#the best part is its all lucid dreaming so like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeoncopi · 11 months

Text

• — freedom overseas — •

GET INTO IT: feeling carefree each time he traveled shouldn’t be different for jungkook. as much as he wishes to feel like this back home, he can’t help but restrict himself at all times. - one thing about you working abroad and his schedules matching your timezones (better when it hits same destination), he could only wish and live for the best. ‘cause that’s exactly what he’ll get.

pairing: jungkook x reader.

word count: 3.4k

be aware of: graphic smut and unprotected sex (be always safe). reader can’t resist jk, car sex, jungkook smokes here so uhm.. y-yeah..

author’s note: since this is supposed to be a drabble (lol). hopefully my next work will end up being with more than 2k (lol) kisses and let me know what you think 😇. istg this story changed 2837 times hajaja

when you step outside the restaurant walking towards jungkook who’s smoking, footsteps froze at the sudden image.

he smokes? since.. when?

bewildered, you blink twice as your eyes carefully watch him take another hit of the small nicotine. this is definitely a whole new side of him you didn’t know about.. completely new, but it got you confused. you’re not crazy to remember him talking about his hate for cigarettes because of how much his dad used to do it back when he was little.. right? like that wasn’t a dream. you’re pretty sure he has expressed his disgust to you. almost agreeing with you.

sigh..

the more you look at him as you approach him feels like you can’t even get mad at him.

..why? well.. pinocchio wouldn’t be proud of you if you say he didn’t looked hot doing it.

ugh! what are these thoughts!

you definitely despise the smell of cigarettes! you even hate the sight of it, but why does he gives you quite the view? - you blame it on the way he carries himself with so much confidence yet— is so unbothered when he opens his mouth talking with your friends. his outfit too and how an all black combo always look so good on him.. but then, the simplest thing as him holding that tiny folded paper around his pointy and middle finger touching in between his soft and natural pink lips with a very boyish smile almost made you feel like having a lucid dream. why? because.. well, you were definely wet now.

what..? no!

yes, you are. you could feel it now. if only he could feel it through your panties..

mm.. no!!

mm.. yes!! you hated daydreaming fantasies with him like this but your body and mind could be very uncontrollable sometimes. feeling a single drop down your panties.. what can you do now? aren’t you supposed to hate this? you do! but why is your body reacting this way? it’s not wrong but it isn’t entirely right either considering you don’t like cigarettes.

deciding to ignore all the carnal thoughts running through your mind, you keep walking straight to him. as sticky and annoying as it feels.

“so.. is this your way of getting fresh air?” you start as soon as your friends started parting ways. tone rather calm compared to the troubled mindset you had a few seconds ago.

startling him, softly so. “ah.. ha. this.” he responds. eyes blinking on beat as soon as he grins. you watch carefully as his hand shakes the little tobacco rolled paper.

“yeah.. this.” shyly pointing at it, “how long has this being going on?” voice still calm, you didn’t put too much effort in questioning him. it’s his body at the end of the day and you know just how stubborn your boyfriend can get.

“mm..” smoke exhaling from his mouth and he’s mindfully careful when he does it tilting his head up for the smoke to follow that direction and not be even near close your entire face. “not long ago, actually. taehyung once brought this one vaper and i was curious by its smell each time he used it, so I bought one. strawberry ice cream, to be clear,” he laughed, you do too. “it was weird but I liked it.”

“hm..” slowly crossing your arms around your body you lean against his car in thought. not breaking eye contact even a second, jungkook could feel it. “what made you change your mind? m’not gonna lie. I’m surprised. I remember you once saying you hated it.”

and it’s like your gaze is looking for answers and jungkook can clearly see that. knows you too much. thinks it’s so cute too. the way your curiosity rises each time he takes another hit, he can trust your mind being full of unanswered questions for him. he knows what you mean as well as knowing how much you don’t like it either. but the fact that you aren’t mentioning none of it to him it just makes him look at you with nothing more but warm eyes. thinking he loves you too much.

