#that died because of this with only exception that snake i was able to take out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonydustx · 5 months ago

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Hello, this my first request for you so here we go.

(Ace and Sabo are 10 and Luffy is 7)

So young ASL trio with sick f!reader. So reader fakes not being sick so she can still hang out with them because she dosen't want to be left out(plsss angst) But they find out when they were fighting training with each other and she falls to the ground and has a immense fever. Then when she gets some rest ect. they comfort her.

Double Thank you (also fluff at the end)

omggg I think your idea is so cute! So, there ended up being some changes, some little things that maybe I thought made more sense (or maybe I got excited about writing them). Maybe I focused too much on Ace and F!Reader's crush? Maybe... I hope you still like it

warnings: injury reader, two childs and their first crush. Worried Ace. Fluff.

It should have been another afternoon hunting some animals, planning your big escape or just laughing at the boys not being able to decide who would be captain, but you had to be stubborn, didn't you?

You were a year and a few months younger than Ace, but he insisted that you were too weak, too sensitive and you wanted to change that. Change the way Ace saw you. You had already invested in new dresses - perhaps stolen from the city, but he wouldn't need to know about that - in makeup, in trying to appear more friendly, but everything seemed in vain. Perhaps his strength would help win over the boy.

The idea that he might just want to protect you didn't cross your mind. Or the simple idea that he thought you were so beautiful that he didn't want to see you covered in mud or the blood of strange forest animals didn't seem plausible. Ace dreamed that one day he would be able to understand that.

On that sunny afternoon, you had decided that you would ride the huge serpent in the lake, something you had already seen the boys do, because it would be difficult for you?

"You have to be able to get the rope on him." Sabo shouted as he saw you climb the highest rock.

"There's still time to give up." Luffy warned and you just smiled, waving from above.

When the huge serpent appeared, you did as the blonde had taught you. He threw the rope and tried to climb onto what you suspected was her neck - I mean, do snakes have necks?

Laughing at your own thought, you supported your feet and contrary to what you could imagine or what Sabo had taught, you found no firmness. Just a slippery goo stew. You felt the rope release from your hand and it only took seconds for you to feel your body fall against the edge of the lake and your name was shouted in chorus.

"Are you okay? I tried to catch you, but I couldn't." Luffy shook you, being the first to reach you.

"Let me see!" Ace pushed the brothers away and touched your face, seeing you look at him. "How are you feeling?"

"A little sore, but it's no big deal." You tried to sit up, using his help. "It was a silly fall."

"Look how high you fell, it wasn't stupid at all." Sabo commented and pointed to your back. "I think a little thorn got in here."

"Can you take it off, please?" you asked and groaned as soon as you felt him pulling. "Thanks."

"Why did you go up there? Do you want to get hurt?" Ace said in an angry tone, watching you stand. "You could have died."

"I just wanted to show that I'm strong too." you said almost as emphatically as he did. "And I am strong!"

"You don't need to climb on giant animals to do this." Ace continued, while the other two just watched. "Don't ever do that again."

"Okay." you gave up, just nodding. "Can we go get something to eat now?"

"Of course, I managed to separate some fruit, come." He reached out to you and supported you for a few steps until you felt confident walking alone.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly for everyone. Almost everyone except you.

Little by little you felt your body being dominated by a strange sensation. A tingling and tiredness took over every inch of your being, in addition to excruciating pain. But you didn't want to have to give in and show Ace that you were feeling weak.

Just as the sun set that afternoon, you could feel your last remnants of strength also disappear, slowly fading away like the sun's rays.

"Hey!" you walked further behind, panting. "Go ahead, I'll meet you soon."

"What happened?" Ace noticed your strange behavior and tried to get closer, seeing you take a few steps back.

"Is nothing." your legs gave way and you fell backwards, face down on the ground.

"Something is wrong." Sabo muttered to Luffy. "Could it be those girl problems?"

"I don't think so." the youngest murmured back.

Meanwhile, Ace could feel a bad feeling washing over him. Seeing that you no longer had the strength to push him away, he approached, kneeling beside you.

"You're sweating." He touched your wet forehead and then moved his hand away. "And with fever."

"I-I'm oka-y…"

"Don't tell me everything's okay." Ace placed his hand on your back and saw you grunt in pain. He tried to repeat the gesture and the grumble came again. Without warning you, he lifted the back of your shirt, finding a red wound that was definitely starting to get infected. "Shit!"

"What's wrong Ace?" Sabo asked and the two tried to get closer.

"Go ahead, tell Dadan she's injured." he shouted and the two ran towards the shack. "Why didn't you say anything? This must hurt!"

"I d-don't w... d-dont w-ant to be weak. I can't be weak." You insisted, letting the pain wash over you. "But it hurts a lot Ace, it hurts a lot."

"Silly girl, you're not weak. Come on!" He knelt down and as best he could, he placed you on his back. "You are strong, very strong."

"Do not... lie." Your voice sounded sleepy, which worried the boy. He needed to keep your eyes open until an adult could take care of you.

"I'm not lying. You're strong, you're beautiful. I hope you choose to travel the seas with me." focusing on getting you home, Ace didn't seem worried about focusing on holding back his words. "I can be king of the pirates and you my queen."

"Ace…"

"Please stay awake, okay?" he asked, already spotting the hut.

As soon as Dadan caught up with Ace, everything became a blur for him. You being carried inside, the older woman's desperate screams, your small body lying there. He barely felt it when he was carried away.

"Boys…" Dadan's voice caught the three's attention. "You guys should have come sooner." and oddly enough, she wasn't mad.

"She is fine?" Luffy was the first to ask.

"No… I mean, it was probably some poison, some thorn. We have a lot of infection and it's going to be long days ahead." she explained, seeing the three of them look crestfallen. "I need you to cooperate during this period. No fights, no getting into trouble."

The next few days were like winding torture for Ace.

He knew he thought you were amazing and everything else that a boy so young could see in his first crush. But what was this agony in his chest? The need to keep peeking through the crack to see you there, breathing. The sudden idea of getting a gift for yourself. The worry that plagued him. Ace needed you to be okay. He had few reasons and meanings for his life, seeing you again had been the main one.

When Dadan said that you had woken up for a brief moment, he didn't rest until she let him come in and see you up close. Your pale face, your dry mouth, deep circles under your eyes. You needed to get out of that. But seeing your eyes blink and turn towards him. Oh, that was like a breath of life.

"Hey…" Ace tried to get your attention and saw your eyes close in front of him, once again. "You'll be fine."

"It's okay, you'll be fine, I promise. Dadan said you need to rest." he pointed out and let the jewel dance on his fingers before he placed it in your hand. "Here, for you."

"Ace?" even with your eyes closed, you were still awake and that was enough to awaken a small flame of hope within the boy. "I'll... die?"

"What is it?"

"A gift. A promise." he bent down, whispering even more quietly. "We'll always be together, okay? And next time, I promise to take better care of you."

"Thanks Ace." as soon as you felt him move away, you tried to hold on to what you could, realizing you had only grabbed a piece of cloth. "Please…Stay here."

"Of course, how foolish of me to leave without warning." He pretended to settle down next to you, sitting on the floor and taking your hand. "I promise not to leave your side."

He tried to keep his promise, he even tried to defy Dadan and remain there while the woman tried to drag him out of the room. Outside, Luffy and Sabo were as worried as he was, except they both didn't want to interrupt their brother with his concerns.

At great cost and with the excuse that he needed to help you bathe, Dadan managed to push Ace away. Forcing him to eat decently, to see sunlight, to interact, even if the boy did it with a frown.

It was two afternoons like this until Ace started to lose his patience. His furious footsteps approached the door and when he was about to open it, he was met with an unexpected sight. You there, standing, smiling in front of him.

"Hey, where are you going?" your voice - still not as excited and firm as before - asked and you barely had time to continue asking as Ace's arms circled you in a strong hug, so strong that your feet stopped finding the ground for a moment.

"You came back." he murmured and had your brief moment stolen by the two other brothers, who hugged each other next to you two.

"We thought you had died." Luffy found himself crying for a change, this time he didn't make a point of hiding it.

"Who said she died?" Sabo grumbled.

"You." the youngest retorted and they continued exchanging barbs.

You just enjoyed the comfort of being back with your group, your friends and Ace, who made you feel anxious being so close to you.

"You brats." Dadan arrived separating you, taking some care when pulling you from the boys' arms. "She's still fragile."

"Sorry." the three asked in unison.

"But she needs to sunbathe, take a walk to start regaining her energy." the eldest explained, part of her wanting to laugh when she saw the three pairs of attentive and worried eyes directed towards you and her. "You can't go far without getting into trouble."

"Yes ma'am." the three offered in unison again. "We promise not to let her almost die anymore." Sabo swore, striking the best pose possible.

Leaving you alone, Ace reached his hand towards you and as you moved closer to him, he could see the small golden ring on a pendant around your neck.

"Oh, that!" you started as soon as you saw his gaze towards the necklace. "The ring kept falling off my finger, so I found this chain in Dadan's things and decided to hang it up. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Looks good on you." Ace insisted on giving you his hand to take and this time, you did so without hesitation. "I promise to keep an eye on you."

"I promise to pick you up. It's just until I have a decent boat and then it'll be you and me against the world." Ace said goodbye with watery eyes, just like you. Feeling that maybe this was the right moment, even after years of searching for such a moment, he moved closer to kiss you and saw you look away.

So the two of you walked together, little fingers intertwined.

"No." you punctuated with a brief sob, trying to wipe the tears from your own face. "I promise to wait for you and to be yours forever, as we already agreed. But that's only when you keep your promise and come back for me."

Feeling your feet freeze you in place and your mouth dry in anxiety, you saw him approach with almost slow steps, analyzing you from top to bottom. Waiting for a reaction.

The memory was the first thing that crossed your mind as soon as you saw a familiar face in that bar. He was bigger, stronger, and surrounded by people, but he was still as familiar as the last time you saw him.

Before you took the lead and went to him, you were noticed by someone who was with him, who pointed out the fact that a woman had been staring at him for so long.

"Is it really you?"

"I'm sorry, I broke my promise to wait for you." was the first thing you said as you felt his hands gently cup your face.

"You're here..." the voice came out like a small secret between the two of you. "Dadan said you left right after Luffy."

"I needed to find you, I mean, I broke a promise about waiting for you…" you raised your hand to your face and only then did Ace notice the ring he had given you. "If you want to give up…"

The taste on Ace's lips was mixed with alcohol and pure surprise, after all you would give him the chance to give up on his promise, to choose a life free of you.

"I will never give up on us." he pointed out, the two of you just ignored the screams of what you suspected were his crewmates. "I love you my pretty girl."

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #portgas ace x reader #ace x you #ace x reader #asl brothers #asl trio

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 3 - Before The Day Is Over

"Michael?" the red haired beauty asked from the bed, where she was embroidering a dress. "Why did Gallant kill his grandma?" Langdon was sitting on the chair, writing tirelessly at his laptop. His fingers stopped typing, and he blinked for a second, thinking of a proper answer that wouldn't upset her innocence... Too much. "He has been lied to, and oppressed, by a person whom he deemed trustworthy family. His lonesome neediness brought him to desperation once he found out his beloved grandmother sold his life, for a slim chance of living, knowing very well that Venable's rules prohibited fornication." he watched with careful eyes as the woman garbed in grey rags - O, how he hated that unseeming outfit on her. While all the most worthless of pieces of stale meat were enjoying fine silks and royal treatment, she was forced to scrub the floor with her own delicate hands, and see to their every capricious whim. Her fingers tightened their grasp around the soft material of the dress, and her brows furrowed. "And... Why would she tell on her own grandson? Why would she bring him to the gallows herself and cut the rope holding the guillotine above his neck? Acting as judge, jury and executioner from the shadows, against your own family... That is..." she bit that plump, pink bottom lip of hers, and how enticing she looked. "Because, my darling - People are inherently evil. When a situation such as this arrives, where their lives hangs in by a thin thread of hope, they would trample over each other like cattle, just to survive." the blond arose from the chair, and with his hands behind his back, he slowly paced along the bed.

