.”

I would, but oh NO! After all that time making sure I looked respectable this morning- my hair is everywhere. The wind!

“And Holy Hylia, you’re still not watching it. And for f&#@’s sake, kid, why the sudden rush to tidy your hair?”

Oooh, stop touching it, stop touching your hair, Link! “I-“

“Our Princess is repeatedly pulling and holding a forty-five pound draw like it’s nothing, but her appointed knight won’t watch her do it, because he’s afraid the muck-spouts on the other side of the yard and up on the ramparts might just think he’s ogling her if he does. And apparently because his ponytail is more important.”

“No, no, of course it isn’t-“

“Oh? Then stop fiddling with it.”

Yyyyr. RRrrrrrgh. But I know it’s MESSY. rrRRrRrrRRRRRRRGH.

“Agh. I shouldn’t have mentioned the hair. It’s not the point.”

“W-what is the point?”

“That you’re even more self-conscious today than usual.”

“I did just get my skull bashed four times a few days ago. Hard.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, kid.”

“And it was because I- because…. Look, I’m not imagining it and I’m not overreacting. These people judged us over nothing. Nothing!”

“Yeah. So why waste your time on them?”

“Because what they think affects us. The royal guard-“

“The royal guard is another mess your father made.”

Mess? He was their captain. So well-respected they followed his directives even after he left.

“She’s had a few minutes on the heavier draw. What do you think? Still unsurprising?”

Okay… looking… just make sure your eyes stay up, Link. Watch her form.

It IS a little weird, isn’t it? She doesn’t seem bothered at all by the knight’s bow. It’s nothing to scoff at, and not at all where I’ve seen him start people. There goes Greggan. Maybe I’ll follow.

“Got a feel for it?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Ready to try a shot?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Mm. Good. You seemed to be eyeing the targets?”

“Yes.”

“Nearest is twenty feet, give or take. Start with that.”

“Arrows?”

“Quiver, Your Highness.”

“Thank you.”

Wow. Look at her with that arrow nocked and drawn. She looks like she’s been doing that all her life. And whoops, she released already-

Uh.

“Well, look at that!”

That’s a bullseye.

“That target is so close, though—it hardly counts. Shall I try the next one?”

“By all means, Princess.”

How is he not shocked speechless?

It must be me. It’s not like I’ve ever trained archers. It must be a thing that happens sometimes, people nailing their first-

No way.

“Excellent. I assume I may try the third?”

Another one? At forty feet?

“You may try any target you wish, Your Highness.”

She’s going for the sixty.

Bullseye.

Eighty.

Bullseye.

A hundred.

…Bullseye.

“Holy f@$&.”

“Watch your language, kid.”

“You don’t watch YOUR language!”

“I do when I’m speaking of the Princess.”

She doesn’t seem to mind. She has a huge grin on. Wide, sparkling eyes. Her braid held up to the wind but the rest of her hair is everywhere. It’s the closest I’ve seen her to how she was that very first day.

“HEY OBBIE!”

DAAH!

“YESSIR?!”

You could’ve NOT yelled right next to my now pounding head…

“PULL THAT TARGET BACK! WAY BACK!"

That got their attention. The sparring’s slowing down.

Damn. Damn, that really hurts.

“Link? Are you alright?”

“Yes! I’m- I’m great-“ not about you, Link “I want to see your next shot!”

“Ehhehe.”

She just giggled, didn’t she? That’s new.

“ALRIGHT, OUTTA THERE, OBBIE, INTO THE WALL WITH YOU!”

Thank you for yelling further from me this time. Still hurt…

What is that… how may feet is that… too many, that’s how many. She’d have to aim way up and get the angle right.

Oh. That’s exactly what she’s trying to do.

The rest of them are all watching too, now. They’re not even pretending to spar.

Not rushing this time. Careful. Squinting up.

In flight.

My Goddess.

“Funny, isn’t it? You were worried that your sword didn’t seem magical. Yet it turns out you are, all by yourself.”

My Goddess!

“But- it’s not magic... I just do it.”

“I’m sure the other champions feel similarly about their abilities.”

“Princess, can you step back and try that again?”

“Y-yes, Sir Greggan.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure that terrifies you, but does it make any sense at all to bring a helpless princess into a battle with the Calamity itself?”

Of course it doesn’t. Of COURSE it doesn’t make sense.

And of course it’s another bullseye.

And here they come. All walking toward her. Haltingly, like they’re not sure they’re allowed.

“Again, Princess.”

“Yes indeed.”

I’m an idiot once more. But at least this time, I wasn’t the only idiot. This mistake was made when I was still playing with two-foot-long wooden swords.

I don’t even have to look. I know she hit her target. AHHH, the sounds their making! Ignore it, Link. Watch her. Watch her step against that back wall and send the final arrow home.

They’re all cheering. So loud! She’s not paying attention to them, though.

She's beaming at you, Link.

You have to say it. Make it clear for all of them. Just in case any of them are too thick to figure it out.

“SO, Princess!”

They’re listening.

“What was all that crap about needing to awaken your power?”

-----

Read Next: [Link is not a politician, but the king is.]

Read this fanfic from the beginning (it makes more sense that way).

Follow this link for the post list for this fic.

#linksthoughtbrambles #zelda #botw #fanfic #zelink

31 notes · View notes

fett-djarin · 4 years ago

Text

Anything

this bitch done YEET

anyway this is Boba Fett x f!Reader! I had this idea kicking around for awhile and shit finally came together and i was able to get it done!

Rating: 18+

Length: 4.1k

Warnings/Tags: SMUT, canon-typical violence (not in the smut), PiV intercourse, unprotected sex, fingering, riding, throne sex come get yalls juice, multiple orgasms, creampie, spanking, slight cockwarming?, pet names, swearing

NSFW BELOW THE CUT!

Boba Fett was an enigma. He intimidated you, intrigued you--but he didn’t scare you. Boba could be violent, occasionally cruel, but only to those who had earned his ire. You had nothing to fear.

You still remember the day he stormed into Jabba’s palace, a wrathful spectre on a mission. You had been afraid you would be caught in the crossfire, an exchange of possession through violence. But then your chains were blasted apart, scum of men dying around you instead of finding your own demise. Instead of fleeing like the other girls, you dove towards a dropped blaster and levelled it at one of the smugglers putting up a fight. This particular one had been a thorn in your side for a long time. You’d be lying if you said you felt no satisfaction watching him fall lifeless from your well-placed blaster bolt.

“Nice shot,” the woman--Fennec, you had come to learn--commented. You had turned in a panic, pointing the blaster in her direction, her own rifle coming up in an instant, aimed squarely at your head.

“Easy, girl,” the Mandalorian--Boba--had said. “We have no interest in fighting you.”

“If you mean to sell me again,” you spat, “it would be easier to kill me now.” Your fingers flexed on the blaster, and you tried to steady your shaking hands. Fennec’s aim hadn’t faltered.

“Stand down, Shand,” Fett directed the sharpshooter, who immediately lowered her weapon. He then addressed you again. “I don’t deal in flesh.” You slowly dropped your arm. “What’s your name, girl?”

That had been...a few standard months ago, now. Boba ran his syndicate under a tight fist. He had no use for slaves, and had told you you were free, even offered you credits to return home. Some of the others took his offer. You had opted to stay--your birth planet had nothing to offer you, and you did not want to try your luck as a newly freed woman with nothing to your name on Tatooine. You didn’t even have a name, really. You were called something different each time you moved; your birthname was no longer you. That person had died long ago.

“Call me anything,” you had told Boba. “I don’t mind.”

He thought for a minute, and then decided. “Mayen.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. The gruff, seemingly serious man had a sense of humor. Mayen--Mando’a for ‘anything.’ His lips quirked in a sly smirk. You liked it. Mayen it was.

“You know Mando’a?” He had asked.

“I’ve picked up things here and there,” you smiled in return.

He later on told you that you could pick your own name, you had no obligation to go by the silly pun he called you. But you had a sense of humor, and actually liked how it sounded. It was a new beginning. You decided you would keep it.

You knew quite a few languages, or bits and pieces you heard over the years. Boba had hired you as a translator, and you accompanied him to meetings with traders, smugglers, and pirates. He didn’t allow any of them to harass you. If they so much as leered in your direction, they tended to lose a few fingers or teeth, either by your hand or his. At Boba’s insistence, you now carried a blaster and a vibroblade. Fennec had been showing you how to properly aim and shoot so you could better protect yourself. He had gifted you the vibroblade as part of your payment.

Yes, Boba Fett was a hard man, but you appreciated his kindness.

His scars added to his imposing figure, and you often found yourself wondering about their origin. What he must have gone through for his skin to be marked so. You also wondered about how stupid some people could be--Mandalorians were legendary warriors, and Boba Fett had some infamy connected to his name, yet fools still picked fights they were destined to lose. His armor impressed you--and the dark stare of the T-visor when he looked your way always had something low and warm stirring in your belly.

It didn’t help that sometimes he would watch while you practiced with your blade. Your heart thundered in your ears the first time he came up behind you, chest to your back, and moved your arms into the correct defensive position. His boot also nudged your stance wider, centering your weight. It’s part of training, you told yourself. You prayed he didn’t notice the heat in your face or the way you refused to look at him. Stars, if you turned your head you could kiss him--

What could you say? He was a handsome man.

Occasionally he offered to spar with you, which was laughable. The first time you had outright refused. “I don’t want to die, thanks,” you said.

“You’re gonna have to face people bigger and stronger than you sometimes, princess,” he said the endearment mockingly.

“Most people aren’t Boba Fett.”

“You’re right about that. Still, come on, show me what you’ve learned.”

Your first fight ended miserably in about three seconds. You gave him a pointed look that said I-told-you-so, and he just shrugged. “Not bad for your first time.” Sparring became regular.

“You’re quicker than me. Use that to your advantage, stay out of my reach. Strike and retreat.”

“Arms up, but keep ‘em close--protect your body.”

“Stagger your stance, distribute your weight. Make it harder for people to knock you down.”

“Move with confidence--this is not the time to falter.”

His words of advice came with each session and stuck. After a few weeks, you could hold your own for a minute against Fett. Then five minutes. Then your sparring was like a coordinated, aggressive dance, blades flashing and deflected, ducking, dodging, weaving, spinning around each other. Once, you had even managed to disarm him, knocking the blade from his hand--you both froze in stunned surprise before Boba recovered and had you pinned to the floor in an instant.

“Very good.” He said from his place atop your legs, pride curling darkly through his voice. “But next time, press the advantage. You freeze, you die.” Now you froze for an entirely different reason--his weight on top of you caused something hot and wanting to smolder in you, his thumb gently stroking the hollow of your throat making your breath hitch. And then he was off you, pulling you back to your feet with ease.

You still couldn’t beat him--you don’t think you would ever be capable of that. The best bounty hunter in the galaxy against you? You much prefer being on his good side.

Boba had just returned from a recent bounty hunt alongside a fellow Mandalorian, having left you and Fennec at the palace. You had been helping her sort through the datalogs and contraband left behind from the previous occupants when he appeared, moving surprisingly silent for such a broad, imposing man.

“Mayen,” he called you, and you looked at him over your shoulder, having been preoccupied cataloguing the contents of the crate in front of you. He was still in his armor, adding to his bulk. The green-painted beskar gave nothing away. “I’ve got a meeting. You’ll be needed. Fennec, I sent you scouting information on the next bounty.”

You nodded, and with your acknowledgment, he turned and strode back towards the throne room. Fennec stood, brushing sand off her pants. “Careful,” Fennec warned. “Keep your blaster close. You never know how these meetings will turn out.” She patted you on the shoulder.

“Got it,” you said, adjusting your tunic so she could see the holster on your hip. It would be the first time she wasn’t there alongside you while Boba arranged deals with crime lords. Sometimes Boba would go in alone, or the both of you would attend. “Trained by the best.”

She cracked a smile at that. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to track down our next target.” She exited the storage room opposite of the way Boba went.

You gathered yourself, then followed after Boba. Entering the throne room was daunting, as the traders he was meeting with were already there and turned to stare. A few of them openly looked you up and down. Your eyes were fixed solely on Boba lounging on the throne, legs spread, seemingly completely at ease and exuding power. You strode past the group of men come to bargain, refusing to look away from the void of Boba's visor that tracked your movement. One of them muttered something as you passed that you couldn't make out, but it had not sounded pleasant. You took your place at Boba's side.

"Boba Fett, the legendary bounty hunter back from the dead," a wiry human man stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. His grin was more of a baring of teeth. "Now that you run this joint, I have a few propositions to consider--"

Since he was speaking Basic, you have to admit, you tuned out. You watched the two Twi’leks that had accompanied him, who kept throwing glances your way, murmuring to themselves. Something about them put you on edge. Of course, you never trusted the people who came to do business with Boba, but you liked this group even less.

You translated for a Rodian bounty hunter when it was his turn to speak. You noticed the Twi'leks and the first human had been getting antsy, shifting from foot to foot and continuing to eye you and Boba. The Twi'leks had never come forward. They spelled trouble. You were tense the entire time, but they reached an agreement and left without trouble.

Boba on the throne was a sight. Your mind wandered, wondering what it would be like to sit on his lap, straddle his strong thighs. You shook your head to clear it as Boba cleared his throat, drawing your attention.

"Go get some rest, little one." And with that, you were dismissed.

You touched yourself thinking of him that night. Imagining it was his fingers instead of yours bringing you to your peak. You bit your fist as you came, muffling your moans and preventing you from calling his name out into the night.