“so do you.” he states by wanting to make that clear. so you know that he knows. so you know that he won’t and isn’t getting crazy about it, that he’s aware. but you could only understand that if he really explained why.

so that’s what he does.

“remember that day when I texted you about living one life?” you nod. “well, I decided to just give it a try. I want to try everything that I can when it comes to things that I want. be it temporally or not. during my whole life.. as long as I live, there’s probably not gonna be a second chance right?”

“right.”

“at least not in this body,” and he’s so soft spoken that when he shakes once more what’s left of the cigarette’s butt before taking his last hit, the sound of a familiar plastic sound resonates through your ears and that’s when you see him pull two tiny tabs of what seems to be gum off his pocket. and you can’t believe he just did that. suddenly the image you were seeing right now, not matching with his current actions. so you can’t help but give a small smile as soon as he handles one tab for you to take with his pretty big eyes.

he continues, “even though it damages my body a little, there’s a balance thing called in life. i’m not getting addicted and I don’t do it excessively-“

“I was worrying about that, actually..” you voice out, interrupting him. “you tend to get obsessive over things.”

it makes him smile, softly. “I know. but I won’t, I promise. you know my thing is drinking alcohol anyways.. even though that isn’t entirely good either..” making you laugh in unison as you lightly punch him.

“at least you’re aware.”

“hey!” he hugs you side ways. “candy isn’t so much good for your health either..” walking towards the side of his car so you can go.

“but i’m not obsessed.” you huff about it.

“could be. you do get a bit obsessive.” bopping your nose.

“stop!”

making him laugh, “okay.. hop on.”

“I hate you.”

“show me how much.” and.. he closes the door with the biggest playful smile.

oh.. no, not again.

and there you are, left with a big hysterical smile plastered on your lips as you try to breath in, breath out the sudden rush of your body. — come on! it’s not as if you weren’t fucking wet a few minutes ago as soon as you saw him do the things you hated the most.. right? ..you totally got this..

but who.. who were you lying to? it’s not like you could control your body when you haven’t seen him in weeks anyways..

yeah.. you were a mess.

still, you tried to play it cool. “are we heading back towards the hotel, right?” genuily asking.

he responds as soon as he closes his door. “yeah, why?” staring at you now. “wanna go somewhere else?” one palm touching your bare thigh when he asks.. you know there’s nothing wrong with it, and it should be normal at this point of your relationship too, but your hormones were getting the best of you so you just play it off, gently pulling his hand away as much as you didn’t wanted to. deep inside.

“not actually, was just asking.” it’s the truth, but jungkook only squinted his eyes before resting an arm on top of the handbrake, his face’s closer to yours. not enough for you to loose your sanity but close enough into getting a whiff of his rich cloudy scent. although, you can’t deny how fine he looked staring at you like that, his eyes always seemed to shine no matter the situation. only that this time around, everything you could sense from it was nothing more than desire flaming throughout his dark orbits.

“you know we can go wherever you want, right?” staying like that for a couple of seconds, all you can answer is a slight nervous “I know.” and jungkook can sense your sudden shyness. thinking is cute but this could only go one way or the other.. if you both play your cards right.

staring at you for a couple of seconds, jungkook’s piercing gaze switch between your lips along with your boobs and neck before getting ready to turn on the car.. making you exhale a little air after, as if you didn’t know you were holding your breath.

“originally, I wanted to get back so I could brush my teeth or something to be honest.” talking about smoking. “I’m not much of a fan of the aftertaste,” he laughs. “but if you want to go somewhere else,” a hand slides through your thigh.. again. only this time, he squeezes it two times. “I’m down for it too.”

one hand on the steering wheel, another one on your thigh.. it’s moments like these when you question if he knows how effortlessly irresistible he is.. sure, it might be something simple. he’s not doing much either. is just that his side profile and the way his hair lingers in his face and overall the way he’s shaped and how you can literally see the bump of his chest pop for how much he works out mark through his shirt that it makes you want to trace his pectorals with your fingers forever makes you want to eat him and that’s it but.. uh, isn’t that the definition of being so stupidly effortlessly hot?

when you softly press both your legs together, his hand seems to scalate close to your inner thigh..

oh jungkook.. perhaps, are you having the same thoughts as me?

still, you try your best to ignore it. “ah.. so that’s why you have gum with you, isn’t it?”