"But you said you could take all of us, or none. The matter of empty spots was not a problem. And you refused to disclose any such criteria of choosing. They all thought they had advantages and disadvantages over one another... Yet you clarified it was not the age, nor the body that you analysed, but who they are as persons. Acts of betrayal and the impulsivity of revenge did nothing to aid their case nor secure a spot to the Sanctuary." Michael found himself smiling at her. He missed such talks with her so much. It wasn't that she didn't understand the reason for people's evil actions, but that none had any justification, except the fickle emotions tainting their ration. Humans were so easily... Corrupted.

"That is just the nature of mankind, my darling, there is little one can do about it. God - If there even is one out there - Created us in his image, though he cursed us all, because of a single mistake that the first generation did. Even then, the snake with the silver tongue was able to bewitch those two into sinning... But was it the snake's fault for speaking the words it was created to whisper, or Adam and Eve's fault, for listening and choosing to disobey their father? Likewise, it is the gun's fault that one man died from a bullet, or the person pulling the trigger?" Katrina tilted her head upwards, her eyes meeting his own voluntarily, for the first time since they've been reunited. "I would much rather die than allow any harm to come your way, Michael." she admitted in such a delicate voice, that Michael's smile only widened in disbelief. Such a bold declaration of selfless, pure love was something that she would be capable of vocalising. In a swift move, Langdon found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands on her face, eyes wide in wonder, star-struck as though he was seeing Divine Providence, the same way a leper was cured by Jesus from his leprosy, and Lazarus was resurrected four days after his death. "I know, my sweet angel, I know." he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "You have always been sacred." Michael reached for the needle and the dress, throwing them far away, in a corner. When the beauty attempted to protest, she was silenced by the man shifting his position to kneel between her legs, his hands holding her own. "No, Michael, I-- I need to finish this dress before the Masquerade!" she whimpered. "I-I don't... I don't want to get punished for disobeying!" he could feel her trembling under his touch. "The last person who dared tell Venable that you are the leader here got... Severely punished." the fear she was so evidently displaying almost aroused him, were it not for the power trip of that wretch who dared terrify his beloved. "My love, what is there for you to fear anymore? Venable's word will mean nothing to you, once we've departed for the Sanctuary." he reassured tenderly. "Your beautiful fingers are bleeding, my darling. How many times have you pricked them, in you attempt at rushing the heavy work?" "Don't blame my incompetence on the work I have been assigned to do." she muttered, snatching her hands back and holding them to her chest. "Until the day that we leave, I have no choice but to obey the rules instilled, be them fair or not." "I will not allow you to do such a silly thing." the man chuckled, leaning closer to her. "You and I will go together to Venable's silly party, and you will be wearing the most beautiful dress there is, and your gorgeous hair will be let loose to dance around you every time I twirling you into my arms - All that, just to spite that self-important bitch who dared torment you." his voice, hushed yet dark, held an ominous tone to it.

Langdon's fingers gingerly trailed down, from her cheek to her jaw, and down to her neck, and to her cleavage, where he began unbuttoning the shirt-like dress with the colour of dust. She said nothing, though she needn't, as her cheeks were a shade of the deepest red. She felt the sash holding the apron over laxing and being set loose, and onto the ground. She felt so vulnerable, being unburdened by another, though she needn't be, as she had slept in his own shirt, just two or three nights prior. Why was it so different, so... Intimate, when another was doing it, looking so deep into her eyes, like a hawk watching its prey... No, rather, like an artist watching his most beloved masterpiece... His magnum opus. For Michael, the woman laying underneath him so timidly, like lamb with the softest, whitest fleece, was his salvation, the single spark of light in the endless pit of darkness, in which he felt himself succumbing like quicksand. She was that single, thin spider web string of silver hope on which he alone was clingy onto, like a man lost at desert, desperate for his oasis.

"Will you ever be able to forgive my unsightly behaviour, my love? I have been waiting so long... I have been pining so long... And search far and wide, agonising over the thought of having allowed you to be lost in this mayhem. I cannot bare living in a world without you, it is half a life, if even that much. Stumbling alone in the dark, without you was what most would describe as torment." his words were seducing, yet sincere. "I have wished to help you remember on your own, at the pace you needed for you to feel safe. I wished to earn your trust, naturally, and for you to develop your own feelings for me, the same as you did back then, when we were so young and impressionable, and so, so innocent." the man sighed, feeling his own arousal burning him hotter than the blight of hell, as though he was walking on brimstone. "But I cannot resist the temptation whenever you are around me. I feel suffocated with desire whenever I see your beauty, and my heart stops with love when those green eyes of yours gaze at me so tenderly. My whole body trembles with greedy concupiscence, just feeling your sweet perfume... And my skin immolates with every spot you touch." his body over hers, unveiled in the warmth of candlelight, the way God created them, Katrina's chest, glued to his own, could feel the rapid and uneven beating of Michael's heart. Her whole body felt incinerated with a hazy sensation of kindliness and heat, a sort of comfort that... Seemed to be transcend her into new planes of existence. "Michael?" she found herself whispering as she wrapped his slender arms gingerly around his torso, pulling him even closer to her, if that were even humanly possible. "Tell me something. Anything. I want to hear your voice." "I love you." the woman let out a soft gasp - She couldn't understand how, or why, but she could feel the honesty of his soul. "... Do you mean it?" she asked, wishing to feel the gentle caress of truth washing her in waves again. "I have loved you since the first time I saw you." he admittance was gospel. "Michael." she whispered. "My soul can... Feel... That your words hold candour. I cannot explain how or... Why... But I can feel it." Michael shifted his body so his own arms will be embracing his lover, one arm around her body, the other, serving as rest for her head. He leaned down to touch his forehead to her own. "As a witch, you were able to feel when people lied to you. It is a variation of one of the Seven Wonders, namely Divination. You are reaching new steps in your awakening, my love. Familiarity is helping you remember who you are." the adoration of his voice, praising and encouraging her so tenderly, made her feel as though she couldn't breathe, yet for once, it wasn't out of fear. It was an overwhelming sense of endearment and fondness. "Have we done this before?" the pink peonies in her cheeks glowed with heat, speaking so sinfully. "No." he smiled. "We were so young back then, and the world around us was dictating our every action. It is different now. It is just you and I, my sweet angel. Just you and I."

Morning had arrived faster than expected, and Langdon's eyes shot open, his head tilted to the side. A velvety curtain of scarlet hair was draped all over the beautiful woman cuddled so peacefully in his arms. She hadn't woken up yet. It was the sole night when she hadn't been tormented by nightmares. Michael was satisfied with the outcome. Not only was his sweet angel sleeping so tranquil, but the events of the night kept replaying into his head, making his smile in delight. Every new expression that he's never had the privilege of witnessing before, and every honeyed thrill she sang to him made him shiver with lust and greed. What a sinner he was, indulging in every one of his hedonistic desires, with the woman he cherished endlessly - She made him feel insatiable, forever hungry, only for her. Though he wanted to spend more time bathing in her restful grace and feel her chest going up and down with every breath she took, to feel the soft crimson locks around his hand and he idly plays and caresses it... He had work to do. So much work, that ultimately will lead to the supreme climax of each and every one of these worthless urchins dying a most painful death. They deserved it. They were all tainted. Disgusting. Predictable.

They were all so flawlessly human.

Michael carefully got off the bed, admiring the way his beloved looked, swallowed in his dark, disheveled shirt, the blanket only half draped over her body, and he went to get ready to leave the room. He got off on tempting and toying with all these idiots. She was going to be safe in his room - After all, who'd dare sneak in? Except for the dumbass couple whom he indirectly seduced into searching for his well-written words and finding out the regulations on their own, and encouraging them to sin.

Whilst away, Langdon's door was kicked open, and from inside the room, the red haired Grey squealed in fright, jumping to her knees, wrapping her body instinctively with the blanket. Squinting her tired eyes, she saw Miss Mead and Venable, along with two other large, muscular women who served as henchmen.

"You know the regulations, Grey." Venable spat, even more disgust, as it was Langdon she was fucking, and not one of the many survivors. "A smart person learns from other's mistakes, they say. Evidently, your spot as a Grey, along with your blatant disregard for the rules, proves that you have earned your spot here for your sheer stupidity." how could they know? Who told them? Who spied on them so shamelessly, like disgusting lechers? "Take her."

At once, the two henchwomen stomped by the bed and one slapped the ant's face so hard that she fell back on the bed, while the other one buried her meaty hand into the cascade of crimson hair, and with inhuman force, she dragged her off the bed. She wasn't allowed to get up and walked by herself properly - Instead, the first one grabbed her other arm and they roughly got her to the punishing room, where she was thrown to the hard ground. "Do we kill her, Miss Venable?" "Not yet." the woman tapped her cane next to the pitiful form of the woman shaking violently with fear, her face wet with tears rapidly falling down. "Did you think you were smart? Shamelessly seducing and opening your legs for the Cooperative man, thinking he would bring you to the Sanctuary? You are a disgrace for womankind." Katrina looked so tiny and insignificant, huddled into the wall, hoping to just disappear from the world. "Do you know who told us?" the girl shook her head. "You should." Venable smiled venomously. "Langdon." "He didn't." Katrina spat in a tone low and harsh. Venable laughed mockingly. "You shouldn't delude yourself so desperately, stupid girl. Accept reality. Your plan failed, and Langdon abandoned you. In fact, he is pushing for a death sentence, all things considered. Perhaps you hadn't performed to his satisfaction." the three other women laughed tauntingly. "Stop lying. I can sense your lies from a mile away. I know it wasn't him." were it not for her new-found ability, the frightened lamb would have never dared, speak back to a person of authority... But somehow, she had faith and certainty that Michael hadn't betrayed her. Last night was genuine - All of it. Every little thing they did, every declaration, every confession - They were all sincere. Were it not for Michael, she wouldn't have had courage. She wouldn't have seen any meaning in protesting or fighting back. Loneliness was dark and depressing, and solitude was her greatest pain for so long, something beyond her control, something that eats away at her very soul, little by little, eroding at her very core. Michael was different. Michael knew her. Michael was SEEING her. Michael loved her. "Delusional whore." Venable spat with anger. "Miss Mead." she called out her right hand's name. "The whip."

The burly woman smiled with sadistic glee as she took the black whip into her hand, and with extreme precision and accuracy, she cracked it against the expensive cashmere of Langdon's shirt hanging shapelessly from her body. Venable felt such perverse satisfaction, imagining the Cooperative wretch having flesh being torn from its bone from the repeated whipping, though the annoyingly pitched shriek from the sobbing ant was beginning to get on her nerves. "If you want this to stop, tell us what you know of Langdon." "Nothing! I know nothing! We j-just met! Wh-Why would h-he disclose c-clas-sified information t-to some G-Grey?!" the tortured soul stuttered in searing agony, but the torment went on, and on, and on, with more degrading comments and humiliation. "Stop! Please, stop! I can't take it anymore! It hurts! Please, I beg of you, stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!" but she was so lost in her own personal hell that she didn't hear the door opening, Venable and Mead leaving, letting the other two henchwomen finish the job. "STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!!!!!!!!" her broken shriek that rawed her throat so much that it bled. And then it all stopped.