The next day, he had gone out once again. When he returned, you noted his armor had some new scratches, some of the fresh green paint chipped away. He beckoned you forward with a wave, following him to the throne room. He sat with a heavy sigh. You stood before him, waiting for his direction, when he removed his helmet and set it aside. There was a new cut on his cheek, dried blood sticking to his skin.

"You're hurt," you said, stepping forward. Boba grunted noncommittally in response, reaching into a pouch on his belt and pulling out a small container of bacta.

"Use this," his voice was gravelly and he tossed the container to you. He...wanted you to put the bacta on him? Your pulse kicked up. But you would do as he asked.

You unscrewed the lid, swiping your finger through the gel. "What happened?" You asked as you spread it as gently as you could over the cut.

"Those hunters from yesterday," he sighed. "Thought they could catch me unaware out in the dunes. Their last mistake." He chuckled. "This was really the only hit I took," he gestured to the cut along his cheek. You had finished spreading the bacta, but your hand still lingered. You were entranced, being this close to him. Your thumb mindlessly caressed his cheekbone.

"Mayen," he said your name. You met his eyes, the heat in his gaze taking you by surprise. He always had fire and fight in him, but this wasn't like that. It was wanting. Boba grasped your wrist of the hand that still held his face, his other coming up to cup the back of your head.

Then you were kissing him.

You don't know if you leaned down or if he pulled you down or if he leaned up or if it even mattered, all you cared about was his rough lips against yours. When you gasped into it, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Boba's kisses were all consuming, overwhelming--he demanded all of you, and wouldn't accept any less.

He leaned back, bringing you with him so you had no choice but to straddle his lap or be pulled off-balance. You settled along his thighs, sighing as you could now grind your center against his stiffening member. He nipped your bottom lip, breaking away to press kisses down your throat.

“Tell me, sweetheart…” he murmured, worrying a mark into the delicate skin of your neck.

You whined, rolling your hips against his. His hands clamped down like durasteel around your hips, stilling you. “Tell me. We stop if you say so.”

“I want you, Boba,” you gasped, and he rewarded you with another hickey sucked into your neck. He guided your hips back into a slow grind, thrusting up against you. The layers of clothes between you dulled the sensation, but warm waves of pleasure still radiated through you. You cradled his jaw, bringing his lips back to yours, before trailing your palms down his chest. You pawed at his chestplate and robes, making him chuckle.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased you lightly. You squeaked when he pinched your ass. “Take this off, princess.” His hands slid up under your tunic, running up and down your sides before caressing your breasts.

You lifted your arms, helping him slide your shirt over your head. Instinctively, your arms came down to cover yourself, but Boba tutted at you. “Don’t get shy on me now, mesh’la. Let me see you.” He murmured in your ear before lightly nipping the lobe, sending shivers down your spine. He encouraged you to put your hands back on his chest. You whined against him, need building in your core as he undid your bindings and continued to guide your hips in a deep grind.

Boba’s fingers crept along the waistband of your pants before diving inside. You moaned as they landed on your clit. “This wet already? Someone’s a needy little thing.” You felt your face heat at his teasing accompanied by his rough fingers circling your clit built you up even more. You hid your face in his shoulder, grinding against his hand for more of that raw pleasure. Boba suddenly pressed hard against your clit in a tight circle, making you cry out loudly and grip his robes for dear life.

“Boba, please,” you whined, lips tracing his throat, his jaw, wherever you could reach. You brought your own hand down to cup him through his pants, running your hand along his bulge. He cursed lightly in your ear as you gently squeezed him.

“Up,” he said, patting your ass. You stood, taking the opportunity to shimmy out of your pants and panties. He lounged back against the throne, taking in your form. You didn’t cover yourself this time. “Good girl. Come here.” You stepped between his spread knees and he took you by the elbow, pulling you down and turning you so your back was pressed to his chest and your legs were spread by his own. His touch returned to your clit, sliding through your slick folds to tease your entrance. You pressed your ass back against his hardness and he groaned.

His arm banded around your waist as he finally slid a finger into your dripping entrance. You gasped, head falling back to rest on his shoulder. When he introduced a second one, you began to squirm. The stretch was so good as his fingers slid within you, curling and pressing into that perfect spot that sent you soaring. You were practically riding his hand, your hips circling as his fingers moved faster and faster.

“Oh,” you gasped as he added a third, legs trembling. Your hand shot to his where it was locked around your middle, holding you against him, while your other curled up and back, turning his head so you could kiss him. Boba found that spot in you that made you clench tight around him and zeroed in with deadly precision. You felt him grin smugly against your lips as your breathing stuttered. “Boba!”

“Look at you, so desperate for my fingers. Squeezin’ me so tight, sweetheart, can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

You found yourself teetering at the edge of release. You turned your head, burying your nose in Boba’s neck. “Please, Boba, g’nna cum, please--” you gasped out. It was a good thing he held you to him, else you would have been bucking off his lap.

“Cum on my fingers, cyar’ika.”

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you tipped over the edge of orgasm, cumming hard around Boba’s fingers. Your cunt flooded with wetness, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into you becoming even wetter. If he hadn’t been holding you to his chest you would have doubled over with the devastating pulses of pleasure rocking through you from your center. He continued working you through it until you whined, pushing at his hand that still moved between your thighs, need building up in you again.

Boba brought his fingers up to his mouth and you moaned at the sight of him sucking and licking them clean of your arousal. “Taste so sweet,” he said. “Open.” You opened your mouth, and he slid his fingers inside. Obediently, you sucked on them, swirling your tongue around his fingers like you would his cock. Boba groaned. "Dirty girl."

He withdrew his fingers from your mouth and you begged. "Want your cock, please, Boba--please fuck me, please--"

"Hush, needy pet. You'll get what you want." He bit your neck, the sharp pinpricks fading into a warm buzz that made you squirm, wiggling your hips on his lap. Boba reached down between you two and shifted himself out of his robes, sliding his cock against your soaked folds. You looked down and Maker, he was thick. You were suddenly glad he made you take three fingers--you hoped you would be able to take his cock.

He rutted against you, his cock sliding through your folds and pulling breathless little gasps from you each time his head nudged your clit. Each slick drag of him against your lips coated his cock in your wetness. Boba evidently grew tired of teasing you, because he urged you up and took hold of the base of his cock, guiding it to your dripping entrance. You moaned at the feeling of his thick tip splitting you open, sinking down the first inch.

Boba's hand came around to rub little circles on your clit, making you jerk against him, his other hand caging you in by your hip. Slowly, he encouraged you to sit back on his lap, the thick drag and push of his cock working inch-by-inch deeper into you. Stars, you felt him in your fucking guts. Your thighs trembled, and when your ass touched his lap you nearly sobbed from how full you felt.

"Look at that," he murmured into your hair. "Takin' me so well, princess. Feels fucking good, doesn't it?" You clenched around him at his words, making him choke off a moan. He rubbed your clit a tick faster just to feel you spasm around him again and he laughed at your high gasp of pleasure.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it was too good--that ache, the raw sparks shooting down your legs and up your spine. Shifting the slightest bit pushed him right up something devastating inside you and you couldn't stop the wrecked moan that tore from your throat. Boba gave an experimental thrust and you nearly shrieked and lurched off of him, if he hadn't grabbed a hold of your hips and held you on his lap. You babbled senselessly, too overwhelmed as every ridge of his cock pressed your walls just right. "B-Boba, Boba, move, please--"

His big hand slapped your inner thigh and this time you did wail, the hot sting fading into a pleasant, buzzing warmth. His fingers dug in to the soft flesh hard enough that you knew there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers come morning. Then he lifted you slightly off him, cock sliding only a few inches out, before pulling you down in time with a thrust upwards, burying himself in you with a deep grind. You let out a choked moan, stars bursting behind your eyelids.

"Ride," he demanded. Your breath hitched as you scrambled for purchase, hands going to his strong thighs for support. It was sort of an awkward position, your feet barely touching the floor, requiring you to go on your tiptoes to pull a few inches off his cock. Boba's thick fingers cupped your pussy in a V shape, so every time you rose and fell they rolled against your clit. You couldn't tell if you wanted to push your hips back away or forward for more stimulation.

He slapped your other thigh this time, rubbing to soothe the sting, encouraging you to bounce on his cock faster. Your breath was coming in high, moaning pants as each drop of your hips buried him deep inside you, reaching places you never had and lighting up your nerves like a star gone supernova. Paired with his touch teasing your clit with every thrust, you weren't going to last long.

Boba's hands on your hips guided you faster, rougher--each downstroke hitting deep and holding you there for a second just to feel how full, how stuffed your pussy was of him. His thrusts up as you dropped down allowed his cock to hit your g-spot dead on, over and over. You felt yourself rhythmically clenching around him, heard his groans as your cunt strangled his cock, and you were so close to cumming again. The feeling coiled up at the base of your spine, the pleasure winding tighter and higher and ready to burst.

And then--then Boba hooked his hands under your knees, pulling your legs up so all your weight rested on where he was buried in you, and he slipped another inch further inside. You couldn't stop the sob of pleasure as he held you like this, open for him to take, and he set a punishing pace. The dull slap of skin-on-skin paired with the wet gush of your arousal around him, dripping down his balls and onto the throne, made your head tip back onto his shoulder and wrenched moan after moan out of you.

You were talking, babbling nonsense--begging, pleading for him to make you cum again. Boba tilted his hips just right and you keened as it pushed his cock right against the soft spot along your walls. Each thrust shoved you closer to the edge right until that coil inside you snapped. Your legs shook and your pussy clamped down so hard around Boba's cock that it stunted him to short, shallow thrusts as you rode it out. You distantly heard him groaning, praising you, telling you good girl, good fuckin' girl--you were spasming around him, each jolt of pleasure like a white-hot knife radiating from your core to your toes. Boba kept fucking you through it and you nearly begged him to stop--it was too much, the bite of overstimulation burning your nerves--when he pulled you down, fucking into you as deep as he could and he came with a groan of your name, cock throbbing as his release coated your walls.

Somehow, you ended up turned, face buried in his neck and legs wrapped around his waist as you trembled and caught your breath. His hands trailed up and down your spine and thighs in soothing motions as you came back down. You sighed and cuddled closer to him, the hard beskar plating cold against your bare skin, but it felt good on your overheated body.

"Made quite a mess on me, sweetheart," he said, deep voice rumbling in his chest under your ear. You just mmm'd and clung closer to him while he chuckled. It was true. Your arousal coated your thighs, dripped down onto the throne, soaked Boba's cock where it was still buried in you. Boba pulled his robe around you and stood, supporting you with his hands under your thighs. "Come on, little one, let's go to bed." You closed your eyes as he made his way out of the throne room and through the palace. He didn't drop you off in your bedroom, instead taking you to his and laying you in the spacious bed before stripping off his armor and joining you.

#boba fett x reader #boba x reader #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars #fanfic #fanfiction #the mandalorian #reader insert #no y/n #boba fett x you #boba x you #my writing

186 notes · View notes

thescullyphile · 4 years ago

Text

Flirt

Mulder let himself into his apartment, kicking his shoes off at the door and brushing stray raindrops out of his hair. Scully was right behind him, files and laptop hidden under her coat to protect them from the rain. It was still early by Mulder’s standards, barely past 5:30, and it felt a little odd to walk into his apartment while it was still light outside (and even weirder for Scully to be with him). The skylight in their basement office had been dripping determinedly all day, and not even Scully’s above-average tinkering abilities had been able to do much to staunch the flow.

The drip, drip of the water into their office trash can had been about the most distracting thing Mulder had ever heard. By the time 5:00 rolled around, he had done approximately two hours worth of work and lost six pencils to the styrofoam clutches of the ceiling. He suspected Scully had been as distracted by him as he had been by the leak, so he was surprised when she took him up on his offer to finish their work at his apartment. He hadn’t even had to bribe her with an offer of dinner, though he fully intended to.

Now they were sitting facing each other on opposite sides of the couch, typing diligently as some poor delivery man braved the rainy streets to bring them Pad Thai. The side of Scully’s foot pressed warmly against his ankle, and frankly it was embarrassing how much he liked it. She yawned and shut her computer. “Alright, I’m done with the expense report.” Right on cue, a knock sounded at the door.

Scully got up, waving Mulder to sit back. “I’ll get it, you need to finish your report anyways.” She padded off into the entryway and Mulder turned his attention back to the screen. Then he heard something suspicious. Scully laughed.

Mulder’s hands froze mid word as he tried to hear what she was saying, but to no avail. When she returned, food in hand, he was looking at her curiously. “Agent Scully, don’t tell me you just flirted with the delivery boy on our first date?”

Scully scoffed as she passed him his food. “Firstly, the ‘delivery boy’ was at least 65 years old, and secondly, I wasn’t flirting.”

She didn’t mention that they weren’t on a date. Point Mulder.

“So you laugh at the jokes of every lucky delivery man?”

“He made a pun about Pad Thai.”

“You don’t laugh when I make jokes.” He faked petulance, barely staving off a smile. She was indulging him and he knew it.

“You make jokes?”

Mulder threw his head back in dramatic good-nature. “Ouch, Scully.”

She knocked her leg against his to ease his pain. “Besides, you wouldn’t even know what to do if I started flirting with you.”

“Ooh, is that a challenge?”