“caught.” rising both hands up as played guilty.

and as you stare at him.. you notice once again, he looked fine. your legs squeeze and you slightly arch your back when your gaze is back on the street still trying to ignore the finest hottie beside you. - jungkook, on the other hand, just smiles to himself and starts driving. you can’t help but give little sneak peeks at the way he gently but confidently grasps the wheel with one hand.. as soon as the other one approaches your thigh once again.. - he always did this but you were uncontrollable tonight. can’t help but immediately give him those eyes as soon as he reaches your beloved red light.

you swore going back to the hotel wasn’t the main priority. you wanted him now. - so slowly tilting your head to the side, your voice is airy when “babe..”

“mmh?”

and that’s when he sees you. you don’t say a word but he already knows what’s that thing you’re craving the most, and that thing it’s him. he doesn’t speak either. just staring at you under the red light, his hand traces a path towards your slowly opening legs. when you bite your lips into a smirk, his fingers are already pushing your panties to the side. confirming his most prominent thought. you’re wet as fuck.

“were you waiting for this?” eyes gazing up and down your body, his voice is cheeky when he asks. biting down both of his lip rings. “fuck. just how long were you this turned on?” playing with your clit “and why didn’t you told me..” as your body twitches. “it makes me crazy..” whispering more to himself.

—

when you’re gripping the head of his seat increasing the pressure between your arms so you could balance your jumps more deeper and precisely above him, he feels like he could cum in any moment. controlling his breathing, he tries to concentrate in order not to but the way your breast bounce and how you manage to leave quick steamy kisses over his neck makes it so hard. mostly when he has this desire to kiss all over your chest and suck on your titties. but his hands are also gripping so hard at the side of the seat, he barely touches your legs and he feels like a teenager are over again.

the fuck is this coming from him not wanting to last? he blames it on the long time you haven’t seen each other. 3 weeks exactly without your kisses and physical touch.. when he remember fucking almost (if not) everyday when you stayed at his house or he stayed at yours. - there’s always this deep desire whenever you’re close to each other, jungkook doesn’t think it will ever go away and to be honest he doesn’t even want it to ever disappear. always thinking about if it’s you, then everything will be okay.

but as you’re both very into it, something similar like a flash, lights up a little the dark street jungkook managed to set you up. - you both ignore it at first but after two more times, you stop bouncing hard on him switching to slow circular movements that still makes jungkook bite his lips for how good you feel.

“don’t stop.” he’s confident, palming your ass.

“I think there’s someone watching us.”

“I’ve notice too.”

but you both end up stopping your movements regardless.

quickly looking around, the flashes has seemed to be gone but as you keep searching for someone, jungkook just stares at you only to caught your attention back by squeezing your ass two times. making your eyes meet as he mischievously smirks.

“I couldn’t care less from last time, you know it.” sensually kissing your lips. he’s provoking you all over again.. “let them have a show. it’s what they want.”

and you know he’s referring to that one time you both fucked on a balcony being overseas too. - paparazzis had caught you fucking and while you were worried about him getting bashed for it (for the blurry clips that spreaded back then), he ended up being so calm about it to the point of fighting with his company saying he shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to fuck his girlfriend. - and while he understands the depth of why they asked him to be careful, he still thinks it’s just bullshit and that the people who love him for him, will just accept and be happy that he’s happy experiencing what every normal person does. so why everybody can be happy but him? he’s just the same human with needs and desires..

“but this isn’t-“

“stop worrying about me. I know you can’t help it, so let me just say there’s nothing wrong with us wanting to fuck.. I bet they’ve their own experience so why can’t we have ours?”

when you hold his face, you know what he means. knowing how hard it is for him to tell you to stop worrying about it since he once told you he couldn’t just tell that to you because it make him feel careless about your feelings, but you do really get him this time..

when it comes from his personality, a part of you loved that. love that he doesn’t care, love that he always chooses his happiness because at the end of the day he knows he might only have this one life. and even if he don’t, he still wants to enjoy it at his best and that’s why when he motions your hips to move by gripping the side of your waist, both of your bodies stick so close to each other that the image of him biting his lips as he contemplates your body makes you not want to regret this and so you don’t. realizing you’ll only have this from time to time.