Only her distressed, broken weeps were echoing through the small, blindingly white room - For how long, she was unaware - But she heard her name being called, by the velvety voice of her lover, who was standing in the door frame, eyes wide with shock at the carnage painting the room like a religious mural. "My love?" though she was unable to move or look at him, she felt comforted by his presence. "What did they do to you?!" Michael rushed to her side, angrily stomping on the discarded leg of one of the torturers, and he fell next to his beloved. He wanted to throw his arms around her, but seeing his shirt being torn to ribbons and shreds. Her flesh was painted red, slashed and abused by the leather rope of the whip. How dare they commit such an atrocity? Didn't they know such folly deserved eternal torment in the deepest pits of hell? Had Dante Alighieri written Inferno for no reason? "I-It hurts so much, Mickey, it hurts so much. I f-feel so weak, I... I feel like -- Like I'm dying." she finally dared twist her aching body to hide in his arms, her fingers holding onto and wrinkling his coat with decrepit strength. "My darling -- Look at me. Look at me." he placed his hands on her pale cheeks, looking at her exhausted, sweaty face, hair aimlessly sticking to her face. "Remember how you healed me, my love? You can do so for yourself. Let me help you." her breathing was ragged and hot, gritting her teeth in sheer agony as Langdom gingerly removed the scraps of black shirt from her body, leaving her bare and vulnerable before his devilish eyes. "Do you trust me?" his hands held hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze, his lips almost touching her own. His whispery voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Venable said you were the one who betrayed me." she replied, a pained vibrato in her voice. "She said you were using me for your own lecherous needs, and that you have abandoned me." "And do you believe her?" the man frowned, feeling wrath taking over his senses. "No." Kat smiles delicately. "I knew she was lying." she continued, taking a few deep breaths to keep herself awake. "It only reinforced my trust in you." the man captured her lips, tasting like salted caramel from all the tears, distracting her from the slight sting of guiding her hands over her body.

"Good." he muttered, his lips moving along her jaw, and to her neck, in trails of romantic kisses. "It was Andre." he admitted the truth, gazing lustfully through hooded lids at the lewd and salacious imagery before him, an angel covered in blood, smearing it all over her body, like a temptress succubus attempting to seduce him. "He was jealous on us." he continued, inhaling a sharp breath, arousal heightening his senses. "The other two were told on, by him also. Nearly died." with each trace of her wounds, they would heal rapidly, until no sign of whip, nor scar existed on her soft flesh. "Venable cooked and fed him his lover, who cheated on him. If he cannot have sexual gratification, no one is allowed to know bliss." "Fool." Kat moaned, feeling her strength returning, bit by bit. "Will you take him with us?" "Not even in his dreams." Michael scoffed, and once all of her injuries were healed, he brought her into an embrace, uncaring of the blood stains on his expensive, elegant clothes. "Nobody who hurts my sweet angel should hold any hope of living." he scoffed, taking off his coat and wrapping her in it, like a blanket. "Let us return to my room, sweetling." he picked her up in his arms with ease, only to realise his mistake, as he exposed her to the eviscerated bodies of the henchwomen, body parts splattered everywhere. "Wh-Who did this...?" the girl whimpered, bewildered and unable to comprehend what she was seeing. "You did." he smiled tenderly at her. "No, I -- I couldn't have! How could I?" she gasped, looking in disbelief. "There is a limit to the pains a delicate angel like yourself can endure. You must have been so desperate to make it all stop, that your innate powers acted up on their own to protect you." he explained, swiftly stepping out of the accursed chamber. "Will you ever have it in your heart to forgive me for not being there to protect you?" he placed her on the bed, his eyes desperate and sorrowful for his failure. "What is there to forgive, Mickey? You were not there - I know you would have intervened. I know you would have saved me." she smiled tenderly at him. "Would I be too daring, were I to ask to wear your shirt instead? I love the material of it." Michael chuckled, amused, as his nimble finger unbuttoned his shirt and helped her dress it. "May I... Also... Ask for one of your rings?" Michael looked down at his hands, and picked the smallest one he had, before gingerly slipping it on her thumb. "You used to wear jewellery every time we met. Rings and bracelets and necklaces..." his nostalgic smile seemed to afflict her also. "But my favourite accessory of yours have always been..." with a swish of his wrist, he created a flower crown made out of black roses, and placed it on top of her head. "Flowers." "I really love flowers." she smiled bashfully, looking down as her fingers delicately traced the ring on her thumb. "Thank you, Michael."

Doomsday was approaching at an unexpectedly fast pace, and the Halloween Masquerade that got everyone so excited was knocking at their door. Venable thought she was being smart, she thought the poisoned apple plan was her own witty idea. If she cannot be saved, no one else can. If only she knew she was the one being played, and the tale of Snow White was going to have a tragically fatalistic tale - For everyone but Snow White, that is. The ugly hag was going to get painfully dismembered by the Prince, and she will never get the chance to harm his beloved Snow White princess. The seven dumb dwarves can die, for all he cared - None meant anything to him. It was only her. Only his angel.

"Would you like me to tell you another one of the angel and demon's adventure, my sweet flower?" the man asked, getting in bed next to his beloved. "No." she turned to him, her palm placed on his bare chest. "I want you to tell me of our adventures, instead. No more metaphors or allegories. Just us. Kat and Mickey." Michael looked at her, and he offered a boyish grin, engulfing her in his arms. "I would be delighted to!" he felt so giddy, like a child being gifted a puppy. "It all happened so long ago, when we were young children, and you found me in the forest..."

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#ahs apocalypse #ahs apocalypse x reader #ahs apocalypse imagine #ahs apocalypse x oc #michael langdon #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader

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vixentheplanet · 1 year ago

Text

why did you fall in love?

“why did you fall in love? it's a hard fall from way up here."

shuri x black!reader | 18+

summary: You're one of the deadliest assassins in the world in a relationship with a superhero. [18+]

word count: 5.3k

themes: dark themes, assassin!reader, love-blind shuri (she is in love, leave her alone)

warnings: murder, manipulation, knife play, dom!reader (if you tilt your head, then left, and squint), oral sex, bondage, riding, fingering.

hi ✨ PSA this is a side blog to my main one so i can’t follow anyone as vixentheplanet

i’m okay!

i’m just re-uploading my deleted works for now and answering ask

i hope to write again but mentally not there rn

Every day, it is estimated that about 150,000 people die all across the world. Of those one hundred and fifty thousand people, one and seven hundred twenty-eight thousand of those people are homicide victims. When the night draws to a close, and Tuesday takes her daily victims, just one had the privilege of seeing your face last.

Many people make the mistake of believing that women are weak and harmless. These preconceptions force people to drop their guard and fail to see a threat right in front of them. Another widespread misunderstanding is that assassins are always male, grim, and gloomy figures dressed entirely in black. No one would ever suspect you of such atrocities, the girl in the velvet corset and gold metallic miniskirt. You were grinning devilishly to yourself as you walked the short distance from where the taxi had dropped you off to your apartment building.

In prison, you were recruited as an assassin by a criminal organization named Callio. Callio is short for blue coral snake (Calliophis bivirgata). The venom of the colorful snakes is so potent that it can cause all of the victim's nerves to fire at once, resulting in full-body spasms, paralysis, and sudden, terrible death—a fitting name for an organization housing some of the deadliest criminals. Your old identity perished the moment you became a member of the group. Callio aided you in escaping, fabricating your death, and establishing a new identity.

The organization was everywhere: police, MI5, and MI6 were covering things up so you wouldn't get in trouble. All potential evidence against you will be completely eradicated thanks to Callio's assistance. Your only task was to ensure that your target died. With each murder, you left a unique imprint without leaving a systematic trail. Your tasks took you all across the world. Except for Paris, you only stayed in one palace for a short time and did everything you could to blend in. If you wanted to have some fun, you could even go in disguise.

An 'expert' with a degree, desperate for labels, would brand you a psychopath who constantly disregards right and wrong and dismisses others' rights and feelings. It's a made-up phrase by individuals acting as society expects them to. They see the world in black and white, labeling things they don't comprehend because they've been taught to be afraid of the dark and unconventional ways of life.

It felt exhilarating to be able to live your life any way you wanted.

The night chill barely bothered your skin as epinephrine coursed through your bloodstream—the rush of adrenaline thrumming your body with pure excitement.

When your steps click against the pavement, sirens zoom past you, no doubt on their way to the location you were just leaving. Tonight is one of the few times in recent memory that you didn't have to go out of the city for business. The target was Angus Grant-Taylor, a Scottish businessman who planned to spend the weekend in Paris. Perfect for you. While you were in Tokyo two weeks ago, concluding an assignment on a fashion mongoose, you were given his file.

A key card that granted entrance to the penthouse suite was enclosed with the file. You slipped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 50th floor. The red light surrounding the button went out, and a bell sounded as the doors opened directly into the opulent living area.

The execution was quick. In a confused combination of French and English, you put on a heavy French accent and informed Grant-Taylor that you were a sex specialist sent by a friend to welcome him properly in the City of Love. He fell for it, a horny filthy man, without even verifying your claims. It was terrible how easily you could convince him to surrender over his belt with the threat of punishment. You were in his lap moments later, looping the belt around his neck and pushing till the leather bit into his wrinkled flesh. You pulled tighter and tighter, seeing the businessman's eyes widen in terror, clawing at his neck in an attempt to end the assault, violent breathy cries leaving his thin lips.

You smile as you watch the struggle leave his body. It will be over soon. “At least your wife doesn't know her husband was unfaithful, right?” You murmured this with mock pity, no longer maintaining the phony French accent. The authorities would declare it erotic asphyxiation for a half-naked man with a belt around his neck. As soon as his body became limp, you were off his lap and fled from the hotel room. You leave the space in the direction of the camera's blind spot.

Pathetic. You thought as you pushed through the revolving door into your residential building, keeping your head low as you made your way through the lobby and up to the elevators.

Inserting the key into the lock and hearing the click, you withdrew the key but hesitated momentarily before rotating the knob. There was a slight temperature drop, which you're sure was caused by a window opening and shutting. You feel an energetic shift as tension builds on your shoulders. There was a visitor inside. You instinctively reach for one of the solid-steel spikes hidden in your hair, preparing to strike. But, as you proceed further, a soothing fragrance meets your senses. Cherry almond bursts mingled with dense and warm woody ambery undertones.

Instead of continuing with your original plan, you smirk. Exiting the foyer, turn left into the kitchen, grab a glass from the sink, and twist the cap off the whiskey. "You know, I think you have a death wish sometimes," you say into the night, pouring yourself a celebratory shot. Had you not picked up on the scent, you would have attacked. The sofa creeks and footsteps approach from the sitting room while the brown liquid stings your throat.

The footsteps stop, and the light switches on, illuminating the room. Soft eyes land on you. “How did you know it was me and not some creep?”

You turn to face the voice, welcomed by the woman whose attention you’ve managed to maintain for over a year. A beautiful woman who honestly had no business being involved with you, but staying away from each other proved to be a difficult task. “I could smell your cologne,” A robust and potent scent. Some days, it would bring comfort, cocooning you in a loving warmth you could temporarily allow yourself to get lost in. Other days, when you felt exceptionally vulnerable, it suffocated you with the feelings you left unnamed.

"Imagine if it had been some creep," you add. A giggle escapes as you bite your lip and catalog how to torture the intruder. If someone made the wrong decision to break into your apartment, you would have considered it a gift from the devil. They must have some pretty fucked up karma.

Shuri's face changes as her expression hardens. She scolds you, "Stop doing that," fully aware of how unsettling your thoughts are.

You scowl at her reprimanding tone.