“More like a threat.” Scully laughed, moving so she sat crisscross, squarely facing him. Her knees brushed his thigh, but she left the conversation at that, moving on to a story about Bill crying the first time he ate wasabi that had Mulder laugh so hard he lost his ability to use chopsticks.

A few minutes later, Scully’s hand brushed his chest, her brow crinkled. “Oh, Mulder,” She sounded disappointed. “I think you got something on your shirt.”

“What?” Mulder looked down, blinking in surprise when she flicked his chin.

She grinned. “Got you to look.” Her giggle was infectious.

Mulder huffed a laugh, a disbelieving smile on his face. “Do you pull that move on all the guys you eat Pad Thai with?”

Scully shrugged. “Only the ones I really like. That move is once in a lifetime, you gotta make sure they’re worth it.”

Mulder raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

She ducked her head, looking a little shy. Mulder lowered his food to his lap, sitting up a little straighter and looking at Scully in a scandalized manner. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Scully took advantage of his position and stole a piece of chicken from him.

“You’re flirting with me?”

She laughed and leaned back, chin in hand and elbow on her knee. “Took you long enough. And you ate it up too.”

Mulder shrugged and looked her in the eye. “When else do I get the chance to make a pretty girl laugh?”

Scully paused at his sincerity, cocking her head to the side.

“Besides, I wanted to work on my comedic Thai-ming.”

That earned him a mix between a groan and a laugh and a smack on his shoulder. “Shut up, Mulder.” She settled deeper into the couch, going no where anytime soon.

#the x files #x files #txfic #dana scully #fox mulder #yes I did finally write something #also I’m taking prompts? If anyone wants to send any in my inbox #ya girl is currently lacking inspiration #other than this obvi #anywhoooo #hope y’all like it

195 notes · View notes

fangirlingtodeath513 · 4 years ago

Text

The Cockles Breakup Theory - Jensen

So I’ve previously posted here about the Cockles Breakup Theory, but that focused more on Misha’s side of it since Misha’s side was a bit more obvious. I’ve gotten a few requests to do one specifically focusing on Jensen, so here we are.

First of all, under no circumstances is this to be brought up with any of the cast or crew. Discussions like this are born in the fandom space and they’re meant to stay there. Please do not use these posts, or posts similar to this, to push an agenda with the actors, their families, or anyone else. This is purely speculative and purely for fun.

Throwing this under a cut because it’s gonna get long.

I’m gonna start out by giving a rough overview for those of you that don’t remember. We’re hovering between October of 2011 and somewhere around August of 2012. So we’re in season 7, where it looks like Cas has been removed from the show permanently.

Misha shows up drunk and ornery all through Asylum 7, which was the following weekend. Jensen looks relatively unfazed. We don’t see much from him until well after fans were made aware of Misha’s return around December of 2011.

The whole thing starts with this tweet from Misha:

[A screenshot of a tweet from Misha Collins on October 21, 2011. It reads: “I’m not normally one to talk coworkers, but Jensen jus let me take this picture of him shirtless.” This is followed by a link that leads to a very close-up picture of the left side of Jensen Ackles’ face, from his forehead to the bottom of his nose.]

This is pretty on-the-nose (pardon the pun) even for Misha, who’s typically very flirty and jokey with his friends. I’ve seen people theorize that this particular post is what spurred their breakup, in addition to the other factors of Misha being let go from the show and not being on set in Vancouver with Jensen anymore. My personal theory is that their relationship, whatever it was at the beginning, was as much of a comfort thing as it was a relationship. They were there for weeks at a time, away from their families, and I don’t doubt that they took comfort in each other. When that factor was removed, that relationship basically fell apart. I’m sure Misha being so jokingly open about their relationship didn’t strike Jensen in the best way either. He’s always been an intensely private person, though he has opened up to fans more recently, and I’m sure any insinuation that he’s living anything other than the life of the normal American male makes him nervous.

The Jensen side of this is generally thought of like this: from mid-October 2011 (the time of Misha’s tweet, which is thought to have started the breakup) to roughly February 2012, Jensen was super tight-lipped about Misha and Cas. He hardly says anything, which some people write off because Misha and Cas weren’t on the show. However, the fans knew Misha would be back in December of 2011, so J2M probably knew before that and Jensen was still tight-lipped about Misha and Cas.

Somewhere around February, though, something happened. Jensen’s a lot more open with talking about Cas and whenever he brings up Misha, he always mentions how much he helps to carry the show and how great he is, almost like he’s trying to praise him at every opportunity. Throughout panels between February and August 2012, he does just about everything he can to get Misha’s attention. He flirts with him, pulls him into the conversation as often as he can, and brings up Misha/Cas even when he’s not around.

There’s this set of gifs regarding Jensen speaking about Cas and the loss of Cas during season 7. He’s overly nice in them and gushes about Cas, leading some people to believe he was trying to get Misha’s attention and show him that he really did care.

In this set of gifs from February-ish 2012, you’ve got him saying he’ll take Misha back on the show with a pleased smile.

At Nashcon in February, Jensen is asked what it’s like to have Misha back on set and he says “It’s very refreshing, you know, he’s one of the family.”

And of course, there are the various statements about Dean taking Cas’s trenchcoat from the water, which wasn’t scripted. Misha said at an earlier con that he thought Dean was overly obsessed with Cas and that it was super creepy which, if you pay any attention to Misha at all, is super out of character for him. As far as I’m aware, he’s always been super supportive of Deana and Cas’s relationship (romantic or not). Also at Nashcon, Jensen says he discussed the move with the director, Guy Bee, and “if [Cas] ever comes back, he’s gonna need the trenchcoat.”

And then we’re onto JIB3 in April 2012. This one’s… rough, to say the least. For anyone who watches the Cockles panels at JIB, you know what they’re usually like: fun, flirty, usually with drunk Jensen and Misha. Misha almost always takes the lead in their panels because he’s always been the one more comfortable in front of fans, but this time he just sits back and watches. It’s the panel Cockles fans look forward to all year, but this one was… well, see for yourself.

Jensen kinda carries the whole thing. It’s pretty clear Misha’s not at all into being there.

And then there’s this exchange, which just speaks for itself:

[A set of gifs from Jus In Bello Convention in Rome. The exchange is as follows: Jensen: I-I had a great time. I really did. It wasn’t you, it was me. Misha: It’s funny, I just thought that, for me it was really special, so. Jensen: That’s, um… that’s too bad. That’s too bad. But maybe we can give it another shot! See if the creative juices get flowing. No? Okay. During this exchange, Jensen is very animated, moving his hands to punctuate his points and tilting his body toward Misha at times. At the end of that exchange, Jensen turns in his seat so Misha is slightly behind him. Misha, throughout this exchange, is incredibly reserved. He only moves to bring his microphone to his mouth and he turns his head to look at Jensen, but his body stays facing the crowd.]

I mean like what... how are you even supposed to interpret that any other way than a breakup? Look at Misha’s face, he looks devastated. His head is down, he doesn’t move at all while they’re talking, and he’s facing the crowd the entire time. His legs are straight out in front of him, unlike Jensen’s relaxed sitting posture.

Then there’s this whole thing, where Misha is so obviously trying to make Jensen jealous. It’s not until Misha sees Jensen looking over that he really goes for it, groping Sebastian and pretty much dry humping him on stage. Jensen just looks around awkwardly during this encounter, like he’s not really sure what to do with himself.

There’s also this debacle, which was also at JIB3. I’m not sure whose duck it was (I think Cliff’s, J2’s bodyguard) but Misha had autographed it with “Cliff, I want to give you my big d*ck”. The entire cast had been messing around with it all day, then Jensen walks on stage, sees Misha’s autograph, and almost immediately takes a sharp object to the duck to ruin it. I don’t want to assume this is because of Misha but like…………… I have eyes and a brain.

As far as how it was resolved? We don’t really know. I doubt we’ll ever really know, to be honest with you. Around the time of filming 8x05, they had VanCon, where they were both visibly in much, much better spirits. Misha kissed a poster of Jensen, Jensen was so much more open that even at the time, some fans who attended the con remarked on it. This brings us to August of 2012, where it appears they mended whatever went wrong. Was it that Misha wasn’t on the show? Was it something more, like Jensen thinking they were becoming a little bit too public? We’ll probably never know.

I’m not going to tack my thoughts on the end here since I want this to primarily be an informational post, so if you’d like me to go in-depth with my own theory of what happened and what went down, I’ll certainly do that in a different post :) These are some other really great resources for the breakup theory that cover things way more in-depth than I have, especially with the conventions. There’s this one, which is basically the Cockles bible, most (if not all) of the pertinent info about the breakup is listed there. Here’s a youtube playlist of all the key moments we’ve discussed here as well as some others. You can also check out my cockles tag or my cockles breakup theory tag for more delightful cockles info.

#cockles #rps for ts #cockles breakup theory

229 notes · View notes

bluedragonfairy2000 · 2 years ago

Text

Brother in a Bottle

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (Here)

Chapter 6: Aphotic Dealings

As the night dragged on Tommy and his new human companions were peacefully sleeping. However, unbeknownst to them something troubling was stirring deeper in the city.

On the west side of Pacific City, a man with a green hoodie was walking along the barely lit streets. He looks around making sure nobody is watching him before he ducks into an alleyway. Using the alleyway as a shortcut he climbs over a wired fence. Then he continues down the alleyway which opened up to some abandoned warehouses. The man walked over to one of the warehouses and unlocked the door. As he walked in he took off his hood revealing his dusty blond hair and green eyes. He looks over to the guards who are happily laughing and talking to each other. The guard takes a moment to look at him before nodding and then returning to their conversation. He nods back to the guards before going deeper into the warehouse.

As he walked through the warehouse the guy looked around. The warehouse was full of boxes filled with either supplies or things that his bosses were planning on selling at auction. There were also security guards all over the place, usually standing between the boxes and either talking to each other or making the rounds to make sure that none of the stock was missing. Finally, he approaches the back of the warehouse and spots a familiar guard standing in front of a locked stairway door. The guy pulls down his hoodie and face mask as he approaches the guard.

"Hey Punz, the boss said that we got a new shipment in, he said he wanted me to check it out. So do you know what we got this time?" the guy asks tilting his head in curiosity.

"Yeah, I just loaded it in this afternoon, the fisherman managed to find us another specimen. This one looks much younger than the first one we got in, seems to be a different species too. I think he will be worth a bit more after all those businessmen like to show off. So I'm sure they will prefer the more exotic option of an orca." Punz said as he casually leaned against the wall.

"True, but I'm sure someone will still pay quite a lot for our salmon. After all, I doubt they will get an opportunity like this ever again." The guy explained.

"Heh, I guess you are right Dream, alright Knock on the door when you want me to let you back out," Punz said as he unlocked the door and opened it. He moved to the side to allow dream access to the stairwell.

"Thanks, I will," Dream says as he gives Puns a nod and heads down the stairs. He heard the sound of the metal door closing behind him and watches the stairwell fall into almost complete darkness. The only light in the stairwell was the gas lamps that were hung up on the walls. Going down three flights of stairs Dream finally came out into the room where the higher-up had them store the valuables that were too important to be left on the ground floor.

As he walks through the large room he takes a moment to look around at all of the treasures that his company has collected over the last few months. The items vary in importance from rare antiques that were probably the most legal thing in here to brooches and necklaces that were intricately designed and most likely stolen from an ancient tomb. He was sure that not everything in the warehouse would be sold in the next action but whatever was sold would get him a pretty nice paycheck.

After a bit of walking Dream finally reached the back of the warehouse basement. Lined up against the back wall were various cages and fishtanks filled with rare and exotic animals. Many of the smaller cages housed many different types of creatures from all over the world such as Lemurs, Badges, and even a hyena. Meanwhile, the fishtanks housed all sorts of exotic aquatic life from seahorses and jellyfish. One tank even contained the deadly blue ring octopus which Dream could only imagine some billionaire will buy to pretend he's some kind of supervillain.

However, the collection's crown jewels, at least in Dream's opinion, are the two large tanks in the middle which still hold his company's rarest find. In the tank on the right is a female mermaid, Her sun-kissed skin is mostly covered up in a patchwork of seaweed and what looks to be shark skin that has been made into leather. the only visible parts of her torso are her arms and face. Her arms and neck are covered in seashell jewelry, with her ear fins pierced with iridescent pearls. Her necklace was large and was made of large pink clam shells along the outside with a row of fighting conch shells closer to her neck, all of the shells were held together by a woven pattern or rope that was likely scavenged from abandoned fishing nets. Her bracelets criss-cross across her arms and were decorated with cowrie shells. Several of the bracelets were broken, probably from struggling to escape when she was first captured. The mermaid glared at him with piercing green eyes. Her vibrant red hair flowing behind her in the water added to her beauty. Her tail much like her hair was a deep red but the fins on her arm and neck were a dull green leading most of the group to speculate that she was a salmon hybrid. From what Dream had heard she was quite difficult to catch and she has been a handful ever since she was contained.