“fuck this.” you moan to his ear when jungkook kisses are needy and steamy, confirming just how badly he wanted to try this.

talking about it it’s something but actually experience this feeling of sex in such a limited place (even when this car is very spacious) was really hot and adrenaline reaching. windows foggy and all, it almost feel like a movie. you believe that at this rate it’s even difficult to look at inside the car so if those strangers were really filming or whatever, they’re footage will be already ruined.

you smiled a little because of that. but it didn’t lasted long when you suddenly feel both of jungkook’s hands around your hips manhandling the way you were going to start bouncing on him.

“let them see if they’re so interested in me. I couldn’t care less.” he just doesn’t give a single fuck right now and that only makes you want him more.

see, whenever he’s on his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ moment.. you believe that’s when he’s the most sexiest and dangerous. - maybe you were too into him but each time he showed this side of himself.. you can’t help but love it and be turned on for it at the same time.

—

while he treats you like his personal fucktoy, he does gives you times were you could move at you own pace. but the sounds and the way he touched you were making it hard for you so there’s nothing left when you say, “I- I want to cum.” with such a tiny desperate voice, it makes jungkook grin.

“do it.” voice tender compare with his hot-messy image. “mm, i’ll cum too if you do.” moaning afterwards.

and the good thing is that he really can make himself cum once you do. all he has to do is concentrate in the way your walls contracts into him as if they were gonna swallow, he loves it each time. say it feels too rich, too tight for him to handle. - so when you’re both done, after driving for a while, you don’t see more cars trying to follow you.

“gonna sleep so well tonight, i’m so fucking happyyy” he singsongs as soon as he lays in bed, pulling you into his chest for a hug. “no more nightmares,” he kisses your forehead. “my princess is here.”

smiling to himself, you feel so shy and loved at the same time. gently kissing his lips. “I can say the same.” lovey-dovey eyes looking at him.

he caresses your hair. ”my pretty little princess.”

you smile. “I hope you don’t go hard on yourself.” saying after knowing what’s coming if there really was someone witnessing what happened earlier.

“don’t worry.” softly smiling, “I told you I didn’t cared, didn’t I?” caressing one of your cheeks.

“hm. but still.”

it makes him look at you with warms eyes. “keep being cute. i’m grateful that you worry this much about me..”

“don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you. it’s the truth.” pause. “I just love how caring you are because that means you really must love me..” tone serious.

“of course I do, silly!” you tease him, making him laugh.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“let’s sleep now. we’ve so much things to do..”

“..and so much little time..” you follow.

“I know.” he sighs. “but we can make it.”

“we always do.” you proudly smile, he does too.

“I love us so much.” he says once again.

you laugh. “okay, let’s sleep sentimental boy.”

“you love me this way.”

“you know I do.”

and after teasing each other for a while, you both end up falling into your sleep for a brand new, busy and maybe more exciting day..

2K notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

Note

sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.

and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...

SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*

Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO

Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK

Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("

SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-

Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao

Edit Update 4/6/23:

Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol

I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-

Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first

WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3

Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???

Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming,

but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-

Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)

It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.

I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-

It was just…wow. 🥺

You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway

She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.

After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,

Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,

“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *

…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.

…Oh no.

♧

Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!

Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀

Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.

Then he would scribble for hours.

Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)

The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou

At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language

They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol

Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)

But even then not immediately,

Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?

Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)

Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!

It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today

…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…

◇

Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,

or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,

your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue

So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/

Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier

But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats

…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.

You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around

You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps

You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)

And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city

…so why not go?

It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀

You can totally handle being like the traveler too,

You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!

So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems

(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️

And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you

So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with

Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!

...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!

◇

When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-

He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol

He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands

“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...)

But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol

Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?

She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,

His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-”

Cyno stops and blinks.

Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.