"Where are you coming from?" Shuri was interrogating you about what you had done tonight, and you pondered telling her the truth for a split second. For the typical person, it was a simple question. For you, it was difficult to answer. You could have been down the street, or you could have been at the scene of a homicide. It was unnecessary to keep your occupation a secret. Shuri was fully aware of the life you led, but your contradictory morality didn't detract from the feelings she'd developed for you.

Her justification? Shuri was an avenger; she wasn't concerned with the petty crimes of human existence. It wasn't her responsibility if it didn't pose a threat to her people or the universe. The truth? Love. Loving someone makes you unable to see their faults.

Shuri had been through so much grief and pain that she was at her lowest by the time you arrived. You were an enigma she was trying to solve at first, having met at a gala while you were on assignment. Shuri couldn't stay away once the mystery was uncovered and she discovered the nature of your life. Letting a literal superhero into your world, Shuri falling for an assassin, the relationship was risky for both of you. Secretly, you believe Shuri was drawn to you because of your darker tendencies, recognizing characteristics she fought to keep at bay in you.

“If you don’t want to hear about what I’d do hypothetically, you definitely don’t want to know where I came from.” There’s a playful glint in your brown eyes as you smirked, bending down to remove your heels. Shuri releases a long sigh that causes you to snap your head at her. “What? Does the mighty Black Panther have something to tell me?” You challenged, throwing your coat into the empty chair.

The two of you stood on two different sides on the scale of humanity. Things are rarely just black or white, good or bad; instead, they exist on a spectrum of gray hues. The world is filled with nuances, complexities, and shades of gray that require more in-depth examination and comprehension. Killing is a primordial act. Humans have three basic instincts: survival, predator, and prey. Humans would live like savages if not restrained by the rule of law, morals, and ethics. It's what nature intended. It was a waste of time to try to be decent when you could just be good at what you do best, murder.

Shuri saved lives as the Black Panther while you ended them. Shuri had difficulty grasping the fact that you enjoyed what you did. The gruesome sight of the victim’s body makes the detectives feel sick to their stomachs as they come up with little to no evidence. Thrilling.

Some may consider it selfish for a 'hero' to turn a blind eye to the assassin creating chaos in the world, but in reality, no one can always be entirely selfless. So Shuri gives herself the freedom to have this, to have you. As a result, you allow yourself to feel for the first time in a long time. Yet you never let the romance take you away from who you were. Make you abandon your criminal behavior in favor of a comfortable lifestyle with Shuri.

After sensing your anger, Shuri moves from the opposite side of the kitchen to be closer to you.

“I understand the nature of your profession,” Shuri hesitates in her following words, recognizing you’re prone to shutting down whenever the conversation becomes confrontational. "I must know you're safe."

Her sentiments amuse you. "You worry about me, sweetheart,"

"Y/N, I am being serious. Every time you leave on a mission, you run the chance of never returning."

"I suppose I could say the same thing about you." You fired back fast. With so many unknowns, the Avengers could not adequately prepare for every potential threat. You were at least provided with a file including all the required information and resources. On most occasions, you could be perfectly prepared for what you were about to walk into.

The situation was risky, but what's the fun of being cautious? You have a tendency to be impulsive and easily bored. “It hasn’t killed me yet.” You were well aware that you weren't invincible or superhuman. You are just too efficient at your work. But even if protected, you weren’t clumsy; every movement was careful and calculated.

"Would you like me to wait till it does?"

A droplet slides down your cheek as your eyes water, “Are you going to save me?" You ask, brows furrowed as you look at Shuri with pleading eyes. " Save me, so I no longer have to kill. Please, please save me," you sniffled, reaching out to wipe away the tears that had gathered on cue.

Perhaps the hero knew too much about you. Shuri sighs at your shenanigans, her face heated at your ridicule of her sincerity. "Stop," she mutters.

In the stillness, a manic burst of laughter rings forth. "Wasn't that what you wanted me to do?" You argue back, and the depleted sigh that Shuri lets out has you rolling your eyes. "You're taking away my post-kill buzz." You have a grimace on your face as you turn away slightly. You weren’t in the mood for this emotional connectivity, no longer interested in hearing how much the other woman cares for you.

Nevertheless, Shuri is right there, caging you against the marble countertop and unwilling to let you detach from her. Shuri's affection for you can be overwhelming. Initially, your emotional detachment was a struggle for the other, who wanted to be let in. She was gentle, always clutching at your rough edges with the hope of smoothing them out, and her understanding and tolerance occasionally roused in you a wish to be more patient with her.

"Don't shut me out," Shuri urges, brushing her gentle lips against your brow. It took significant effort to overcome the impulse to shut down when experiencing emotional distress. "What's on your mind?" she questioned softly.

Her focus is intense. It always fascinated you how much power she could wield over you with a look that demanded your attention. The gaze you give back is enough to convey what's going on in your unsteady thoughts. With Shuri so close, you didn't want to continue your conversation. You wanted her lips on yours so badly after being separated for a while. "Begins with the letter K, followed by the letter I. Finally, it has two of the same letters." You wait for her to figure out the puzzle.

Shuri leans forward, leaving you barely a few inches apart, your back pressed against the cold marble of the island. “Kiss or kill?” She inquires, her lips brushing across yours, close but not touching.

A smirk etches on your features. “Don’t tempt me.”

“The temptress doesn’t like being tempted?” Fucking tease.

"Playing with me may be disastrous, darling. But I’ll spare you. I think you deserve a kiss." Shuri doesn't waste any time pouring herself into you; your mouths move feverishly, embracing the severity of your hunger.

Gradually, the kiss is no longer enough to satisfy the craving. Hands tighten around your waist, pushing you effortlessly into the cool surface, the stone on your thighs sending shivers up your spine. Still yearning for the sensation of Shuri's lips, you bend your head lower. Her hands tremble as she removes the button on your skirt, the discarded garment on the tile. Shuri's movements stutter as you bite onto her earlobe, your teeth clamping down on her jewelry. "You're so sensitive," you joke.

Regaining her composure, the woman slips her hand under the lace of your panties and effortlessly finds her way to your opening. Gentle fingers move inward, gathering some of the liquid that has pooled there. As the pads of her middle finger massage your clit with the accumulated moisture, you draw away from her mouth and let out a blissful moan.

The rhythm on your clit was subtle at first, with just enough pressure to get your breath catching. Shuri’s other hand tugs your corset down to thumb over your nipple before rubbing it between her index finger and thumb. You were both panting heavily in the intensity of the moment. Your nails pinch into Shuri's skin as you press your lips together and hold her sharp jawline. "Go down on your knees."

As the Wakandan falls to her knees, lustful eyes follow her every move. You clutch the counter's edge while your legs lay on Shuri's shoulders. Your stomach muscles clench in anticipation as you feel her warm breath on your core. Your pussy throbbed incessantly, and you're certain Shuri's hesitancy came from her fascination with how your juices flowed.

You have no idea when she will give you what you want. She then went in. Shuri used her tongue to separate your folds, causing you to gasp quietly, then spread you open with a long lick, ending with her mouth on your clit. Savoring the taste.

"Mon amour," you purr, resting your palm over Shuri's curls. As you move your hips slowly, your mouth falls slack. Once the pleasure becomes too overwhelming, you fully relax, laying back on the surface. Head dangling over the edge, a dizzying wave settles in. The rush is intoxicating.

She keeps sucking and devouring. Another glide, a deeper lick, and she comes up for air, only a few seconds missing the taste of you on her tongue before diving back in. When she brushed across the inside of your slit, her touch on your core made you whimper helplessly. You extended your legs wider and pushed your hips up for more, grinding on her face impulsively. Your body understood what it desired.

Shuri did as well. As Shuri grasped your ass with both hands and forced you onto her face, you uttered an involuntary gasp of surprise. "Oh, fuck," you exclaim. She was fully immersed in her task. Nothing mattered but you. Your lustful cries redirected Shuri's attention to your clit, which she licked rhythmically. The actions cause your stomach to spasm and deliver euphoric vibrations throughout your body. You're delirious and feeling so fucking amazing. Shuri has you in such immense ecstasy that you can hardly think about anything else. Shuri sank her face as far as she could, causing your spine to arch and legs to tremble —right there.

Your eyelids slid back as your orgasm rushed over you from head to toe. Everything raced as you felt your release land fast and heavy on Shuri's tongue. You cry out her name, and every drop of air in your lungs escapes, leaving you gasping.

As Shuri gets up, you lift your legs off her shoulders, and firm hands pull you upright. Between the orgasm and the disorientation, you're dazed, but your half-lidded eyes make out her form, and your hands go for Shuri's shirt, bringing her in for a fierce kiss. "You always make me feel so good," you praise, admiring the lovely face paint your cum applied to her.

"I fear I'm addicted to hearing you yell my name." As a result of her exertions, Shuri's voice is low and slightly harsh.

You smile as you attempt to regain your composure. "You're in luck. I plan on screaming it a lot more tonight.” Shuri unleashes an insanity-inducing growl in response to your words, which she only makes when she loses control.

"I have a surprise for you," You speak to her in a hushed tone as though it was a secret. Your expression becomes increasingly sinister. Something unexpectedly made Shuri ache.

With your legs on either of her, you sat slightly on Shuri's chest to avoid disturbing the strap waiting for you to climb. In your palm is a dagger you brought from Thailand. The gold handle is detailed and encrusted with amethyst teardrop crystals, while the silver blade gleams in the Parisian night.

"Beautiful, huh?" you say, admiring the handcrafted artistry.

Shuri’s brows raise, eyes trained on the object you held. "It's lovely, but I thought I warned you against weaponry in bed, my dear?"

You tilted your head, "When I warned you not to tell me what to do,” you counter-responded. “Anyway, that's not a surprise." Shuri opened her mouth to argue, but you signaled her to keep silent with a finger; she obeyed. You put the dagger between your lips and reach for a bundle of scarlet hemp rope.

You don't ask. Just hold it up with a pleading expression. Shuri gives you a thoughtful look before finally giving in, her gaze flitting between the rope and the dagger. She couldn't deny it, but you knew she was always eager to try new things in the bedroom.

"Fine" was the only confirmation you required, thrilled. "Raise your arms and lock your wrists together," you command, and Shuri obediently complies. The synthetic material is woven into a handcuff knot. Imagining a future in which Shuri would allow you to tie elaborate knots in the rope that encircled her body evoked a primal sense of authority.

Shuri's breath catches when the rope is secured, and she experiences faint, painful sensations that heighten her awareness. Upon noticing that her eyes are closed, you smirk. You ask, "How does it feel?" to determine if she is at ease.

"It's good," she affirms, eyes fluttering open. You admire the vivid crimson thread that binds Shuri's wrist since it stands out against her complexion.

Tightly bound and 'helpless,' you and Shuri both know she has the ability to break free if she so desires. For the fun of it, you place the blade against her neck. "Are you afraid?"

Shuri swallows with her Adam's apple bobbing as her throat comes closer to the dagger. The woman beneath you remains silent for a few moments before shaking her head. "I'm not," she says clearly. "You wouldn't do anything to hurt me, and I know that."

It dawns on you how much faith Shuri has in you. You're a deadly assassin who kills others out of joy, with no remorse or conscience. Any rational person would have been terrified. It doesn't matter how brave they act around you; a knife to the throat will make all pretense of courage vanish in an instant. Yet Shuri's gaze is fixed on you, and she isn't reacting to the dagger you're holding.

Instead of being content with her response, you take things a step further, bringing your arm back and raising the blade above Shuri's head, but she remains unaffected by your actions, continuing to gaze with you. She doesn't even blink when you bring your arm down quickly, stabbing the pillow beside her head. Yet, with your chest pressed together, you can hear her heart pulse against yours.