Her neighbor on the other hand was much more subdued than she was. The mermaid in the left container was a male. He also appeared to be a juvenile since he was smaller than the girl and she seemed protective over him, despite the crew having caught them in different locations at different times. He didn’t have any jewelry or clothes when they caught him, but he did have a sachet made of the same combination of seaweed and leather that the other mermaid's tunic was made out of. The fishing team confiscated the satchel when he was first caught but all it contained was junk made out of chunks of coral and various other ocean debris. Despite not looking as flashy as his counterparts Dream could easily see someone paying top dollar for this creature. Seeing as he looked nothing like he had ever seen before. Unlike the girl who looks like the typical mermaid with a human top and scaly tail, this boy had black and white skin all over. He seemed to be some kind of orca hybrid based on the shape of his fins and tails. It was also obvious from how he would occasionally go up for air unlike the mermaid beside him since he lacked any gills. He hopes that the auctioneer mentions that to the boy's new owners less they accidentally drown him and come back demanding a refund. The most fascinating part about this mercreature though were differently colored eyes. His right eye was an enchanting emerald green color. While his other eye was a deep blood red. Dream wondered if this creature had been born liked this or if his red eye was the result of another merperson attacking him for his appearance.

Having taken in their full appearance Dream addresses the two mermaid creatures. "Good afternoon you two, I am glad to see that you are doing well. My name is Dream and I am happy to inform you that your containment here is nearly up. By this time next week, you will be at your new homes with your new owners." He said smiling sweetly at them.

The duo seemed to understand him and became quite upset by the news. The orca mermaid quickly swam as far back as he could go in his tank while cowering away from Dream as if the man could even reach him, let alone hurt him from behind the enforced glass. The salmon mermaid seemed to go from annoyed at his presence to downright furious after hearing the news. Unfortunately for Dream, the tanks were open at the top, which allowed the salmon mermaid to show her displeasure by zipping up to the top of her tank and then swimming down quickly below the water. As she went down she hit the end of her tail hard against the surface of the water causing a large wave to wash over him. Dream was unable to react in time so now he stood there drenched to the bone while a puddle of water formed around his feet. Several of the animals in the nearby cages also were hit by the unexpected wave of water causing them to freak out and attempt to escape from their cages by running around and clawing at the bars. Dream hissed and attempt to rub at his eyes to relieve the burning pain from the saltwater. However, since his hands were also covered in saltwater it just made the pain worst. Dream stumbled around blindly until his hands landed on a soft cloth that he quickly used to dry his face.

Dream looks up and realizes that he was drying his face on an ancient tapestry that had been recovered from an old tomb. He sighs and hopes that the saltwater doesn't end up ruining the old fabric before it can go to auction. He turns back toward the two mermaids. The salmon mermaid is staring at him with a smug smirk proud that she at least managed to inconvenience him. Meanwhile, the orca mermaid is still pushed up against the far end of his tank nervously glancing between Dream and the other mermaid as if he's expecting a fight to break out.

Dream just levels a cold unamused glare at her. standing just outside of the splash area he addresses the salmon mermaid "You think you're real clever, don't you? well I'm not sure what you were trying to prove since drenching me doesn't stop the auction from happening, but I hope it helped relieve some of your attitudes. after all, who know's what your new owners will do to you if you try to attempt that on them? Not like that's my problem, after all, I won't be seeing you again after today. I'll send one of the handlers to come and give you guys your dinner after I leave, have a goodnight." he says with slight disdain.

Dream takes one last look at the mermaids. The girl has gone from looking smug to looking like she wants to tear his throat out. as for her neighbor, he is now covering his face and trembling distressed by Dream's words. Dream just rolls his eyes at the antics of the creatures before heading back towards the stairs. Once he has made his way back to the metal door he bangs his fist on the metal before calling out to Punz to let him out.

Punz opens the door causing a burst of cold air to hit Dream's body causing him to shiver. As Dream stepped back out into the light Punz took one look at his soaked outfit and began laughing hysterically. Dream shot him a glare as he laughed which only caused Punz to laugh harder.

As Punz finally starts to calm down he asks "So I'm guessing you got to meet the Salmon?"

"Unfortunately yes, do you happen to have a towel or something? I'm freezing right now." Dream complained

"Yeah doesn't worry man you aren't her first victim and for some reason, I doubt you'll be her last." Punz jokes before calling out to one of the other guards and telling them to grab Dream a towel and some extra clothes.

Dream pulls off his soaking wet hoodie and sighs "You are probably right at least that's a sign that she's healthy, it wouldn't do us any good if she got sick and we'd have to keep her for another month."

"Very true, better someone else problem than our problem" Punz laughs before turning towards another guard who is holding a towel and holding a new pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt.

"Thanks, Niki," Puns says as he takes the stuff from the younger guard and hands them over to Dream.

As Dream takes the towel he can't help but notice how odd the other guard is. First of she looks at least a few years younger than most of the other guys who work for the company. Secondly, her hair was an odd shade of bubblegum pink which usually wouldn't be strange but their company had a sort of strict dress code police stating that employees could only dye their hair natural colors. Lastly, she wasn't wearing the standard uniform given to the security guards. Instead, she was wearing what appeared to be a black wetsuit with pink highlights on it. Dream decides to wait till she's out of earshot before asking Punz what was up with her.

As Dream started getting dressed the Niki left. Once she was out of eyesight Dream leaned towards Punz and quietly asked. "So what's up with her, I don't remember seeing her before and if anyone else dressed like that I think the higher up would have them axed immediately.

"Oh well, Niki isn't one of ours, the company hired a third party after we got the first mermaid in. Niki has a lot of experience taking care of animals, especially sea creatures, so she is tasked with taking care of all of the animals. She seemed pretty upset when she first arrived here but honestly that's to be expected from someone new. However, the higher-ups managed to convince her to keep quiet about the whole thing so she's been pretty nice to work with since then." Punz explains

"Oh that makes a bit more sense well then you might want to tell her to be careful next time she goes to feed them. The salmon seemed about ready to rip my throat out by the time I was done" Dream says as he finishes getting dressed

Punz laughs "Ok, I'll let her know, anyways was there anything else you came here to do, or do you have some time to hang out?"

"I have some time to hang out, I don't need to report until tomorrow." Dream says leaning up against some boxes.

"Awesome let me go tell Niki what you said and make sure that Connor can cover my shift," Punz says before leaving Dream to go find Niki

It doesn't take Punz long to find Niki, she's in a corner of the warehouse that she usually goes to so that she doesn't have to interact with any of the guards. She seemed busy measuring out all of the ingredients for the food that she specially made to feed the mermaids. Honestly, Punz wasn't sure why she added so much more work for herself when they would be gone soon, and he briefly wonders if she'll try to tell the owners how to make the food. He highly doubts that anyone else will put in as much effort as she is but he guesses that's all the more reason to give her Dream's warning.

"Hey, Niki sorry to bother you since I know you're busy but Dream wanted me to warn you that the mermaids seem especially aggressive today. You might want to be careful giving them their dinner tonight." Punz explains

"Oh ok, thanks for warning me. Is your shift over now?" Niki asks as she grabs the containers for the mermaid's food.

"Nah, just going to switch out with Connor so that Dream and I can hang out. You can go ahead and start feeding the animals I'll let Connor know your down there so he can let you out." Punz says

"Alright good to know, see you later Punz," Niki says.

"See you later Niki!" Punz says as he leaves.

Niki waits and watches Punz go until he's out of sight then with a sigh of relief she makes her way back to the large steel door that leads down the basement. As she arrives she gives Dream a friendly smile and wave which he returns with a smile of his own and a head nod. with that brief exchange, Niki pulls open the heavy door and heads inside the stairwell closing it with a loud slam.

She casually makes her way downstairs and unlike Dream, she avoids looking at all of the various stolen treasures and heads straight to the back where the animals were kept. All of the animals seem to perk up once she arrives. Before setting about her task she moves towards seemingly not caring that she is stepping into a large puddle of water by doing so. In the left tank the newcomer coward back as if expecting Niki to harm him. Niki felt sorry for the guy having been wrenched from the ocean and having his stuff stolen before being trapped in a tiny box must have been fairly stressful for him. She looks at him with sympathetic eyes and a soft smile before turning to the nereid in the right tank.

"Hey Sally, heard you got the guy those jerks sent, soaked when he was down here" Niki praises

Sally chuckled at this before answering "Well I'd say that was his fault for standing in the splash zone"

The other nereid looked shocked at Sally's response but began to relax once he realized that Niki wasn't a threat.

Sally seemed to notice which is when she took the opportunity to say. "Oh by the way let me introduce you two, this unlucky fellow is my new roommate Ranboo. He used to be part of the courier line between the Abyss Zone and the Meso Zone. Ranboo this is Nihachu she watches over the animals and brings us our meals and unlike the others, she is safe to talk around."

"Oh.. ok, um, it's nice to meet you" Ranboo awkwardly gets out as he finally moves away from the back of the tank to get a better look at Niki.

"It's nice to meet you too Ranboo! I'm sorry you were forced to come here against your will." Niki says before being with her task of feeding the various animals.

"It's alright it's not your fault I'm here" Ranboo tries to reassure

"Oh, that reminds me, that guy who came down here earlier said that the auction would be happening soon. How are the escape plans coming along?" Sally asks startling Ranboo a bit with her bluntness.

"Well I have most of the details figured out but there are a couple of minor things I need to work out before we can go ahead with the plan. I should have everything done before the setup day. Which means they won't have time to try and tack you guys down if everything goes according to plan." Niki explains

"Ok good and having Ranboo added to the plan won't alter the plan?" Sally asks.

"It shouldn't change it much," Niki confirms as she finishes giving the animals her food and pulls out a ladder before grabbing the nereid's food and climbing up to the top of the tank.

"Excellent then it sounds like we're all set," Sally says taking one of the containers and passing it to Ranboo before taking the other for herself.

"Are the guys upstairs expecting you back immediately?" Sally asked as she took a couple of bites from her food.

"Not really, the guy who's usually guarding the door decided to take a break and everyone assumes you are in a bad mood so they won't question me for taking longer and being soaked," Niki admits knowing where Sally is going with this.

"Awesome, then why don't you come in for a swim? It would be a good way for both of us to relive some stress" Sally says as she sets down her food at the edge of her tank.

Niki thinks about it for a moment before agreeing. She moves behind some boxes and takes off the wetsuit that she only really wore as a uniform. Underneath the wetsuit, she was wearing a white bathing suit that had a flower design which started red at the center of the flowers and faded to pink towards the petals. Once she had changed she climbs back up before hopping into Sally's tank.

Ranboo watched in awe as the water fizzes around Niki as a dull pink light emanates from her. Once both the bubbles and light have dissipated he can get a better look at her. He is shocked to see that her body from hips down had been replaced with a white nereid tail that was so covered in little red dots that it made her tail look pink and even red in some places. She now also had a large frill-like fin are her back and smaller fins on her arms. Both these fins were covered in the same red dots that were on her tail. However, the most surprising thing to Ranboo was the nereid body parts she missed such as ear fins and gills.

Sally laughed at Ranboo's shocked face as Niki broke the surface to breathe. "Guess I forgot to mention that Nihachu is a half-blood," Sally says casually

"Yeah, you kinda did. To be honest I always thought that half-bloods were a myth. Not to offend you miss Nihachu" Ranboo quickly explains.

Niki giggles before saying "It's no problem Ranboo, half-bloods are pretty rare from what I've seen. I've only met one other half-blood in my entire life

"Oh really? that must be kinda lonely..." Ranboo says trailing off, being a courier he is usually alone for long periods.

"It can be but I have found plenty of human and nereid friends in my time so it's not that bad," Niki says as she enjoys being able to swim around. She hadn't had much time to relax or chat out about her heritage since being forced to stay with this evil company.

The trio spends the next fifteen minutes swimming around and enjoying each other's company before Niki decides to head out before the guards come down and check on her. She dries off her tail enough for it to split back into legs, though the legs are still covered in scales. Then she slides the waterproof wetsuit on to hide her remaining fins and scales despite how uncomfortable she feels having her fins squished against her body. Once she finishes putting the wet suit back on she moves over to where Dream had been earlier and gives Sally the thumbs up. Sally nods understanding and proceeds to splash Niki in the same way that she had splashed Dream. Thanks to the fact that her half-blood nature wasn't obvious from her face and hands she could fabricate the idea that she was down there so long and that she was sopping wet because Sally had been ticked off by Dream.

With her alibi secured Niki said her goodbyes and promised her friends that she would be back in the morning for breakfast. As she left only one thought filled her mind, figuring out a way to get Sally and Ranboo out of this awful place.

#dream smp #dreamwastaken #punz #niki niachu #ranboo #sally the salmon #mermaid sally #mermaid Niki #mermaid ranboo #fanfiction #ao3 #brother in a bottle fic

5 notes · View notes

goji-pilled · 2 years ago

Note

MK-S: More of Candeloro’s journal excerpts.