You blink.

Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.

The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.

◇

Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner,

As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch

But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.

Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face

The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic

Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,

“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?

Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine

“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,

“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”

Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,

and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too

With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…

Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!

With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands

You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after

You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow

He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away

You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)

The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-

and it fucking explodes.

Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.

The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-

You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)

Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno

Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow

…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,

and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/

Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-

“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."

… and you just 🙂? Cool!

And give a thumbs up👍LMAO

☆

Bonus:

Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.

Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-

Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol

Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao

(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)

♡

ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!

Bro has anyone else had this problem???

I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!

FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH

ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED

And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:

*hint = Atbash

:> good luck!

Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭

Safe Travels,

💀♒

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

3K notes · View notes

interstellairs · 3 months

Text

🌙 ⋆ dream work and magical heroes ᵎᵎ

NOTES 。this is NOT a roleplaying account, nor is this a form of delusion. the owner of this account is a practitioner of witchcraft, and IRL magical girls fall under the chaos magic and pop culture magic aspect of witchcraft.

as a practitioner whose main practices include the usage of dreams in my own magickal workings, i certainly do believe that it's possible to use them in the process of becoming a real life magical hero. this type of magick that i perform is referred to as dream work, and it's something that i think can go hand-in-hand with astral work, which is the secondary center of my witchcraft activities.

in this blog, i'll be discussing in length what dream work is, how it can be used by those who aspire to become magical heroes, and how it can also be used by non-magical heroes who practice witchcraft as an addition to their activities. in general, this will serve as a lengthy discussion to the magic and psychology held within the realm of dreams.

i think that everyone already knows what dreams are, but i'd like to expand further about them. dreams are believed by sigmund freud, a neurologist, as the unconscious' way of expressing itself in order to resolve repressed or unwanted emotions, experiences, and aggressive impulses. some experts suggests that having good dreams is related to good quality sleep.

in psychology, dream work is like what the name says; working with dreams to uncover secrets about ourselves, to explore the numerous images, ideas, emotions, and sensations that the dream presents us, in an attempt to discover how do these dreams manifests itself to us. those who work with dreams often thinks that a dream could have more than one meaning depending on what is being learned about and explored in the dream.

in gestalt-based dream work, it's suggested that all elements in a dream; the characters, the setting, basically everything that's seen, represent an aspect of the dreamer. it represents a part of the self, it shows you an inner dynamic.

the method in gestalt-based dream work is to revisit the dream from each perspective, to re-experience the dream as if you're each of these characters you saw in the dream, and as a result you can get a clear view on what is actually occuring with its underlying context, you find out what is actually going on within you, and at times dreams could be a reflection of our own reality, of what life is like to us.

in jungian-based dream work, it's believed that dreams are a way for the unconscious mind to communicate with the conscious mind. while freud thought that dreams hide their meanings, jung thought that dreams directly tell its own meanings through symbolisms and metaphors, placing heavy importance on the vivid mental images and symbolisms that these dreams shows us.

but if you're someone who's acquainted with your own dreams, such as being a lucid dreamer or dream work practitioner, you'd be able to achieve certain feats; from being able to remember your dreams in vivid detail, to being capable of tampering with it, communicating with entities through it, and even down to like setting up the dream realm as a place to perform certain spells and rituals without anyone knowing in the real world. we can also attain our goals of being a magical hero and communicate with our familiars through dreams.

in witchcraft, practitioners can use dream work as a way of entity communication, dream divination, dream interpretation, dream incubation, astral projection, and so forth. the following list includes the aforementioned activities and i'll explain how magical heroes can use these too.

dream work activities .ᐟ

dream interpretation: this is the process of assigning meaning and significance to a dream. dreams are subjective to each person, and even if there are shared meanings, it is best to look at the symbolisms from a personal point of view in interpretation.

some elements of the dream can have importance that is personal to the dreamer, while to others it does not, hence the subjectivity. for example, you dreamt of a red apple, and even if there are things online that you can use to base your interpretation off of, it's best to look into what a red apple would mean to you. in addition to that, dreams can be interpreted via intuition.