You bend down and kiss her on the mouth. The kiss is anything but delicate, full of fire and desperation due to the limited time around each other. Despite being restrained, Shuri mirrors your enthusiasm, her lips moving in sync with her intent. A moan escapes your lips as you pull back and lick a long stripe across Shuri's tattooed neck.

The blade is withdrawn from the pillow when you pull the handle. "This," you declare, waving the weapon in front of Shuri. "It's only a precaution. I'd like you to keep it for me, darling." You request, putting the sharp blade between the lips of the other woman.

You lean in close to her ear. "I'm going to ride the fuck out of you," you confidently vow, and Shuri whines. Her wrist flexed in the precise knot. “Ah, ah- no touching.” You reprimand, grabbing for the lubricant container, squeezing some into your palm, and coating the strap.

You gasp as you lift up and sink down into the shaft. In this posture, you had perfect control over the intensity and motion. "You look so gorgeous," you say, appreciating how she's pliant beneath you, waiting to be used.

When you direct the shaft to your entrance, you inhale sharply, feeling your walls flex to accommodate the length. You balance yourself by resting your hands on Shuri's shoulders and dragging your hips upwards, setting the rhythm. Every time you come back down, your gaze is fixed on Shuri, and a tiny gasp escapes your lips.

Shuri's admiration as she watches you indulge in your own pleasure turns you on even more—symbolic submission, yielding to you and your dark desires. "Do you enjoy watching me use you?" you ask, and Shuri nods, unable to react vocally with the razor blade between her lips. "I'm sure you do. Strong for the rest of the world, yet weak for me." Perhaps it was your possessive attitude, but it was pretty erotic when Shuri handed over complete control; her fingertips flexed, anxious to make contact. If she had her way, you'd be beneath her as she drove into you at incredible speed. The thought got you on even more, and you didn't stop thrusting down on her.

You're chasing your climax with a ruthless drive, your moans rising in octaves at the intense feeling. You let go of Shuri's shoulder, your fingers sliding into your scalp and yanking your hair till it hurts, the stinging exquisite. "Shuri," you scream, your voice never wavering. You keep repeating her name, louder each time, keeping your promise. As a reminder to her, even when she wasn't performing the job, she was always the source of your ecstasy. Shuri looks on as you unravel, sinking deeper into pleasure as the tip touches that delicious soft area. The rush is so intense that you pause, tightening around the shaft. "I'm so close, baby," you assure her. “I’m going to cum for you.” Her pupils are blown as she watches you, hips shifting slightly. You know she longs to be free. Soon. The classic sensation of your muscles tightening emerges deep within your core; you move at a careless but steady pace, chasing to release the tension.

Your vision blacks out, and it’s almost psychedelic as a millisecond of tranquil, chemically-induced euphoria shoots up from the center of your body. It flows around in pulses so intense that they curl your toes. The tingling sensation coursing through your veins made you shake, and violent cries fell from your lips. Your body bucked reflexively once, twice, and the third time became a shuddering full-body spasm as you drew out the high.

You hardly had time to come down before lifting off the strap, unsteady fingers working on loosening the harness so you could put your fingers into Shuri's warmth. After watching you ride her, she's glistening with arousal. Her response to you is almost immediate, arching into your touch while you curl your fingers, stroking a rough spot that will have her coming soon.

"When you come for me, I'll cut you out," you breathe, stroking your fingers in Shuri and pressing your palm against her clit. "Would you be able to do it for me, baby?" She nods once before throwing her head back against the bed. Shuri's walls constrict around your fingers as you remove the weapon, forcing her to remain silent, and she moans so loudly that the walls tremble.

"I missed your pretty voice," you say, quickening your pace, eager to hear more of the sweet melody. "Fuck baby, Y/N," she gasps, body trembling. Seeing you are wrecking her brilliant mind, purging her of anything that isn't you, is an electrifying thought.

When you realized that Shuri was about to break, you slid the blade beneath the red hemp rope, preparing to sever the material. Shuri extends her legs farther, enabling you to press in harder, losing yourself in her and caring for her. "That's it, darling, let go," you urge, knowing she's getting near.

You slide the dagger through the rope when you feel the first wave of wetness. Shuri's walls are squeezing around your fingers as she cums, shouting out your name loud and long with a mix of obscenities. Making it clear to everyone around you who was making her feel this good.

Sweaty foreheads pressed together as you breathe into each other coming down from your high. Shuri grins as she scoops you up in her arms and swiftly reverses your position, hovering over you. "You know you're wild," she chuckles, bending her elbows to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, missing her sweetness. “Thank you for humoring me,” you tell her between your soft kisses. "I'm sure you could have gotten out of that."

“I’d do anything for you,” and you recognize it’s not just pillow talk.

"Would you like to take a bath with me?" you ask, your eyes heavy from the sedation of your climax. Of course, Shuri agrees, and you get up as soon as possible. You are running warm water and adding a few extra things: Epsom salt, honey, and lavender oil.

You're seated comfortably between Shuri's legs, her mouth pressing little nibbles into your neck. Your manicured nail traces over the ink that has become firmly embedded in the skin of your beloved. These were the times when you could let your mind relax. You could get caught up in the moment and believe life was that simple. Except—

Your voice cuts through the silence. “What is it?” Shuri hums. “What are you thinking about?”

“I don’t want to scare you,” Shuri says, deflecting from the question.

You stop, pausing your tracing. “Tell me,” you demand.

She sighs deeply, the heat raising the hairs on the back of your neck. "I was simply imagining what it would be like if we were always this way." Shuri quickly adds context to her revelation. "I have no interest in domestic life. I don’t think either of us is suited for that. I only want you."

Shuri is waiting for you to answer in the quiet. You make every effort to comprehend her emotions. Love is a feeling that makes people happy, and happiness is the spark that draws people to love, and the emotion can take the form of people at times. Shuri wishes to be with you at all times. She wants to be happy with you. "One day, you'll consume me. You’ll be all I need, and then I'll want nothing else. And on that day, I'll say yes."

You turn, spilling the water about as you proceed to sit in Shuri's lap. Her hands naturally gravitate to your waist. "Say it," you beg, and she knows exactly what you mean.

"I love you," the declaration always makes your heart skip a beat, even if you have yet to reciprocate. You bend your neck and pull Shuri down, kissing her until both of you are out of breath.

You let Shuri hold you throughout the night, and when she slips away, believing you're sleeping, she kisses your hair and mumbles, "I love you."

The rising light gave the morning sky a pink hue. Given your circumstances, whether it was hours, days, or weeks, you and Shuri did everything you could. Even if you awoke alone, the cut crimson rope and thoughts of the previous night are enough to lift your spirits. You grab your silk robe, tie it snugly around your waist, and head for the kitchen.

The envelope containing your next assignment was on the coffee table, where you had left it before heading for the penthouse last night. You take it as you walk into the, your energy spent from the night before, and you need to eat.

You select a croissant, set it on a baking sheet, then place it in the oven to brown. In the fridge, you take out the orange juice and the strawberry jam, leaving them on the counter as you retrieve a glass for the liquid. You take a crystal glass from the cabinet and pour the orange juice into it, and your gaze is drawn to the diamond pattern. That's how the day begins, basking in Shuri's afterglow, the delicate aroma of the croissant filling the air. This file is thicker than the ones you're used to. Callio has been tracing this person for a time now. Uncomfort sinks into your gut as you hold the envelope. You're noticing details you didn't previously. It's not anxiety; it's a nagging warning brought on by intuition.

"Get a hold of yourself," you whispered to yourself. You make a clean cut across the seam using one of the spikes on your hairpin. You hold the glass again, ready to take a sip, as the contents pour out of the clean incision you made across the top, but as you read the name scrawled in red pen, your grip becomes unsteady, sending the glassware plummeting. It shatters instantaneously, the liquid spilling down your feet, but you barely react as your eyes scan the name once, twice, three times, hoping for a change; for the letters to suddenly rearrange into something else. Yet it doesn't, and the more you read, the faster your pulse becomes as discomfort takes over your body.

Shuri Udaku

#cai fics #re upload #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri fanfiction #mcu shuri #black panther shuri #queen shuri #princess shuri #shuri black panther #shuri udaku #shuri x you #shuri fic #shuri smut #letitia wright shuri #shuri imagine #idk what else to put here #Spotify

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katyspersonal · 4 months ago

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I played more SOTE today!! I have mixed feelings because today just happened to be pure RAGE because of my awful skill issue.. but at the same time I feel so ALIVE xD (two parter)

1) So first of all, I got back to Specimen Storehouse to finish whatever was that business with Ansbach and Freyja! She gave an interesting dialogue about how yeah honor and shit but what Radahn would actually like is to live so he could wage war forever 💀 Definitely the character of all time gghguj

2) So I decided to explore a little more of that Church District below before I continue to seek my way to upper area! Turned out that Tree Spirit did NOT die due to a bug..... but it did now. XD

And dropped edgy (literally) sorcery lol

3) NEW NAMED CHARACTER!!!!!!!

Yeah, I've been noticing that this area has Fire Knights with another variant of the head piece! I even had an idea to grind these guys for it, but I just felt as thought it'd be pointless. And I was right! This mask dropped from non-respawning enemy! So yeah, the fire zombies raising in this area were given lore, I was pleased by such amount to detail yet again 🤔

4) So I kept looking for the way back in the Storehouse, but took the turn I did NOT try to take, and ended up in that weird golden-black area on the map that has been making me curious for a while!

5) ....ъ_ъ So, I was running around, surprised by how empty it was, and even questioned whether it was pointless sort of? So I decided to just check the giant flower and.. ..... oh my fuuUCKING God.

6) So it was another time where I kept howling about how awful/unfair/hard/etc this battle was and wanted to quit except I didn't! You see, at first I was playing as usual, and the stage 2 was a surprise. But the LEVEL of my skill issue started to show up at its finest here, because I absolutely could not dodge its briars attacks and I barely managed to heal in time!

I had to die MANY times, learning from my mistakes and just trials what to do and slowly adapting.. You see, it SHOULD have been obvious that hitting the "face" was the most effective, but nope! I only figured many attempts later! Just as how """pointless""" critical hit before phase transition was not pointless at all! At least I learned to 1) block strike attack and roll magic attack 2) that I can't use magic so it'd be better to place all 14 flasks at Crimson 3) figured to summon mimic in a creative way; since it gets summoned in the equipment I had at THE moment of summon but AI can't be trusted with blocking normally, I summoned it while two-handing the weapon so it hits stronger and then got my shield back XD

7) .........

I swear, sometimes I regret not being able to stream, because y'all should have seen my reaction when it turned out that this enemy had THREE stages, not two...... :')

8) I actually died just just JUST the very last moment ;-; I screenshotted it, it is on PS for now, it was SOOO infuriating. I can't even explain how I resisted the urge to scream and throw my controller because that required inhumane willpower. But hell if I didn't feel ALIVE at that moment xD

9) AND I KILLED IT EVENTUALLY FGFGCGGB

^ Got genuinely surprised by this drop!

10) I came back at Storehouse, FINALLY, and THIS TRAITOR @val-of-the-north IS NO LONGER MY FRIEND!!!!1

I asked him about this symbol being here since as I said earlier, I assumed that the reoccurring symbol with a fire and a circle on flags and such found here and there represented Messmer and Rellana; an impression I've got because I first saw it in her castle!