Feb 5: …brings me no comfort to say that my quest into The Archives (Yep, the internet is definitely going to be called “The Archives” with a capital ‘T’ in “The” (unless I forget).) did indeed bare fruit; the appearance of such a young beast little more than a week ago (yesterday, entry dated Jan 27 in here. Had to flip back and check.) was no lone scavenger from beyond the breach (oh, that could be a good name too! “The Breach”…but I’ve already decided “The Gate” for however they’re getting-Oh! Wait, I can call the hole/entrance “The Breach”! Perfect! Not gonna go back and scratch out all refs, I’ll just use the new name going forward. Recap:) -from beyond the Breach Gate (I JUST had this talk with myself! How did I repeat Breach again!), but is indeed a sign that the beasts have begun to breed within this space between spaces (still needs a nam-“The Gap” writing that down before I forget. I’ll decide on it later). Now my quest is twofold; as before it is my duty to find and seal The Gate and then hunt down the scourge it has unleashed upon this world realm. (Google says that baby rats = nest, *groan*, so now I gotta find the darn hole in the wall they got in from, and see if I can’t stumble upon where the dang nest is. I swear if I can’t find the darn thing in two weeks irl, I’m calling an exterminator.) …

Feb 8: I have uncovered a new and troubling discovery today. Not another of the Rat King’s (was it King or Lord?…Interchangeable?) minions, but a hazard of the land. A root of some sort, not of the plant or flesh, but of plastic and metal. The (Oh shoot, do rats chew on electrical wire? Need to google that as soon as I leave. This is fun, but not worth a house fire.) root had its plastic bark exposed. In a moment of naïveté (I’m an idiot) I reached out and touched this strange metal (Zapped myself pretty good too. Had to yell to Oktavia I was okay in here…Am I only okay because I’m a witch, or would that have also only hurt if I was human…not sure I want an answer there.) the thing seemed to call forth the power (no pun intended) of the very gods, in a brief but brilliant flash of light. I shall dub such metal vines roots “Spark starters”. Now, I must return through the Breach. (Gotta see if we have any electrical tape in the closet. “Armory”?…no, too much stuff, not enough able to be used as a rat killer. Upside, starting to use “the Breach” correctly on instinct!”)…

Feb 11: …having returned home (as if I left) I make preparations for my next expedition. Having given description of the hazardous Spark Starters, fair Lady Seckendorff has graced me with the relic known as “Scotch’s Blessing” (Turns out they make electrical tape too. I thought it was a type, like duck duct tape, Ophelia teases me enough for that mishearing-turned-mispronouncing enough as is, not repeating it again.) and now I just need one more journey into The Archives to see if the beasts may be putting all realms in danger, by means of these metal plants…

Feb 12: …I am extremely troubled by what I have found in the old tomes (how did I never come across that word as Mami Tomoe? You’d think someone would have tried teasing me with it, or at least try to use it as a fun joke. Well, I guess I have a new pun in my arsenal next time I’m having quips with Ophelia.)…it seems that not only can the Rat Lord use Spark Starters to burn away the walls between realms (I’m surprisingly satisfied with that line)…but it seems such is his Modus Operandi. Though it pains me to say it, this task is beyond me. I am but one, while the beasts are many, and their damage can spread faster than I could ever keep up with. Our world must reach into its sacred treasuries, to pay whatever price is needed for Those That Breathe Of Poison Mist, for only they have the faintest chance of ending this blight while time yet remains. (Yeah, google says that rat chewed wires starting fires (oh that rhymes) is actually not unheard of, to the point where it’s just a thing. Top result said that in the USA (no idea why I can’t find results for Japan, but I’m not gonna look to hard on this) up to 20% of “undetermined fires” are thought to be from rodent chewed wires. And since I freaking Found one of these wires, there could be others, and I am NOT going to risk a house fire with my family in it. Gonna call an exterminator now first thing in the morning, they’re closed now. Gonna go tape up that one wire afterwards. Dag nab it, I was having fun with this too…Oh well, I can still have fun finding and patching up that hole if the exterminator can’t, and there’s still the interior of the house to map out. Maybe I could go with undoing the Rat King’s damage…yeah, that could work.)…

MK-S: Yes I did actually google these things, which makes this all the better. But since Candeloro is a responsible parent she would definitely call an exterminator after learning these things…so now I’m thinking that after the real rats are dead, Phil could make little glyph powered creatures for tiny Candeloro to find, study and fight; a broken doll with its joints gone, each limb has its own weak spot (she goes for the head first; mistake because now she can’t tell where it’s looking). A rat corpse made animate and speaks in strange whispers (just playing back a scrambled version of the local radio station). A garden snake…Phil’s not behind that one, it was just warm inside and there’s a hole somewhere. It could be Phil’s olive branch to Candeloro…just realized/remembered that Klarissa may not be a part of this AU, and Phil by extension, but I’m not going to delete all this just because of that little detail.

Hope you all enjoyed!

I live for Candeloros fake journal entrys

#felix answers #domestic witches #io3 #long post #healed my depression and cleaned my pores

6 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Short Stack -- Part 2

Here we go

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x Pro Hero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, alcohol, swearing from obvious sources, biting kink, double penetration, anal, unprotected sex, the boys being great at aftercare

Word Count: 4.6k

Author’s Note: Still not great at smut, but fuck it (pun very much intended). Fight scenes are hard to write, but oh well, I’ll get better with practice. Love you guys ~

Part 1 - Part 3

Enjoy!

You didn’t think accepting Bakugou’s challenge would get you in such deep shit. You regret challenging him. He’s terrifying. But here you are, and there’s no getting out of it.

The three of you were in the agency’s separate training facilities, an arena with different training spaces, much like UA High’s USJ, only the spaces were designed to take on quirks of all kinds without taking much damage, the buildings were solid blocks of concrete with fake painted windows. You were standing in the middle of a clearing, facing off against Bakugou in an all-out spar using your quirks. Kirishima was standing a few dozen feet away, watching the unfortunate turn of events.

All of you were in your hero costumes. While Bakugou had his gauntlets to help him enhance the usage of his quirk, you and Kirishima couldn’t really use support items to help you, because your quirks just weren’t combat-oriented quirks. So your costume was relatively simple, allowing as much movement as possible for hand-to-hand combat. Black leggings, black halter tank top, black combat boots, and a black domino mask a lot like the one Bakugou wears, minus the extra spikes. On patrol when you weren’t fighting, you wore a black corset that had a cape flowing out from the bottom, and when you needed to jump into action you’d store it away with your quirk. Why? Because you’d been advised to make your costume more recognizeable and distinguishable from civilian clothing.

Now, you hadn’t even bothered putting on the corset, and were waiting to start facing off against pro hero Ground Zero. This almost definitely won’t end very well for you, but you can’t just let him win, so you drop into your stance and wait, staring at the towering figure a few yards away, ready to take whatever he throws at you. You need to keep as far away from his palms as possible, because if you get caught by that quirk it’s all over. So you just wait for him to move so he can’t read your movements as easily, and you know it’ll work, because Bakugou Katsuki is NOT a patient man.

Without warning he throws his hands behind him and fires off his quirk, propelling himself forward with impossible speed. But you’re still faster. You charge and duck under him as he throws a punch, immediately standing and sprinting away. He uses a blast from his palm to redirect his momentum with pinpoint accuracy, and propels after you. Thanks to his noisy quirk, you know how far and how fast he’s coming at you, and this time instead of ducking, you materialize a capture weapon much like the now retired Eraserhead used to use.

Quickly, you spin around and face Ground Zero, and as he swings you wrap his wrist with the material and dig your feet into the ground. Using his already insane momentum, you swing him around and slam him into the nearest building. He sets off a blast from his palms as he collides with the concrete, bracing himself and attempting to soften the impact. It worked. He was perfectly fine. Pissed off, but fine. Pro hero Ground Zero is absolutely terrifying.

The capture weapon vanished, and you braced for another round. There was no way he’d launch at you again. You’d already dodged him twice, managing to take advantage of his offensive tactics. This time, he charged without the use of his quirk, and you read his movements like the words on a book. When he planted his left foot to jump and flip over your head, you dropped to the floor on your knees, your back flattening on the ground and your feet just outside your hips. Just as he reached down to set off a blast at your face, you latched a quirk-cancelling cuff onto his wrist. As he tumbled, not prepared to lose his quirk, you materialized the capture weapon again, and wrapped up Ground Zero before he could regain his balance, completely immobilizing him.

After a few long seconds of silence and heavy breathing, Kirishima burst into laughter, “OH MY GOD IT’S JUST LIKE AIZAWA-SENSEI!! DO YOU REMEMBER BAKUGOU?!” At that, Bakugou snapped out of his shocked state and bellowed out a yell rivaling his quirk’s blasts. Kirishima just laughed harder. After a few minutes of Bakugou yelling and Kirishima dying of laughter, everything calmed. You unwrapped Bakugou and when you uncuffed him, he lifted his hand and popped off his quirk uncomfortably close to your face. It made you tense a little, but didn’t scare you like he probably intended to.

When you returned to sit with Kirishima, he asked how you learned to use the weapon the famed Eraserhead would use. “Actually, I learned from Aizawa-Sensei himself. Because of my quirk, I need to focus on close combat. I needed to learn as many different fighting styles and methods of restraining as possible. I actually approached a friend of mine that went to UA like you two, and he said he wouldn’t teach me because he was still learning, so we both learned from Eraserhead.”

“You know Shinsou?” Kirishima asked. “Yeah, I’ve known him since middle school.” His response was absolutely ridiculous. “Wow, he knew a cutie like you and didn’t tell anyone? How greedy.” You dropped your eyes to the ground and blushed hard at what just came out of the redhead’s mouth. “Anyway, we should get going. The sun’s gonna set soon and I think we’ve all gotta patrol tomorrow,” you quickly changed the subject. Bakugou agreed that it was time to pack up and go, so you went your separate ways.

The next few weeks passed pretty similarly. A few low-level villains popping up on patrol, hitting the gym whenever you could, running into either Kirishima or Bakugou en route, and occasionally going over to drink with the duo. There was shift change and the three of you all had Sundays off, and you’d go drink at their place on Saturdays, stay the night, and spend the day doing whatever the three of you felt like doing.

It was fun having people in your life. But soon enough you were spiraling again. You were just waiting for them to betray you and leave you lonely again. So when they began to get a little more physical with you, and you liked it, your paranoia screamed at you to run before they did. And there was another emotion swirling around inside you. Something that rivaled the paranoia and fear.

You really liked being around Bakugou and Kirishima. In fact, you were always sad to part ways with them. You ended up thinking about them way more often than you felt you should, and that scared you. You knew you were getting attached, but you didn’t know just how far you’d fallen until the day you were forced to either face your feelings and let them run free, or drown in your paranoid, lonely life.

It’s been a couple months now that you’ve got to know the duo that is Ground Zero and Red Riot. It’s Saturday, and the three of you were drinking and talking. Kirishima learned a while ago to drink a lot slower just to be able to talk more instead of passing out a couple hours in. The atmosphere in the apartment was strange, though, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol. After being around the two, it became obvious that they were a little more than just roommates, seeing as they’d kiss around you now. Well, it was more Kirishima kissing Bakugou’s cheek and the blonde getting flustered. It was quite cute.

But that wasn’t the reason for the weird tension in the air tonight. But you couldn’t quite place it. The two were being flirty. Like, really REALLY flirty. Ever since you met them Kirishima was flirty, and Bakugou eventually threw in compliments that your outfit wasn’t terrible that day. Tonight though, as you all sat on the carpeted floor, Kirishima was laying it on thick, saying how beautiful you were and he always looked forward to seeing you, and a buzzed Bakugou was playing with your hair. At least, you thought he was buzzed. You couldn’t really tell.

You didn’t entirely mind the attention, you were extremely touch starved after all. But you were still wary about their intentions, your trust issues and paranoia preventing you from enjoying much of anything. Of course, the alcohol in your system brought down your defenses a little, and the part of you that was afraid of being abandoned dwindled down and drifted to the back of your mind.

After Kirishima was done gushing over you, he spread out and rested his head in your lap, and Bakugou put his head on your shoulder, still playing with your hair as his other hand wrapped around your waist from behind. A comfortable silence fell, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the warmth from the two bodies. You opened your eyes and looked down, expecting Kirishima to have fallen asleep, but his ruby eyes were looking straight back up at you.

Suddenly a gruff voice rumbled in your ear. “We really like you (y/l/n). And that’s saying a lot. I don’t like anybody.” Kirishima nodded his head in your lap, agreeing wholeheartedly with the blonde. Your walls came right back up, the paranoia coming back to bite you in the ass, and you let out a nervous chuckle. “I...I don’t think-” you were cut off by Bakugou shifting behind you, moving so he pressed your back into his chest and wrapped both his strong arms around your waist. “I know how you feel about people getting close, (y/l/n),” the blonde growled softly in your ear, “And we don’t expect you to just accept us out of the blue like this. But know that we’re willing to wait until you trust us with your heart.”

Bakugou shifted again and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your neck and whispering the confession. “We’ll wait, princess.” “We’ve been waiting, little pebble,” Kirishima chimed. You tilted your head in confusion, and Kirishima answered the silent question. “We’ve liked you since a little bit after we met you. At first we just liked hanging around you cause you were fun. But then…” he trailed off, knowing he didn’t have to say the rest.

You’d always prided yourself on your ability to read people. But now you were cursing your ability. Because you could read these two from the beginning, and you knew they’d never lie or deceive anyone. You knew from the second Bakugou judged your tiny figure aloud and Kirishima rolled over laughing at his partner’s defeat that they were good people. People you wanted in your life. People you could be safe with. You knew you could let your walls down around them, and they wouldn’t dream of hurting you. You knew, from the start, you’d fall madly in love with them.

And they fell for you too.

And you were terrified.

Unrealistic and idiotic thoughts swirled in your head. What if they stop liking me later? What if I actually read them wrong? What if I end up hurting them? What-

Your thoughts were cut short. You had started to spiral, and you’d already zoned out and didn’t notice the two move around you. But now you were all on the couch, you were straddling Bakugou’s lap, face in his chest, and Kirishima was behind you, his arms hooked around both you and the blonde. What snapped you from your thoughts wasn’t the movement, but the lips that took purchase on either side of your neck.

The two men were peppering soft, gentle, comforting kisses along your neck and shoulders. Bakugou’s voice rumbled in your left ear, “It’s okay, princess. We’d never hurt you,” Kirishima’s voice in your right, “It’ll be okay little pebble, we can keep you safe.” You melted in their arms, and the fear you felt began to ebb away with each touch from the males. They made you feel so safe. Secure. Loved. You really could let your walls fall around them. They’d take your broken and abandoned brick house and build it into a castle. And for the first time in a long time, you let people in.

You nodded against Bakugou’s chest, beginning to tear up at the thought of finally getting close to someone and knowing you wouldn’t regret it. “I...I like you too. Both of you.” Suddenly their movements stopped. Bakugou sat up and looked at you, and Kirishima leaned around to look at you, both of them wide-eyed and frozen, like deer in headlights. “Are you serious little pebble? You really like us?” You nodded quickly at the redhead, who beamed with a wide smile, and Bakugou just dove back into your neck, placing quick pecks on every inch of skin he could find. You giggled at the sensation. “Bakugou it tickles!” He froze, and slowly rose from your neck with a devious and mischievous smirk on his lips. Your eyes grew wide, “Don’t even think about it!” Too late. Kirishima jumped backward and pulled you down on the couch, pinning your arms next to your head, your legs trapped under your thighs so you couldn’t kick.

Bakugou immediately attacked your belly with his fingers, making you squeal and squirm. After relentless torture, he paused his attack, and you breathed a little bit, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you struggled to get oxygen back into your lungs. The peace didn’t last, though. Bakugou pulled up your shirt, exposing your belly, leaned down, and blew raspberries into your stomach, making you erupt in giggles and squeals all over again.

When you finally had enough and desperately needed to breathe, you materialized your wallet above Bakugou’s head and it dropped, making him jump and freeze. In between giggles you said, “That was me. I need to breathe. Give me a minute.” The two ceased their attack and let you go so you could get comfortable and breathe. Bakugou kept looking at you in confusion, and Kirishima asked the question that was probably on his mind. “How’d you drop your wallet on his head? Your hands were pinned! I had them pinned!” You giggled a little, realizing that they thought you could only materialize things into your hands. “I can materialize anything that I store anywhere I look. It doesn’t need to be in my hand,” you say with a small smile.

“But at the bar, you had your hand out.” Kirishima pointed out. “Yes, I did. Just to get your attention in the right place. Cause who would notice another set of keys suddenly appearing in the middle of the table if nobody was looking?” Kirishima nodded at your explanation. Then his eyes went wide, “So can you look at something and store it?” Again, you giggled, but this time it was from his slightly surprised, slightly excited expression.

You turned your head to the coffee table, two pairs of red eyes following your gaze. A coaster vanished from the table, and you looked above Bakugou’s head. Again their eyes followed, but as Bakugou looked up, it materialized and sat flat on his forehead. Before he could react, it vanished again, and appeared in your hand, before vanishing again and reappearing back on the coffee table.

“I try to keep from using it too much, because if it ever becomes useful in battle I’d like to keep it from being figured out. That, and I used to get accused a lot for stealing, so I just kinda stopped using it like that.” Kirishima had the biggest grin on his face. “That’s so freaking cool! Right Bakugou?” The blonde only shrugged with a small ‘eh’. Which, you learned, meant he agreed. After a couple minutes of talking about how you could use your quirk, you leaned back on the couch, took a deep breath, and glanced at the clock. It was currently 2am. That was fine, though, since you were all off and you could sleep in.

As you closed your eyes and relaxed, a nice silence filled the air. Though that silence was soon filled by the sound of fabric shifting and the couch dipping. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know that the two were now sitting much closer to you. You could feel their body heat at your sides. So it didn’t scare you and you didn’t jump when you felt two large hands come down on each of your thighs. It did, however, surprise you when you felt their weight shift again and felt their mouths on the sides of your neck again, this time their tongues lapping at your skin.

It made you gasp as your eyes shot open, your body reacting instantly to the feeling. Your chest heaved as they sucked marks onto your neck, your legs squeezing together involuntarily. The two pulled away from you, their pupils blown wide with lust taking in your pleasured expression. You were thankful to whatever deity was looking out for you, because you knew exactly what they wanted, and you wanted it just as bad. You had rid yourself of your clothing so fast the two men were confused for a second before they realized you’d used your quirk.

Without another second, you’d taken off both their shirts and jeans and dropped them in the corner of the room with your quirk, and this time they just raked their eyes down your body, taking in every bit of exposed skin. It didn’t take long for them to reposition. Now you were straddling Kirishima, and Bakugou was behind you, returning to the task of leaving marks on your body. Bakugou was moving down your back, sucking bruises down your spine and Kirishima was nipping at the plush skin on your chest, just under your collarbone.

Soon you were a whimpering mess, gasping and mewling with every kiss they placed against your skin. When Kirishima got more intense with the bites, you only got louder, and he took notice. He latched his mouth onto your shoulder and bit down, slowly increasing the pressure, making you let out a soft moan. His eyes widened a little when you told him to bite harder. He obliged and bit down, just barely breaking the skin on your shoulder, and you moaned out loud. Bakugou stopped behind you and came up to whisper in your ear.

“You like biting princess?” he growled and nipped the shell of your ear. You nodded, desperate to feel the pain again. You brought your hand up and tapped the junction between your neck and shoulder, right at the top of your back where you could feel a muscle twitch. “Right here. Please,” you whined, knowing that was the most sensitive spot on your neck. Kirishima leaned over and licked where you tapped, “Here pebble?” You nodded furiously, and before you could open your mouth to beg again, his sharp teeth sank into your neck. You nearly screamed out a moan, your voice mixed with pain and pleasure as you felt drops of blood glide down your back.

As quickly as he was there, Kirishima let go and licked at the wound he’d inflicted, soothing it gently. You didn’t notice Bakugou’s absence until he came back and wiped the blood away with a damp cloth and kissed the skin around the bite. You were delirious with pleasure, just from that one bite, and you could feel your arousal soaking your panties. Bakugou took no time at all to make that discovery, trailing his thick fingers over your clothed pussy. “Fuck, Ei, she’s soaked. So wet for us already little princess.”

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening as you were carried to a bed. You didn’t register whose bed, but that didn’t really matter. You were put down on your back, two undeniably stunning men looking at you like you were the last meal on the planet. You were so out of it you didn’t quite realize they’d already stripped you of your bra and panties, and Bakugou was flat on his stomach, blowing hot breaths onto your exposed folds. The sensation made you jolt, and you whined wanting more. Kirishima kneaded your breasts, pulling a pert nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue over it before releasing it with a ‘pop’ and moving to repeat with the other, occasionally moving to your collarbone and leaving bites along your shoulders.

Bakugou lapped at your entrance, groaning from your sweet taste. He slipped the pink muscle into you, making you squirm at the feeling as he moved it around. He moved up, placing kitten licks over your clit as he slipped a thick finger into your heated core. You let out a soft moan as he slipped a second finger into you, curling them up to strike at the spongy spot inside you. It made you gasp sharply, and he smirked, knowing he’d just found what he was looking for.

He moved his fingers faster inside you, plunging them deeper and curling them up harder and faster, making you clench around him. A coil built up in your belly, tightening the more Bakugou moved his fingers. “I can feel you gripping me, princess. Cum for me,” he said, and attached his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bundle. That was all you needed for that coil to snap, and your back arched off the bed, your legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

Bakugou kept his ministrations, letting you ride out your high. Once you were panting back down on the bed, the two shifted positions once again. Bakugou behind you, holding you up against his solid chest, and Kirishima in front of you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lined up his cock with your entrance. You didn’t even know when they’d gotten naked themselves. But as you got a good look at his cock, your eyes widened and your breath hitched. He was huge. Thick and long, a prominent vein running underneath from the base all the way up to his head, already dripping precum.

“Like what you see pebble? Don’t worry I’ll go slow, I know I’m not small. You ready?” he asked gently, and you nodded. He slid into you, hissing at how your walls clenched around him. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight,” he said as he slowly sheathed his cock, inching his way all the way inside you. You were mewling and moaning, loving the way he’s stretching you, your hands reaching up and looping around Bakugou’s neck behind you to keep you anchored. When Kirishima finally bottomed out, you were both panting hard, and he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “You’re doing so well baby. I’m gonna start moving okay?” You nodded, unable to form coherent words.

As he pulled out, you let out a high pitched moan, and he began to pump in and out of your dripping pussy. It felt amazing, but you desperately needed more. “Ki-Kiri- please, I n-need -- hah~” “It’s Eijiro, baby. Call me Eijiro,” he smiled softly before setting a brutal pace, making you moan out his name. A familiar coil tugged inside you, and you wanted so bad to be sent over the edge. Sensing your need, Bakugou traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You open your mouth, sucking and licking at his fingers. He pulls them out and reaches down to rub tight, precise circles on your clit. The tension in your belly snaps and you’re falling apart on Eijiro’s cock, mewling out his name while he keeps slamming into you.

As you’re coming down from your second orgasm, he slows and stills inside you, and pulls you off Bakugou into his chest. You feel the bed dip as the blonde repositions behind you. You turn your head to watch as he brings his fingers into his mouth, lubricating them with his saliva, and reaches down to prod at your puckered hole. His gruff voice reaches your ear in a whisper, “Relax for me princess.” He pushes one thick finger past the tight ring of muscle, and you mewl at the weird feeling, and as he pushes another in, you’re hissing at the sting.

He’s scissoring and curling his fingers in your ass, stretching you out to prepare you for his own cock. It takes a minute for the sting to subside. When he feels you relax, he spits on his cock and strokes with his other hand, making sure to slick his entire length. He removes his fingers and pushes the head of his cock into you, and you let out a whine from both the pain and the need for him to fill you up. Slowly, he’s sinking further into you with shallow thrusts, inching his way in until he bottoms out inside you. Eijiro moves inside you again and you’re gasping and clawing at his back.

As Eijiro slides his cock back into your pussy, Bakugou pulls out, and they’re moving back and forth in sync at a steady pace. You throw your head back against the blonde’s shoulder and let your moans and mewls slip out of you incoherently. “KATSUKI!!” you scream out when he suddenly snaps his hips up, slamming his cock into you. Eijiro follows suit, and the two set a bruising pace, rutting their hips up into you. You don’t even notice the pressure building in your abdomen until you’re spraying clear liquid over both of them, your body shaking from your third orgasm and overstimulation, and their hips begin to sputter, their pace becoming more erratic.

Eijiro is grunting into your ear, “I need to cum baby, where do you want me?”. You lace your fingers into each man’s hair, pulling them so you’re sure both can hear you. “Fill me up, fill me with your cum! Please fill me up!” At that, both men clamp their teeth down on your shoulders, pounding into you, and you’re screaming their names as they pump you full, painting your insides white.

All three of you are panting hard, trying to catch your breaths. Their cocks are still inside you, softening slowly, their seed dripping out of your holes. Katsuki is the first to move. He grabs the wet cloth from earlier as Eijiro puts you down on the bed. The blonde begins to clean your aching body, wiping down your legs and shoulders, cleaning off the cum and any blood that spilled from the bites they gave you. Katsuki finishes, tossing the cloth to the corner of the room, and Eijiro returns with a glass of water. He pulls you up to sit and sip from the glass as he holds it up to your mouth.

They take sips of the water themselves, and Katsuki leaves the room. Eijiro pulls you and tells you to sit up, and he lays down on his stomach next to you, laying his head on your lap. The position gives you a good look at his back, and your eyes widened at the sight. His upper back was marred with welts, little droplets of blood just barely seeping out, and you realized you did that, though you didn’t think you’d been scratching him all that hard. Soon Katsuki came back and cleaned up Eijiro’s back and spread ointment on both his scratches and your bites.

Once he was done, he put the ointment on the bedside table and the three of you curled up in bed with you squished between them once again. Your eyelids feel heavy, and as you feel sleep tugging at your mind, you let out a small chuckle, “If I can’t walk when I wake up, I’m gonna kill both of you,” and you drift into a deep sleep.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou bnha #kiribaku x reader

284 notes · View notes

izzyfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

Lies Have Never Tasted So Sweet

SHIP: Emceit

CHARACTERS: Emile Picani, Janus Sanders and Remus Sanders

WARNING: Lying, mild sexual implications from Remus, swearing

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez

Masterpost

A Series Of Soulmate AUs Masterpost

Emile was someone who always liked to look on the bright side of things.

He liked to stay positive – to be cheerful and happy as much as possible, for both himself and those he surrounded himself with. Happiness spread happiness, and he was a sunshiny influence on everyone around him.

But sometimes it was difficult to stay positive, with Emile’s soulbond being the way it was. Out of all the different kinds of soulbonds in the world – and there were many, many kinds – the ability to tell when your soulmate was lying was the one that led to the least number of meetings. It wasn’t a way to communicate, nor was it a way for them to track each other down, nor was it a way to identify their first meeting. It was useful for soulmates who’d already met, but didn’t really come in handy when trying to find them in the first place.

It was difficult, sometimes, to stay positive that one day Emile would meet the love of his life.

He tried, though. He tried to be positive and hopeful, and he also tried to be truthful – or stick to little white lies that hurt no one, because he needed to make sure his soulmate could still find him, even if dishonesty made him uncomfortable.

Apparently, his soulmate had no such qualms.

The fireworks that burst in Emile’s chest whenever his soulmate told a lie were undoubtably a good feeling: sometimes making him so bubbly he giggled. But their frequency was often... concerning, as he could never forget that every firework was set off by a lie.

What kind of person was Emile’s soulmate, if they lied so much and so often?