....but then Val, this RAT, casually said that it is actually likely another symbol of Messmer: snakes rather than fire. And of course. God of course it makes much more sense. It is all over this Storehouse. Yes we found a shield Rellana used for the ritual to prove loyalty to the Erdtree once here, but the overlapping circles straight up coil like snakes. And yet you TRAITOR never corrected me when I wrongly assumed that the symbol of fire + two circles overlapping meant Messmer and Rellana being allies. Goddamit STOP LETTING ME LOOK STUPID ON PUBLIC *bonks you with the newspaper*

11) So after some running and collecting (got a golden spell that some Fire Knights use), I've found my way out and first ran into some really strong knight that used GRAVITY MAGIC! I attempted to fight him but like, no. Nope. So I left him for later, and Val recommended me to use 'O, Mother' gesture to finally open the secret passage to where I was actually looking.

12) And hoooo boy... I already suspected where this was going because even on the map there were depictions of Golden leaves (on the Finger Ruins) part.

It was THE spoilered area itself!

13) What instantly struck me was that I could SWEAR it had to be the exact same flowers as on the painting of 'healthy' Midra Manse. I did not have a good image as I hit it early by a mistake, so I asked Val to fetch me the image, annnnd....

Look, sure, it could simply be blue curtains and obviously just a 'normal' flora of this realm, so of course it still exists in THE one place Messmer didn't burn, but dead everywhere else. (Here because of Frenzy + no sunlight). But also Hornsent Inquisitors did bully Midra and his followers (which did lead to Frenzied Flame business), and Ymir mentioned something about Marika's roots being placed in madness? Who the hell knows anymore...

14) NOOOOO WAY, WHEN YOU GET TO THIS POINT, A FRAGMENT OF THEME OF MARIKA/RADAGON STARTS PLAYING ;-;

THE IMPACT

15) Definitely visiting this place by myself felt more impactful than simply reading/watching this part of the lore..

16) I got SO angry at the Tree Sentinel though that for the first time EVER I decided to try and fight while on Torrent! And it was so effective that it gave me an idea to not follow further today but go and get that boss' ass from earlier like this! Which was the start of a big waste of time, but perhaps I am getting ahead of myself.. -_-

(Will share in the next post because Tumblr doesn't respect the way I choose to share screenshots for the girls ( @heraldofcrow ))

#elden ring #elden ring dlc #sote spoilers #screenshots #gameplay log #sorry I am not very delighted with the idea to have my ass kicked by messmer yet #exploring optional bosses and side quests a bit for now #soon tho......

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cactusringed · 7 months ago

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Etho and Bdubs' meeting | Political Intrigue AU

Putting it in a tumblr post because idk if I can commit to a full fic that'll be posted on ao3 yet so I'll share this way

Word Count: 3,715

Content Warnings: Depictions of a staged suicide

The blood moon illuminates the night sky, painting the surrounding clouds crimson. Looking up through the glass roof of the observatory tower, Bdubs knows that today is to be the day he dies.

Even before his vision, he’d known, somehow, that the blood moon would signify his end. He was always attracted to it like a moth to a flame. Except moths aren’t aware — Bdubs doesn’t think — of the fate awaiting them once their delicate wings brush against the harbinger destined to extinguish their life. Bdubs is. He is, he believes, the most painfully aware one could be about their demise. The blood moon calls to him the way a jailer would a prisoner on death row, marching him through that last corridor towards his end.

“No, wait, I think a siren would be a more accurate metaphor,” Bdubs muses out loud, rubbing at his scruffy stubble. He should’ve shaved. Perhaps he still can. No. He’s meant to look this way, he knows. Images of his destiny flash in his mind and Bdubs screws his eyes shut in hopes to chase them away.

It doesn’t work. He takes one shaky breath, then another. His lungs ache. When he opens his eyes again, his vision blurs with tears that he quickly blinks away.

After spending over a year aware of the grisly details of his own death, one would expect Bdubs to have come to peace with it. He certainly thought he did. Yet here he is, staring up at the moonlit sky for what he knows is the very last time. Fighting back not only tears but primal fear that screams at him to rattle the bars of the cage fate has sealed him in. His heart gallops in his chest with such force he swears he feels its echoes against his ribcage, all the way up to his throat. His Adam's apple bobs as he forces his gaze downwards, to the workshop he’s built in the main observatory room. To his very last painting:

A landscape - that of the country of Oblivion. He’d hoped to finish it before his death, but he supposes the least he can do is bring it to an acceptable state. He wonders how much his work will sell for. He wonders if he can ask his murderer to burn it all before they leave.

Bdubs picks up his brushes and palette, the oil paints still wet from his last session, and works at the landscape. He paints a tree — thin, spindly, and grey — only to cover it almost immediately. He refines the cliff-face, as he’s done dozens of times, overworking the surface into a mush of dull colors and clashing textures before he throws his equipment to the ground in frustration.

His mind’s eye always had trouble focusing on the picture he wanted to bring to life, the shapes blurring together even after spending hours studying references of Obliviate scenery — but now, with the promise of death hanging over his head, he finds it downright impossible to not only focus but also keep his every muscle from shaking. Come on, he wants to tell himself, it’s not like you’re going up on stage to give a speech. It’s just the day of your own murder. Relax.

Bdubs worries he might puke. Or cry. That would be worse.

Another couple of breaths in and out. Shakier than before. He’s restless, to the point he knows he won’t be able to sleep no matter how late it gets, but also won’t be able to get anything useful done. What is there to do that would be useful mere hours, or potentially minutes, before his death? He could draft a will. He doesn’t know how to write one. Maybe he should’ve learned before he had to go and die, but to be entirely fair to him… no, he did know it was going to happen tonight for some time now. Ever since he knew of the blood moon. It just didn’t feel real enough to warrant any preparation, somehow.

Bdubs looks at the unfinished landscape. The sculk that snakes through every crack of the cliff-face. It’s too flat, despite how hard he’s worked at it. It resembles the sketches and croquis he’s studied in tomes, but not the feeling they elicit in him. That infinite darkness that threatens to suck him in. He reaches for his paints, but pauses. Gazes up, instead. Up and around himself, searching for that blackness, for that feeling.

It must be here. They must be here. Whoever Oblivion sent to end him. Bdubs isn’t stupid — he knows they’ve been following him for a while. Studying his every move, habits, his entourage. Yet he’s never been able to feel the weight of their presence. Not a shadow has ever been out of place. No matter how hard Bdubs has looked, how much he tossed his room upside down. How much he’s raised his voice.

But he’s got to keep trying.

“Assassin,” Bdubs speaks in the Obliviate tongue, struggling with the soft and flat tones it forces upon him. “Show yourself. I know you’re here. You have to be. You’re here to kill me, are you not? So, show yourself. Let me see my own murderer before I die.”

Bdubs waits. He waits for what feels like a full minute, only to be met with complete, suffocating silence. His lip twitches downwards, but he keeps his chin high, and continues to speak in a register he knows to be far more proper than he prefers to speak in his native Celesti tongue. He should’ve worked harder on his lessons.

“I’m unarmed. I don’t deal in violence. I just… wish to see your face. Then you can kill me,” Bdubs walks slowly, carefully, to the oak desk covered in loose paper and canvas pressed against one of the walls. His fingers trace over his sketchbook. He lets out a soft laugh, peering back up at the ceiling, looking out for any movement overhead. “I bet it’s not often you get to speak with your victim. I can offer you some critique. Because I have to say, the method you have planned for me… Well, it’s a bit too quiet. It’s like….” he frowns, unable to think of the right Obliviate word. “It’s boring,” he settles on the Celesti equivalent, before he switches back to the assassin’s tongue. “It will make my retainers suspect foul.”

Still nothing but silence, no matter how long Bdubs waits. A long sigh, as he lets go of held breath. He takes his sketchbook, worn at the spine, and holds it to his chest. He turns, raises a foot, intends to take a step — only to let out a roar of terror as he’s suddenly faced with a tall figure come out of nowhere.

Bdubs stumbles back, and as quickly as he began screaming he slaps both hands over his mouth to silence himself, letting the sketchbook fall open by his feet. His back hits the edge of his desk, and he waits as the figure stands still as a statue. One, two — his eyes dart to the door, listening for guards, servants, anyone who might have heard the commotion. Only when he’s certain no one intends to ruin his moment does he drop his hands down, letting out a high pitched giggle.

“You scared the life outta me!” he exclaims in Celesti. “I mean,” he corrects himself in quiet Obliviate: “You sca—”

The figure holds up a hand, and Bdubs stills, before letting out another, softer chuckle.

“Right. You understand Celesti. There’s no need to translate,” He insists on continuing in Obliviate, but it does save him some time.

Another stretch of silence. The figure lets their hand drop. They remain still, and though it fills the air with an awkwardness that would normally make Bdubs want to keep yapping — he instead finds himself transfixed by their presence.

Slowly, as to ensure they don’t take it as an offensive move, Bdubs leans down to pick up his sketchbook. He opens it towards the end, and meets with a sketch of himself laid in bed, arms stretched out at his sides, small rivulets of blood dripping down. The blood moon shining in the window. He’s transfixed by it for just a moment, his throat closing up.

He flips the page. More angles of his dead body. A few sketches of gloved hands taking hold of his wrist. The fingers are slender, long — one might call them delicate, even as they hold a blade to Bdubs’ wrist.

A study of how the blood flows. It pearls at the edge of the cut at first. There’s a few attempts at getting it quite right. The amount of blood that begins to trickle, then pour out. The way it soaks Bdubs’ sheets.

Then, finally, the main object of interest: The assassin. His sketches become more abundant, but less clear, as he focuses on them. Looking up at the figure standing in front of him, then down at his sketches, he’s happy to note he got their build right: Tall, slender, but not too much. Loose clothes that likely hide solid muscles. That’s another thing he realises he portrayed perfectly: Their outfit. The long, dark cloak hiding the near entirety of their figure. The large hood obscuring their head alongside a scarf wrapped around the bottom half of their face. The only part that remains uncovered is their eyes and a few strands of silver hair — easy enough to remember and portray, one would think. Yet it always remained blank both in Bdubs’ memory and sketches.

The surface of some of the pages have been rubbed raw from his eraser. Some have frustrated scribbles all over the assassin’s face. Others have just been left blank. It’s endlessly frustrating, and if he doesn’t get to do anything else before he dies, he hopes to at least fix this.

“Can I…?” Bdubs reaches for the assassin’s scarf — only for them to suddenly jerk back before his fingers can even brush against the fabric.

It’s the first movement he’s seen from them, a proof they’re not just a hallucination. It makes him jump, and he tenses in expectation of a blow that never comes. The assassin just adjusts their scarf securely on their face before peering down at Bdubs’ sketchbook. They point. A silent question hangs in the air.

Bdubs frowns. “Can you use your words?”

“No.”

Their voice is deep, surprisingly so. It’s also rough around the edges — the way one’s voice sounds after waking up in the morning. And a bit muffled by the scarf.

“Very clever,” Bdubs grins, reaching to shove playfully at the assassin. They move away. “It does mean you can speak though, so— Oh, how do you say in Obliviate… you know, like… gotcha? Do you guys have a word for gotcha?”

Bdubs swears he hears a quiet, near inaudible snicker from the other.

“You can switch to Celesti. I’d rather you did, actually,” they say in perfect Celesti. Not a trace of an accent. Not even an intonation amiss, despite how much more melodic Celesti is compared to the flatness of Obliviate. Bdubs could mistake him for a native if he didn’t know better, and if it wasn’t for the paleness of his face.

“Right, yeah, I was tryna impress you, but turns out I’m real rusty. But hey, I was doing well enough, yeah? Since you came down from your little hidey hole?”

Silence. They’re still pointing.

“...So, uh, what’d you want my sketchbook for?”

The silence stretches, until the assassin seemingly remembers it’s their turn to speak. “I want to see.”

Bdubs raises a brow. “Not the most eloquent sort, are ya?”

They blink.

“Just gimme a second, okay?”