And what did that say about Emile, that that kind of person was his soulmate?

But Emile wasn’t one to judge so quickly. All he wanted was to meet his soulmate, and he knew he’d love them no matter what.

The first thing Emile noticed when he woke up was the firework-like feeling in his heart, earlier than usual, but not too surprising. It happened once. Twice. Thrice. Four times in a row, before it calmed down again, and Emile took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for it to start up again.

To his surprise, it didn’t, so he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He patted his bedside table a few times, before finding his glasses and slipping them on.

The fireworks returned once in the shower, startling and causing him to almost slip, though he caught himself just in time.

Twice during breakfast.

(The first happened while he was pouring milk into cereal, making him jolt and spill milk over the side of the bowl.)

And then it didn’t happen again until Emile reached the building he worked at, which was simultaneously both a disappointment and a relief: a feeling which Emile was rather used to at this point. As he approached the front doors, he could hear two young men about his age having a conversation just between the building Emile worked at and the next. They were only a few feet away from him, and talking loudly enough, so Emile overheard them without having to strain to listen.

“Wow, I just love the shirt you have on, Remus,” said a masculine voice, dripping with sarcasm.

The moment the words left his mouth, a firework went off in Emile’s chest, and he paused, his hand freezing halfway to the handle of the door. He swallowed. Was that a coincidence, just some interesting timing? Or...

Another voice laughed loudly, followed by the sound of someone clapping another on the back. “Ha! I see you’re still as dickish as ever, Jan. Never change!”

“And I see your clothes are just as clean as ever.”

Another firework.

Emile turned his head, finally taking a look at the man with either impeccable timing or a soul that would fit his perfectly. He was short, though Emile was, too, with curly black hair, a yellow button-up shirt and a black bowler hat on his head. There was a shiny, coiled snake-shaped earring hanging from the one ear that Emile could see, and he wore a pair of clean, lemon yellow gloves.

His expression was amused, with a half-smirk and raised eyebrows, and he was by far the most attractive man Emile had ever seen. Emile’s breath caught in his throat, and he knew.

He knew.

Well, he figured he should probably check first, just in case he was wrong, but he knew.

Emile pulled his hand back from the door handle. He snuck a quick glance at his watch. There was still half an hour left until his first patient of the day arrived. He let out a sigh of relief. He had time to wait, and listen to the man who he hoped would start lying again.

His eavesdropping was probably incredibly unsubtle, but the man wasn’t facing Emile, his attention fully on the friend in front of him, so he fortunately didn’t notice.

“How is Roman?” Emile’s maybe-soulmate asked his friend.

The friend blew a raspberry. “He sucks! He’s so annoying. Yesterday, he stole my cereal, and then he wouldn’t even admit to it! Asshole.”

The maybe-soulmate clicked his tongue.

“You have my sympathies,” he spoke in that same smooth, sarcastic tone, with a slight hiss on the ‘s’, making his friend let out an exaggerated mock-offended sound, hand over heart.

(Firework.)

“Rude! You know, maybe you’d get laid more if you weren’t such a bitch.”

“I’m sure.”

(Firework.)

“Whatever. Did you know that ducks have corkscrew-shaped penises?”

The maybe-soulmate let out a disgusted sound. “Wow. I’m so glad you told me that.” (Firework.) He then let out a sigh. “Why are you like this?” He asked in a regular tone.

His friend shrugged and grinned at him. “Dunno.”

Emile’s heart was pounding harder and harder with every firework that went off inside of him, so loud that he could feel it in his ears. His hands were shaking and he was sure his staring was probably very obvious. It was a wonder he hadn’t been noticed by the pair, yet, though a mother with her child had given him a weird look as they walked past him.

“Well, as fun as this conversation is-” (Firework.) “Don’t you have work, now? It’ll piss Remy off if you’re late, you know how he gets.”

“Ugh, who cares? Fuck that bitch.”

“You should care, he might fire you.”

“He’s my cousin! He won’t fire me.”

“It’s Remy. You’re annoying, of course he would.”

The tiniest of fireworks went off in Emile’s chest at the word ‘annoying’. Apparently, the maybe-soulmate was fond enough of his friend that he only sort of found him annoying.

The friend huffed and crossed his arms. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

“You should care. If you’re unemployed you won’t be able to afford all that inedible food you like so much.”

“I can eat garbage!”

“Literally, how are you still alive? You’re going to poison yourself and die young.”

Emile waited for a firework that never came.

The friend shrugged again, showing that he apparently had no qualms about poisoning himself and dying young. The maybe-soulmate sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a brief moment as he took a deep breath.

“What am I, your mother?” He asked his friend. “Go on, shoo!” He made shooing gestures with both hands. “Get to work!”

The friend tilted his head back and cackled, but began to walk backwards in the gestured direction.

“Ha, kinky!” He called out as he turned and continued to walk down the street.

“There is nothing kinky about me making you go to work so you don’t get fired,” the maybe-soulmate shouted back, louder than he probably intended, as his expression turned sheepish at the few stares that came his way after that.

He sighed again, and Emile was suddenly struck by the realisation that he really, really needed to talk to this man now, before he walked away, or he might never get the chance to find his soulmate again. And he was now almost certain that this man was his soulmate. So many fireworks at just the right times had to mean something. This couldn’t have just been a coincidence.

He took a deep breath, grounding himself and clenching his hands into fists.

Then, he marched over to the man he hoped was his soulmate – perhaps a little too determined and aggressive, as the man gave him a slightly alarmed, confused look when he stopped in front of him.

The first thing that slipped from Emile’s mouth was a lie.

“My name isn’t Emile Picani,” he said, before cringing internally.

Perhaps that wasn’t the best introduction.

The other man gave him a bewildered look, but the moment the lie came out, his hand shot up to cover his heart.

“What?”

“I- just- hear me out. Humour me. Please lie to me, just- just quickly. I’m testing something.”

Realisation crossed the other man’s face, and his eyes widened. He looked Emile over quickly: a down and up that was over in an instant – just a quick flick of his eyes – but made Emile’s heart beat harder and faster.

“That’s-” the other man breathed. “Okay. Uh... I hate your cardigan.”

Firework.

“I hate your hat,” Emile said back, and the reacting twitch of the other man’s eyebrows at just the right time made him feel like he was floating.

“Your make-up is appalling.”

Firework.

“I don’t like your hair.”

“Wow...” the other man looked back at him with an astonished expression that Emile was sure was mirrored on his own face. “That’s- that’s not a coincidence.”

Emile shook his head. “No, I... I don’t think it is.”

“That’s- you’re my-”

“-Soulmate,” Emile finished.

The other man took a deep breath. “Wow...” he repeated.

“Yeah...”

There was a beat.

Then, the other man lifted and held out one gloved hand for Emile to shake. Emile took it without hesitation, shaking it easily and enthusiastically. Before he could stop himself, the delight that was filling up inside of him bubbled out of him with a giggle, and the other man gave Emile a soft smile in return that made him feel like he could do anything.

Climb a million mountains. Dance amongst a million stars.

It felt like he could do anything, anything he wanted, just as long as this man kept looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“I’m Janus,” he finally introduced himself. “Janus Sanders.”

“Emile Picani.”

Janus’s smile turned into an amused half-smirk. “Yeah,” he said. “I got that.”

“I, um...” Emile trailed off, finally releasing Janus’s hand and adjusting his pastel pink tie. “I have to go – work. I have a patient coming soon, and I have to finish my paperwork before then. But, um... can I get your number, maybe?”

“Absolutely.”

Emile smiled, relieved, especially at the distinct lack of a firework in his chest. The astonishment and enthusiastic smile on Janus’s face spoke for themselves well enough, but it was always nice to know for sure. They exchanged numbers quickly, before pocketing their phones again.

“I suppose I’ll see you around, Emile,” Janus said, speaking his name slowly, like he was tasting and savouring it: like dessert.

It made Emile feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Have a horrible day,” Emile said.

Janus’s smile grew at the resulting firework, making Emile’s matching smile grow, too.

“Have a horrible day.”

(Firework.)

#me #writing #emceit #sanders sides #sanders shorts #emile picani #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #soulmate au #human au #a series of soulmate aus #fluff

189 notes · View notes

immabethehero · 4 years ago

Text

Chase’s Bday Present Pt 1

Runs in holding a latte *wheeze...* I’m here! And I have three presents for Chase because I’m indecisive as hell! So! Here is the first birthday present, a sweet little ditty I wrote!

CW: talk of food, slight body horror and stitches mention (Robbie), and Soft Anti

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

The Septic house was in disarray. Jameson Jackson frantically polished the stairway and furniture until it sparkled, Marvin the Magnificent washed the dishes while Jackieboy Man dried them, and Antisepticeye cleaned up the living room seats. All the while, Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, loomed over all of them, barking orders while cleaning the floors. Robbie the zombie was the only one not under Schneep’s scrutiny, having wisely taken shelter in the laundry room, folding clothes and ironing while waiting to put the next load in. Sirius and Sam, Marvin’s cat and Henrik’s dog respectively, had taken to hiding upstairs.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Anti said as he vacuumed up the couch and cushioned seats. “It’s just Chase. He’s seen this house before, why bother cleaning it?”

“Chase hasn’t been here in awhile! I want him to receive a warm welcome back!” Henrik explained. “I do hope he enjoyed the cottage with Stacy and the kids though.”

“It’s only been two weeks! Not much has changed since!” Anti groaned.

“Jameson turned you into a turtle,” Marvin pointed out. Jameson snickered at the memory.

“Henrik tried his first bit of magic!” Jackie added. “Managed to turn Jameson into a duck!”

“See? Loads happened while he was gone,” Henrik finished. Anti rolled his eyes and went out to beat the rugs.

“Jameson, can you tune the piano? One of us might want to play something upon his arrival, and we can’t have the piano broken when we do so,” Henrik asked. Jameson nodded and happily left his cloth on the staircase, hands aching to touch the piano.

Henrik put the vacuum away and turned to the flower vase on the living room table. Daffodils. They didn’t seem quite as bright as they did earlier.

“Do you think we should change the flowers in the vase?” Henrik wondered out loud.

“Daffodils are Chase’s favourite flowers!” Anti yelled from outside. “I think we’re okay!”

“They look so dull, though,” Henrik remarked.

“I have an idea!” Marvin cried out. He dried his hands and ran over. “Stargazer lilies are also Chase’s favourite flower! Jameson and I have been growing them in our garden while he was gone. I can pluck a few and replace them!”

“Aren’t they poisonous to cats?” Jackie asked, nervously looking over at Sirius, who had descended to lie on the steps.

“Sirius hates flowers, the smell bothers her. She won’t go near them. But just in case-” Marvin picked up the vase and put them on the dining room table, then summoned a forcefield to keep Sirius away. Just for good measure, he also created two plastic cucumbers and placed them around the plant. Henrik and Jackie snickered. Marvin could hear Sirius scowling at him.

“I’ll get some lilies!” Marvin said, picking the daffodils up and running out. He almost collided with Anti, who was holding at least six rugs. Anti threw the rugs down one by one, then flopped onto the couch, yawning.

“Anti, don’t tell me you’re tired already!” Henrik said, sighing exasperatedly. “There’s still so much to do!”

“Like what?” mumbled Anti, eyes threatening to close.

“Like a treat! I was thinking of making a sweet dessert for Chase!” Henrik announced.

“But we just cleaned the kitchen!” complained Jackie.

“Relax, I’ll clean everything when I’m done,” Henrik reassured. “You go rest, I’ll be hogging the kitchen for a while!”

Jackie nodded and gratefully stumbled over to the couch, hoping to catch some winks before Chase’s return.

“Can I help?” Robbie asked, finally emerging from the laundry room.

{I can help as well!} offered Jameson bouncing back from the piano.

“Thanks guys,” Henrik said. “This is a new recipe we’ll be making: Cheddar Biscuits.”

Robbie and Jameson froze and stared at Henrik quizzically. “What?”

“Cheddar biscuits. Stacy emailed me the recipe,” Henrik explained. “They’re apparently really good.”

“Even the name sounds like a treat!” Jameson sighed. “Let’s make them!”

Henrik, Jameson and Robbie spent the next hour or so in the kitchen. Jameson and Henrik did the bulk of the work, Jameson mixing dry ingredients while Henrik did liquid, while Robbie shredded cheese and melted butter with pieces of garlic in them.

Finally, they clumped the mixture together and spread butter on them, then popped them in the oven and washed up the dishes.

When they were done, at least 24 golden brown scones had been made. The six egos marvelled over the glorious little treats. Even Sam and Sirius couldn’t resist coming over and squeezing through to sniff the food. Anti reached a hand out, only to have it smacked away by Henrik.

“Wait until Chase is home, you greedy monster!” he scolded. Anti grunted in frustration.

The biscuits were placed in a little basket with two napkins on top to keep them fresh, then hidden in the bottom cupboard next to the oven, where Henrik kept his coffee beans. No one with a braincell dared to go near Henrik’s coffee supply, and only few ever survived getting in.

“Everything is finished! We can rest now!” Marvin cried in delight.

“Can’t wait for Chase to see!” Jackie said happily. “How long before he returns?”

Henrik checked his watch. “Not until 6 o’clock at the latest!”

The egos collectively groaned in frustration. Only 1:30 pm and now they had to wait!

“You woke us all up at 6:30 in the fucking morning for this?! We could have slept a little longer you know!” Jackie snapped.

“Yeah, especially after you kept us all up with you Facetiming Chase until midnight last night!” Marvin added.

“If Chase notices the bags under my eyes, it’s because of you!” Jameson griped.

“At least everything is ready now!” Henrik reasoned. “Now all we have to do is wait! And not mess up the house in those few hours! If you want to do something, make sure it involves little movement or anything that could shake the house up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking a nap!” He flounced upstairs, leaving the egos to find any activity to pass the time.

Two hours passed. Jameson taught Robbie how to play cribbage. Jackie and Anti attempted to teach Marvin how to play, or rather, cheat at Mario Kart. Henrik switched between pacing the front hallway and playing Solitaire and Bio Inc Redemption on his laptop.

“Henrik, do sit down and relax!” Jameson finally said after Henrik got up for the thirteen time.

“I can’t help it! I miss Chase! I want to talk to him again!” Henrik moaned.

“You spent three hours with him on Facetime last night!” Anti exclaimed.

“There is a very big difference between Facetiming someone and seeing them in person!” Henrik retorted. “Do you know how hard it is to talk to him and not smell his vanilla scent or feel his warm embrace? I miss seeing him at the table with his messy hair and stupid puns. I miss hearing his laugh in person. I miss him so badly.”

“Are we jokes to you?!” Marvin demanded. “We miss him too, Henrik, but we have each other. You literally said you enjoyed sitting next to me on movie nights!”

“I know… maybe I’m just being too clingy,” Henrik sighed, sitting down beside Marvin.

Anti snapped his fingers and Mario Kart showed up on Henrik’s computer screen. “Here. Try playing a few games with us and he’ll come sooner.”

Another hour passed. Jameson read. Henrik screamed in fury as he lost another round of Mario Kart. Anti laughed at him. Marvin gave up and started playing Animal Crossing. Jackie grabbed a snack and watched Youtube. Robbie and Sam were fast asleep on the floor. Jameson laughed softly and conjured a blanket to put over them, then went back to his reading.

Henrik was raging so loudly they almost didn’t hear the doorbell. Jameson was the first to hear it. He whistled to get the others’ attention. Robbie woke up and groggily rubbed his eyes.

“Do you hear that?” Jameson asked, putting his ear up to listen. Another ring. Then a voice cried out, “Hello? Are you going to let me in? Did you already forget me? Have I been kicked out?”

Henrik gasped in delight and almost threw his laptop onto the floor, but Anti was quick to save it as the doctor jumped out his seat and dashed over the front door, swinging it open.

Chase Brody stood in the doorway, still playing with the doorbell. He jumped when he noticed the door open.

“CHASE!!!!” Henrik squealed, throwing himself on the vlogger. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!” Chase giggled as Henrik showered him with kisses and squeezed him tightly. Sam danced around them, barking happily.

“Hello, Henrik. Long time, no see.” Chase waved to the others. “Hey guys!”

“Chase! Welcome home!” Marvin said, running over to hug him. “We missed you too, but probably not as much as Henrik.”

“Yeah… Henrik? Could you let me go, please?” Chase wheezed. Henrik was starting to suffocate him. “I… can’t… breathe…”

“Come inside! We made treats!” Robbie cried, dragging Chase in by the hand.

“Did you now?” Chase sniffed the air. “Ooh, I can smell it!”

“We also ordered some chocolate snacks from Shawn Flynn’s Sweet Menagerie, just to celebrate your return!” Jackie added.

“Sounds awesome!” Chase exclaimed.

{Come, make yourself at home!} Jameson said. Chase was led to the couch, where his feet were propped up and a blanket was thrown over him. Sam jumped up beside him and curled up next to him, lying her head on his lap.

Henrik and Jackie set the table while Jameson and Anti got the food out. Chase would have happily gotten up to join them, but he was too tired to move, and Sam wouldn’t budge.

Marvin chuckled when he saw the sight. “Why don’t we eat in the living room tonight? Turn on Netflix and have a little movie fest?” The egos were quick to agree, and Henrik served Chase’s plate to him ona tray, choosing to sit next to him. Sam moved to the other side of the couch, letting Henrik in.

“Here you go! Dinosaur nuggets with mashed potatoes!” Henrik announced, setting the plate down. “Jameson convinced me to mix garlic butter into the potatoes this time, like you used to do!”

“It smells delicious!” Chase exclaimed in ecstasy. He dipped a nugget in the mashed potatoes and ate it, humming happily.

“So what movie are we watching?” Robbie asked, grabbing the remote.

“You’ve probably seen quite a few new movies at Stacy’s cottage,” Jackie told Chase. “Why don’t you decide?”

Chase shrugged. “Just a few. None of us could ever agree, so it was rare for us to watch a new movie. But we all agreed on this sweet little film.” Chase flipped through Amazon Prime until he found a title called This Beautiful Fantastic.

“It’s about a girl who wants to become a writer and slowly learns how to become a gardener.” Chase pressed play and they watched the film. Chase, Henrik and Sam on the couch, Marvin on the purple reclining chair, Anti on the teal green armchair, and Jameson, Jackie and Robbie on the ground.

Halfway through the movie, Jackie remarked, “That father reminds me a lot of you, Chase. I can see why you liked it.”

“Vern?” Chase asked. “He’s just a dad trying to raise his kids. What makes you think I’m like him?”

“You’re both sweet, and a total dork,” Marvin said. Chase playfully threw a pillow at him. Marvin snickered and exaggeratedly hugged the pillow. “I’m keeping this.”

“You both love cooking,” Jameson added.

“And you’re a devoted family man!” Henrik interjected.

“You are all so kind to me,” Chase said with a sigh. “I don’t deserve you guys.”

“Shut up, of course you do!” Marvin said.

“No I don’t!” Chase playfully retorted.

“Shhh, lies!” Jackie hissed, smiling.

“Stop!” Chase cried, blushing. “Seriously though, I didn’t think I would be getting the royal treatment after only two weeks away. I really didn’t do anything.”

“Funny, that’s what we said whenever we returned from vacations and travels,” Jackie remarked. “That didn’t stop you from throwing us a welcome back party.”

“It didn’t stop you from giving me a cake after my 100th successful surgery,” Henrik said.

“Or taking me to a fancy restaurant on my first full day without popping a stitch or losing a limb,” Robbie added.

“You bought me a handsome vest when I got that role I so desperately wanted,” Jameson reminisced.

“You’re a wonderful test subject for all my new spells,” Marvin said.

“You always celebrate us and our successes,” Jackie said. “After all you’ve done for us, I think it’s safe to say you deserve the best from us.”

Chase felt his eyes water up. Face red, he looked down, feeling embarrassed. He rubbed his eyes, smiling. “Thank you. You guys are always so sweet.”

Henrik gently kissed his forehead. “Welcome back, Chase.”

Chase finished wiping his eyes and looked up. “So. What happened when I was gone?”

Henrik grinned. “So, remember when I told you about getting magic lessons from Marvin? Funny story...”

~~~~~

@milo-kno, here’s your punishment >:3 Part one!

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada,@meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans, @the-pastel-kitsune, @bupine, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milo-kno, @pixelpixie-pix, @why-killed-markiplier

#apparently i can write #immabethehero #jacksepticeye #chase brody #writersofjack #writers of jack

32 notes · View notes

reginaldqueribundus · 4 years ago

Text

what is a One Piece?

One Piece is a wacky pirate adventure about inherited will, found family, genocide, and the chains of classism and capitalism that enslave us all. Everyone wants to be a pirate because a pirate with an excellent moustache died and left his ultimate treasure somewhere. A rubber idiot and his eight nine platonic life partners hunt for this treasure so he can become the Best Pirate Ever™ while fighting other pirates, crying a lot and overthrowing the occasional head of state. But perhaps the real treasure is the friends they made along the way, and/or an 800-year-old mystery involving ancient superweapons and a bunch of people with the letter D in their names. No one knows because Eiichiro Oda has been writing this story since 1892 and is expected to finish it shortly before the heat death of the universe.

One Piece takes place in a world of mostly oceans all cut off from each other by a giant wall of mountains or nests of colossal sea monsters, yet somehow has a one-world government. Much like real life, the populace has to hand over most of their hard-earned cash to a bunch of assholes on a mountaintop who already have all the money they could ever need and in return are permitted to scrape by on whatever is left. The entire planet is run by inbred spacesuit-wearing fucks with Dr. Seuss hair who can’t go five seconds without committing multiple crimes against humanity. They don’t seem to do anything other than horrible atrocities and the government is actually run by four old bearded white men and one Gandhi with a sword. They enforce their will with a more fashion-conscious version of the CIA and a global army of sailors, most of whom are either corrupt thugs or violent fanatics, formerly led by the literal Buddha but now led by a militant volcano. When they’re not busy oppressing people, they kill pirates, except they can’t kill any of the ones who matter, or when they do it just inspires more pirates. In response, they have recruited their own private army of pirates, who primarily use their diplomatic immunity to get away with crimes. Half the equator is ruled by überpirates who run their own countries, usually built around an aggressively-enforced theme like “the animal kingdom” or “diabetes” and the only thing stopping them from overthrowing the government is that they all hate each other. The worst ones are an immortal alcoholic dragon (not to be confused with the guy named Dragon) who wants to start WW3 because he’s tired of being alive, a giant woman who just wants to eat candy all day with her 382 children and her talking hat, and a literal black hole who really needs to start flossing more.

The main protagonists are Hat Gang, a found family of misfits whose capacity for hijinks is surpassed only by their combined childhood trauma. They’re always fighting oppression, saving children and preventing violent coup attempts… y’know, typical pirate stuff. Three of them fear everything, three of them fear nothing, one just makes bone puns, and all seven are complete dumbasses, with two entire non-dipshits to hold it all together.

Captain Rubber Boy, the most ride or die bitch you will ever meet. This motherfucker will fight god for you if you buy him lunch. Hat Gang is named after his iconic hat. If he sees you picking on somebody weaker than you, watch out.

a green-haired bitch with no sense of direction who cheats at sword fighting by using 3 swords at once (he holds the third one in his mouth)

thief girl, can control the frickin weather yet somehow is not as strong as the guy who kicks people really hard

Pinocchio with a cool slingshot

homophobic chef

a reindeer with a medical degree

archaeology lady, who usually has the brain cells at any given time, is looking for a whole century of history that just disappeared

a soda-powered cyborg who refuses to wear pants

a violin-playing skeleton

a big fish who can drive

a princess who rides around on a duck (she hasn’t hung out with them in years but she still counts, dammit)

There’s also a mafia boss made of sand, a drag queen with a giant head trying to overthrow the government, a Terminator in a teddy bear hat, secondhand smoke, and 10 billion more characters who all have their own unique weird-sounding laugh. Many of them have eaten a magic fruit that tastes like toasted assholes but gives you a random superpower, and in exchange you can never take a bath again. There are many different kinds of these fruit. You could become an unkillable demigod composed of pure light, an animorph, or spin your arms real fast. This is not counting the myriad other powers in the series that have nothing to do with magic fruit, like hair tentacles, karate that lets you fly, and the Force.

The story consists of 8,918,472 chapters broken down into 563 story arcs:

Rubber boy meets the sword guy and they beat up a corrupt cop

Rubber boy meets thief girl and they beat up a clown

Rubber boy meets Pinocchio and they beat up a Freddy Krueger cosplayer

Rubber boy has to get a minimum wage job

Thief girl tries to leave but the gang saves her from a racist shark

The gang almost gets arrested

The gang sails over a mountain and saves a whale

Sword bitch fights a whole town (and wins). Princess joins the gang

The gang meets giant Vikings on a dinosaur island and almost get killed by the mafia

Thief girl almost dies so the gang goes to doctor land and leaves one reindeer richer

The gang takes the princess back to Egypt and stops Mr. Sandman and his mafia from fucking up the whole place

The gang decides to visit the sky because why not

They fight god (and win)

Pirate Olympics!!

The gang just want to get their damn ship fixed but the crew keeps falling apart and hands lady is being weird

The gang fights the CIA’s strongest furries to get hands lady back

We find out rubber boy’s dad is trying to destroy the government and his grandpa is a cop

The gang meets the skeleton and fights an army of zombies

Everything all goes to hell, also slavery

Rubber boy lands on an island of women who try to tear his dick off

He tries to rescue his brother who is made of fire, from pirate hell prison, and meets a big fish and a drag queen instead

They all break out of prison and fight in a giant war involving pirates, cops, killer robots, and earthquake man, everyone is dead

The gang chills for two years before getting back together

The gang fights another racist shark on the bottom of the sea

The gang teams up with Dr. Pirate and kidnaps a mad scientist

The gang goes to Toyland and shit is just fucked up, oh my god

The gang hangs out with a bunch of furries on the back of an elephant

Rubber boy, thief girl, reindeer and skeleton go to Candyland to rescue their chef and nearly get murdered over a chocolate cake

The kings of the world have a meeting and find out Rubber Boy has personally saved half their asses, also Oda drops a shit ton of plot hooks that’ll pay off in like 2 years

The gang goes to feudal Japan to save it from Satan and his army of dinosaurs

Yes, it requires a significant time commitment to read (almost as much as this post lol), but the characters and plot and the promise of finally seeing where all this shit is going make it all worthwhile. Also where else are you going to see Pinocchio and a reindeer fight a mole woman and a baseball player who hits exploding baseballs from his sentient bazooka that turns into a dachshund?

#one piece #long post #sam explains a thing #straw hat pirates #a post by me™#100

120 notes · View notes