Bdubs reaches for one of his charcoal pencils, and holds the book open against his chest. He peeks up at the assassin, then down at the page, lightly finishing up one of his attempts at a portrait. He sticks out his tongue as he adds the outline of lips he can barely see through the scarf, refines the shape of their face, and draws the long, white eyelashes caressing scarred skin. The hint of sculk Bdubs can barely see, pulsing like veins burrowing deep within the assassin’s skin. He goes at it for a moment, before he finally gives up with a dissatisfied huff.

“It’s not as pretty as you are in real life,” he holds the sketchbook out to the assassin. “But have a looksie, if you want. It’s kind of… Ah, well, you can keep it as a souvenir after you’ve killed me! I’m sure in a few decades you’ll be able to resell it for some pretty money. I mean, can you imagine?” Bdubs gestures when the assassin takes hold of the book. “‘The prophet prince’s last drawings.’ People will fight for it!”

The assassin doesn’t seem to find it quite as funny as Bdubs does. They stare at him blankly, jaw slack, before seemingly remembering to look down at the pages, ignoring Bdubs’ grin as they do. He doesn’t let it get him down. Instead he watches their piercing grey eyes dance across the pages. He doesn’t think he did them justice. He wishes he had more time. They genuinely are beautiful.

Their fingers run over the sketches. As they study the depictions of themselves knocking Bdubs unconscious and slitting his wrist, Bdubs can’t help but hyperfocus on their hands. They’re like a pianist’s. He wonders if they play instruments. Are Obliviate assassins allowed to partake in hobbies? Arts?

“I wasn’t sent by anyone,” their voice force Bdubs out of his imaginings. They stop on a page depicting them hopping out of Bdubs’ bedroom through the window and disappearing into the darkness of the night. It was a bit of a challenging pose to figure out. Bdubs is proud of that sketch. He doesn’t think it’s what they’re admiring. “My actions were planned by myself, in opposition to my orders. You are dangerous, but no one seems to see that.”

Bdubs swallows heavily. A strange calm had settled over him, ever since the assassin revealed themselves — but their saying that turns his blood to ice. He’s suddenly aware of every inch of his body, and the way they scream at him to run, or hide, or fight — something. Instead, he stays frozen as the assassin circles him, takes in the room as if they hadn’t been spying on him for stars know how long.

“You showing me this,” they tap their fingers on the pages. “It made me realise something I hadn’t considered before.”

Bdubs opens his mouth to speak, but the assassin continues before he gets even a sound out:

“If I choose not to kill you tonight. What happens with your vision?”

“I…” Bdubs looks down at his dead body laid on the pages. It’s hard to speak. He should stop staring. He can’t. “I don’t… know. Every single thing I’ve predicted has come true, no matter how hard I’ve worked to stop them. I don’t know what happens if… if they don’t. I think it would just push away the inevitable. If you don’t kill me today, then you’ll do it on the next blood moon. Or the one after. It’s not the first blood moon I’ve seen since the vision, after all. I could just be wrong on the exact date. Both of us could be.”

The assassin shakes their head. “Even if the date isn’t right, I won’t do it like this,” they gesture at the book. “So it still wouldn’t be true. Besides, you knew this blood moon was to be the one. I’ve been watching you for a long time. You’ve never called out to me the way you have tonight. You knew it was today.”

“I just… felt it, somehow. I tend to, with my visions. Even if nothing indicates a specific date within the vision itself, I just… feel it, when it’s about to happen,” he shrugs. “With normal prophecies — you know, the one they do all those fancy rituals for? With those, it’s kind of a fifty-fifty as to whether they’ll actually happen. But mine have always, always come true, no matter what. I’m just too good at this divination thing!” He laughs. It comes out wrong. Stilted. Tearful.

The assassin watches Bdubs pace.

Bdubs’ eyes find the image of the assassin’s bloodied blade, placed in his limp hand.

“...I don’t wanna die,” he finally admits, quietly. A few tears roll their ways down his cheeks. “I just know — well, I don’t know… what’s meant to, to happen. If you stop it, I mean. I don’t know what happens if you don’t kill me. If I— If I wake up, tomorrow. I don’t know what… what would happen. I’m not meant to. It— It won’t. It won’t happen. You know?” he looks up, his lips trembling uncontrollably.

He feels like a damn child.

The assassin is obviously uncomfortable. Their previously relaxed posture grows suddenly tense. Their shoulders are almost all the way to where Bdubs assumes their ears would be. They reach into their coat and Bdubs gasps, sharply. His eyes squeeze shut. He expects the stab of a knife. For all of it to have been a ruse. A way to finally end their conversation and get to the very reason they came here.

But nothing comes.

Bdubs takes one, two — up to three shaky, hiccuping breaths, before he opens his eyes again and looks up. What he sees is not a knife, but instead a handkerchief. It’s held in front of him awkwardly, the assassin staring at him unblinking. Bdubs hesitates, before he takes it and wipes the tears off his face. Except the very act of compassion coming from what should be his assassin makes his tears double, and Bdubs sobs embarrassingly against the cloth.

“We’ll find out what happens when a vision of yours does not come to fruition, then. Because I won’t kill you. You won’t die by my hand, prince Bdubs.”

Their voice is so gentle, now. Bdubs nearly chokes on air as he tries to calm himself. As he tries to listen. Take it in.

“I was only sent here because we found out about your vision. Before you worry — none within your court knows. We’ve only inferred it through our surveillance. I will report back, explain what happened. They’ll send another spy to continue monitoring your safety. Oblivion never wanted you dead, so you won’t have to be afraid of them. And it means… you’ll know: There’s a way to stop your visions.”

Before Bdubs can say anything, before he can thank them, they turn away. They take a step to leave. Bdubs’ tears stop in an instant, and he reaches for them. For their cloak. He pulls them back towards him, and wraps his arms around them in a tight embrace, feels the air escape from their lungs as he squeezes.

“Thank you,” he says, voice only shaking a little as he clings to the assassin’s clothes. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you. I don’t even know your name, I—”

“My— My name’s not important.” The assassin’s voice is strained, as if in pain. They pat Bdubs’ hand in what he assumes is a gentle attempt to pry him off. He doesn’t let go quite yet. “We won’t meet again. Just… try to find a way to stop your visions. If anything, for your own sake.”

Bdubs shakes his head. “I won’t let you leave,” he declares. “Not after you saved my life. Not after you did… did this. You were sent to protect me, right? So you must be pretty good! Then, I want you to stay. I can write to Oblivion, get them to keep you here. Then you can help me stop the visions from coming true again. Yeah?”

He finally pulls away so he can walk around the assassin and face them, sniffing as he watches them shake their head.

“I’m not a protector. I’m an assassin. The only reason I was sent here was to neutralise your murderer. Since I technically have, there’s no reason for me to stay. Especially now that I’ve revealed myself to you. It… goes against almost every tenets of the code,” they sigh, reaching to pinch the bridge of their nose. “It just can’t happen. I’m sorry.”

“... Will they hurt you? For… you know,” Bdubs gestures. Could the price of his life be his would-be assassin’s death? Does he want to know? “...If not your full name, can you give me… I dunno, a nickname, the first letter — anything? I don’t wanna forget the person who broke my curse. Please? Then I’ll let you leave. And I’ll promise not to speak a word of this. To anyone.”

The other furrows their brow, and studies Bdubs’ face. They shake their head again, and brush Bdubs’ hands off themselves. “Slab,” they finally offer. Bdubs recognises it: A clan name. A… very prominent one. “And what happens to me isn’t something for you to worry about. I’m… uh… Sorry. For causing you stress.”

There’s an awkward pause, then, before they take a step back. Bdubs lets them. He watches them as they climb back up to the rafters, open a window, and leave without a trace.

“...Slab…” Bdubs looks down at his sketchbook, hugs it to his chest. Clouds creep closer to the blood moon, obscuring its glow. The observatory is plunged in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering candles on Bdubs’ desk.

He’s alive. His vision has come and gone.

He sits at his desk. Opens his sketchbook, picks up a pen, and begins sketching.

He draws until the sun rises. A feverish attempt to burn the Slab assassin’s image in his head. Draws until one of his retainers knocks on the door and scolds him for not showing up at breakfast. Until they drag him out of the observatory, force him to breathe the fresh air outside.

He’s free of the burn in his lungs as he’s smothered into unconsciousness, of the blade splitting his arms open.

He’s alive.

#pltclau #writings

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cliffs-sniperrifle · 8 months ago

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Kojima's perception of big boss and clifford unger: the relationship between mother and son

Where best to start than with big boss. The catalyst for big boss becoming the man he was, was none other than his only figure, his 'mother' the boss being killed by his own hands. From then on in the serious, he takes a serious change in character that leaves him spiraling until his mother’s grave is the only place to feel loved.

Kojima decides that one of the many ways to show big boss's attachment to the boss is having him carve out that same c-section scar that she had. We already know of its importance of the scar from the boss as she had explained America already had taken everything from her, including her son, so there was nothing left for her to do except give her life (hence leaving john to take it) it's an interesting choice that big boss decides to take that scar from her and put it on himself, the exact same pattern of the botched c-section (like a snake). Later we find out that eva had volunteered to have big boss's children through his cells and using her as an incubator.

Now talking about Cliff. While Cliff was married to Lisa who had gotten pregnant around the time of the first death stranding happening, she got into a fatal car crash that essentially left her braindead and in a coma. The child was able to be saved and put into the BB program, incubated while Cliff constantly visited BB and Lisa in the hospital room. From then on Cliff was thrown into a role of both mother and father, sharing stories of his life and talking to Lisa in front of BB. But when it was found out that the BB program was going to take BB from Cliff and never giving it the chance to be born, Cliff, even after death vowed to set his child free.

The moment Cliff and BB were killed, set off a chain of events, but most importantly changes that effect how both Sam and Cliff are perceived. They both ended up being shot right in the abdomen, connecting them not only as father and son, but through death as a string.

But dare I even say connected as mother and unborn child. I say this because of the constant parallels put in the game. Kojima describing Cliffs cords as umbilical cords as well as holding a misconstrued version of his BB whenever he shows up as a BT ghost. Sam swimming in the waters of the beach every time he 'dies', flaoting like a baby in the womb. Connected by other BTs by cords adjacent to umbilical cords. It's hard to just see these things being put in as a coincidence when this can be heavily interpreted as a relationship between a pregnant mother and her baby, even sam shows this behavior passed down with him and Lou. Connecting with her through the cord hooked up (umbilical cord) viewing his memories through her. Being possessive when people try and take her from him or even being separated for too long. That C-section like scar that he shares with Cliff. And what tops it off is how the typical mothers in both of these relationships are never shown. Lisa was already in a coma when we see her and Lucy has been dead before the game even started. They are important figures in Sam and Cliff's relationship but aren't important to focus on them being mothers, rather than mother imagery and symbolism being used on Sam and Cliff instead.

C-section like scars for reference:

I just find it extremely interesting that Kojima has now TWICE used this imagery for important male figures in his games that tie down to deeper symbolism than at first glance, just viewing it as "coincidental" scars in the same places but not really understanding the purpose and place of the scars.

Big boss has the scar to symbolize his deep unhealthy attachment to the boss and his twisted vision of who and what she stood for. He carries her to her own grave, his love for her was never surpassed by anyone else.

Cliff's scar is not only there as a reminder of how he and Sam are connected by amelie and john (by proxy) but that deep connection that exists between a pregnant mother and that unborn child.

#melon rambling #mgs #death stranding #cliff unger #clifford unger #big boss #be nice this is the first long ramble I’ve posted on here

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rexthefox · 1 year ago

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Time to make my only real contribution to the fandom sorry for the long post! It's theorey ranting time!!

Sooo about that funny little admin override Uzi did.

Uzi is now the admin of N and V.

We've seen that Cyn uses them as her puppet, Eldrith J in episode 2 was Cyn, Cyn was puppeting the drones in the manor during episode 5.

So when a solver drone (Or zombie drone) becomes the admin of another I assume they can all do this! Therefore. Uzi may be able to take control of V or N and use them as puppets! Though she most definitely won't(On N at least If she learns she can do this there's a chance she might use it on V? But a very small chance) , however she could become an admin of the other worker drones in the colony and basically turn the colony into puppets to, once again she probably wouldn't do this.

But this got me thinking. If N or V "die" or get damaged enough for the backup solver to activate, would they get different puppet/eldrith monster forms based on Uzi would there be clones of Uzi? We don't actually know if Cyn's physical body is still on earth or anything but Cyn managed to grow out of J's corpse so could Uzi do the same? Pilot the dead bodies of her friends? Then again I want to assume the solver Uzi and Doll have is different from Cyns or at least it's more personalized for them , because Doll and Uzi can't go all holo spooky snake crab...yet? They might be able to but I'm still a strong believer that each eldrith horror solver firm would be different depending on the host.

Anyway I got the urge to post this because I had a dream glitch posted a teaser for episode 6 of murder drones and it was like the scene of N breaking into the colony in the pilot episode but different and only one poor guy who was trying to sweep dies, except Uzi was on his shoulders and was also controlling him, which could be told from the feral Uzi giggles, and the X on his screen was purple :] I love the puppet theorey.

Anyway theres my funky thoughts, I might actually post more who knows!

#murder drones #glitch productions

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starry-blue-echoes · 2 years ago

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for the beastars au I like to imagine that joestars shapeshift at roughly the same time and when they do change they see their little child in their beast form as well and they're like p r o t e c t- and cuddle the little baby. just imagine snake bird joseph curled up with little baby Holly and she's so so fluffy. Honestly I imagine her as a sort of duck/rabbit sort of animal bc she just gives the energy, but idk if you have anything for her yet. And then Holy doing the same for Jotaro. And Jotaro doing the same for Jolyne-

Also, hc that Holly is in complete control of her beast form because when Joseph sat her down to tell her about it and how it happens to their family and that it isn't to be afraid of she's just like "okay!" and wholeheartedly believes him

-ffa

YESSSSSSSSSS

Food Chain and Natural Predators be damned, they're going to love and care for each other so freaking much. They are Pack and Flock and every other word to define it, they must stick together and keep each other safe

Joseph is probably the most touchy feely out of them all. He's already a pretty physically affectionate guy, so when he's a beast it just gets cranked up to 11. And while Holly has already kinda been established as a rabbit/river otter, you're absolutely right in how cuddly and fluffy she is. She's definitely on the smaller side compared to all the other Joestars, and when she was a baby she was tiny. Joseph would sometimes spend the whole night wrapped around her, grooming her fur and cuddling together

With Jotaro, while he and Holly do spend a decent chunk of time being affectionate, a lot of their time on forced nights is spent swimming together. Holly spent hours teaching him how to swim, and even when he gets older and he easily dwarfs her in size, he always looks to her for guidance and direction in the water. He's viciously protective, but Holly is just as much if not more so since...... well, river otters are apex predators and there are some kinds that regularly throw down with and hunt crocodiles and win

and just. Jotaro being super cuddly with Jolyne. When she was a baby, Marina was one of the only people he'd let anywhere close to her on full moons. And while this protectiveness slowly died down over the years, it was always still very prominent. Most of their forced transformations were spent in the house sleeping, but Jotaro would also sometimes take Jolyne to a body of water so they could swim together :>

also, I had a fun idea of for the most part, the beast forms are "easier" to control as children. As a child, you aren't saddled with the crushing social expectations of life. The world is so bright and full of magic and so little is understood and that's what makes it so fun. The beast forms are just another part of who they are, they don't understand why it would be considered strange or monstrous

that isn't to say their upbringing has no affect on their control. For example, the Brando children (with the exception of Rikiel) all have very poor control because of a lack of proper, healthy guidance and toxic environments. However, in those first few years when they're infants and toddlers...... they're still themselves. Children are subject completely to their whims, not even being able to comprehend cause and effect yet. They rarely act differently from when they're human, now they just have a couple more limbs

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crowleys-bentley-and-plants · 3 months ago

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ducks, apple, ox rib, nebula, polaroid, zombies, goats, fly, coffee, tartan socks :)

ducks - are you good with animals? could you lead a revolution with them?

Depends on what kind of animals. Wolves? Yes. Snakes? Also yes. Cats? Absolutely not they would eat me raw

apple - what's your guilty pleasure?

I dont feel guilty about my pleasures

ox rib - if you were some type of food, what kind of food would you be?

It would depend on the person (yes im magic food that can change) but it would be something that will make you sick but you wont be able to get enough of it :)

nebula - something you've done that you're really proud of?

Not died

polaroid - what's a bittersweet memory?

A memory that simultaneously makes you happy and sad

zombies - what are you most afraid of?

Nothing i have no fear

goats - if goats could speak, do you think they should be able to vote? why or why not? explain.

Since they only get till about the age of 14 i would say no because they're not of age yet

fly - tell us a secret. shh it's okay we won't tell anyone (except all of tumblr)

I actually really love petnames i just dont know how to function if someone calls me smt so that's why i say i dont like them

coffee - describe what you would do if you were in a coffee shop au with your crush and there was an apocalypse out there and all you had to defend yourself is whatever is at hand in the coffee shop (mugs, coffee machine, plates, cash register, desserts, chairs, tables, napkins, etc). the enemies are floating heads who want to kidnap your crush. go

I am the kind of person who's gonna try to be heroic but fail miserably so I'll probably use a chair to try to get the floating heads away from my crush but i would accidentally throw every chair so we wont have anything to defend us with anymore. Then i would use plates as frisbees to try to hit the heads but fail miserably because despite playing volleyball for like twelve years i have shit aim. My crush would probably leave through the back door by this time and i wouldnt notice because im trying to be tough and cool and try to impress them so i would then take a fork to try to stab the eyes. Fail again. And uhhh. My crush would not go on a second date with me lol

tartan socks - hot or not?

Well considering i own a pair of tartan socks and im very very hot i would say yes the hottest

#ask game #asksks #two can play this game bestie :)

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myucornerorg · 7 months ago

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After reading a couple nonfiction books from the library (one being the "clean living" book seen in the first pic), I decided to read some of the mangas downloaded to my Kindle.

The first one I read was Magilumiere: Magical Girls Inc, which I already posted about. As for the others in the first pic, I actually finished The Weakest Tamer Began a Journey to Pick Up Trash first after Magilumiere, but since I finished it and My Stepmother and Stepsisters Aren't Wicked on the same day, Goodreads listed them weird. Then yesterday I started the manga in the second pic, My [Repair] Skill Became a Versatile Cheat, So I Think I'll Open a Weapons Shop.

The Weakest Tamer Began a Journey to Pick Up Trash is one of those "reincarnated with a past life's memories in a fantasy world" kind of fantasy stories, which I think is an Isekai subgenre?? Usually it's used with "reincarnated as a villainess" stories, though, and this doesn't seem to be that kind of story (unlike other similar stories, we're not told where the main character, Ivy, came from or how she got reincarnated into this world at the beginning - only that she has memories of a past life...so that already is different). Anyway, in this story Ivy gets ostracized when she's identified as a "starless," basically someone who has magic but at a zero-star level, which makes her magic so weak she's basically useless. Even her own family rejects her, and later the kind fortune-teller who helped her learn how to survive in the forest dies because the village chief heard she associated with a "starless" and refused to provide her with the healing potion she needed. After this, she takes off, using the survival skills and basic magic bags the fortune teller provided her with to get by. Having no money at first, she's forced to salvage through town dumps for resources, or eat whatever animals she can capture with traps (she does have a monster taming ability, as the title suggests, but hers is so weak she can only tame super weak monsters). She eventually manages to make some money from selling field mice she captured, and even snakes in one chapter (those she sells to the apothecary). A few chapters in, she encounters a super weak slime that even she, with her weak power, can tame. After naming her Sora, they set off together, and Sora ends up being more useful than Ivy expected, since it can absorb both organic and inorganic matter (most slimes in this world can only do one or the other). It may even be able to heal, if the ending of the volume is any indication. (According to the bonus short story, though, Sora is not very good with directions lol).

My Stepmother and Stepsisters Aren't Wicked is, as you might guess from the title, a take on the classic Cinderella story. Except in this case the Cinderella character, Miya, is the illegitimate child of a rich man, and that man's wife and daughters (the titular stepmother and stepsisters) take her in when her mother dies. But while she expects them to be really mean, they're actually really nice! But the mother is still stern and intimidating, and the daughters are spoiled and always trying to one-up each other, so their kindness kind of comes across in a comedic tsundere sort of way. Miya constantly worries that she's offended them, only for them to respond completely positively, no matter what happens. It is funny, but at the same time I feel like such a gag might get old after a while. Not sure though.

As for the last one, My [Repair] Skill Became a Versatile Cheat, So I Think I'll Open a Weapons Shop, like I said, I just started reading it. It's a fantasy about dungeon exploration, much like the Delicious in Dungeon series I've been watching on Netflix recently. But this one obviously has a different story. The main character, Luke, is a seasoned adventurer with 15 years of experience under his belt, but since his only skill is [Repair], a skill which has next to no usage in combat, he's still an E-rank adventurer (the lowest rank that is allowed to do dungeon raids). He finally got recruited by a powerful hero to join his dungeon raiding party, only to be treated as their pack mule and ultimately betrayed by the hero over a relatively minor issue (that doesn't even seem to be his fault). Left by his former party mates in the dungeon to die, he resolves to at least find a way out, even if all he has is his [Repair] skill and an old sword the hero gave him out of pity. Fortunately for him, he's able to make his [Repair] skill evolve seemingly subconsciously (hence the "cheat" part of the title, I guess), which, combined with finding a shortcut by punching a hole in a rock wall with his sword (something even the hero in his party couldn't do), allows him to finally escape after 2 weeks. He then helps save a samurai girl named Sakura who is cornered by a dragon by lending her his sword, and then using his [Repair] skill to heal her (he's not sure he can at first, since the skill doesn't usually work on living things, so when he succeeds he's as surprised as anyone - also doing so DOES make him pass out for half a day, so he's not crazy OP, like heroes in these stories often are). After making it to the settlement where Sakura and her friend Sylvia (daughter of the local innkeeper) are living, he decides to take a break from adventuring (at his level, he can't re-enter the dungeon he came from by himself anyway, as adventurers can only enter dungeons that are at their level or below, unless they're in a party with a leader of the right level, which Luke was before) and use his [Repair] skill to open a weapons shop, since the town doesn't have one currently (probably because the forest where Luke found Sakura and Sylvia just recently got classified as a dungeon). And, as far as I've read, this seems to go well (the fact that he helped kill a dragon certainly helps bring in customers). He does get into a bit of trouble with some local knights, though, because the members of his former party have gone missing, and since he got out alone, he's a prime suspect behind their disappearance. Also, he harvested mithril from the wall he broke, which only certain people are allowed to harvest (though to be fair he didn't know it was mithril, so he gets a pass there, though the knights still make him replicate how he broke the wall as proof of his story). And that's about where I'm at in the story.

Definitely enjoying my reads so far!

#manga #magilumiere magical girls inc.#my stepmother and stepsisters aren't wicked #the weakest tamer began a journey to pick up trash #my repair skill became a versatile cheat so i think i'll open a weapons shop #my [repair] skill became a versatile cheat so i think i'll open a weapons shop

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