as a magical hero, sometimes we can get signs that are derived from the symbolisms and metaphors that we see during sleep, and i've witnessed some magical heroes be assigned a concept through a dream.

dream divination: also known as oneiromancy. it's a type of divination that focuses on gaining clarity and information derived from a dream, and this is something that is done alongside dream interpretation. this can be based on the belief that dreams sometimes come from entities, and to understand those messages, one must decipher what they dreamed of.

as a magical hero, this can be used as a way of communicating with your magical familiar or any other magical entity you'd like to get in contact with. personally, i met my familiar during a dream where they introduced themselves, and at times, me and my familiar would talk to each other in a dream.

dream incubation: dream incubation is the act of inducing a dream or intending for a specific thing to happen in a dream. this is a practice that had existed in ancient greece and ancient egypt. this can be done through placing a sigil/cartomancy card representing the dream that you want under the pillow you sleep on, affirmations and manifestation, or by talking to an entity and asking them to provide you a specific dream.

as a magical hero, i've witnessed others achieve their goals and be capable of transformation through a dream induced via dream incubation. for example, many puella magis performed the contract through a dream where they aren't lucid.

lucid dreaming: lucid dreaming is the act of becoming conscious in a dream where no one would normally be aware in, this can be by accident or intended. and in a lucid dream, you can set up the ambience and atmosphere of a dream into one where you'd be able to perform your ideal rituals, spellwork, or invite specific entities.

earlier, i mentioned how some magical heroes used dream incubation in order to meet their goals of becoming a fully pledged MH, but another alternative to that would be lucid dreaming where you'd be able to invoke the presence of a magical familiar or your transformation device.

astral projection: astral projection is the act of separating your astral body from the physical body. in a state of dreaming, the body is under sleep paralysis and therefore wouldn't be able to resist or react if the astral body separates itself via a dream. you can use the method of lucid dreaming in order to astral project.

i currently have plans on writing tutorial blogs that cover the topics of dream incubation, lucid dreaming, and astral projection, as methods to become a fully pledged magical hero. now that i'm on break from my civilian duties like being a student, i'm hoping that i'll be able to post more! still, i'm happy that i got a chance to ramble about dream work/dream magic because it's something i do a lot.

thank you!

( june 10, 2024 | monday )

50 notes · View notes

dynamites-ao3 · 10 months

Text

An Exigency

Sub-Zero (Bi-Han) x f! Reader

explicit ; 7k words ; post-MK1 ending, aphrodisiac-addled pwp

Tasked to investigate Shang Tsung’s laboratory for his whereabouts, you find you are not alone in the endeavour. You should have known better.

Or, a mission goes awry.

read here on ao3! or read under the cut.

(a/n: forewarning for nonconsensual elements.)

You had not spoken aloud since you left the city gates.

It was silence borne out of practicality for the most part - not only were you traveling alone but the persisting heat had willed you to preserve your breath. Though it had gotten better once you passed the stretch of desert, the forest’s humidity was no less a pain.

Should this be all a test of your flesh and spirit, it is certainly an arduous one. Every so often, sweat trickles into your stinging eyes. You check and re-check your pack every hour, even if you hadn’t touched it since. Your blinks are slower, or maybe it just feels that way.

At any rate by the time you reach the laboratory, a dark mar in the idle forest, your mind is far away, dreaming of chalices of ice-cold water; and fully, entirely unable to appreciate the vast land you’ve trekked under the order of Lord Liu Kang.

Only now does it strike you: you should have asked him to create a portal. It would have been so aggravatingly easy.

And you’re only half-lucid when you finish securing its perimeters. It’s more of a tedious affair than you anticipated but for what it was worth, you’re content in doing it by yourself. You all but rush in once you were confident there hadn’t been any indication that a certain sorcerer had come back for his supplies.

Shang Tsung’s laboratory, entirely deserted, exists like a picture: it possessed still the facade of a living machine, but the absence of its quasi-scientist owner kept it frozen in time. Had you not known any better, you could easily imagine in your mind’s eye someone returning for their scribbled notes at any given second. You had to concede that Shang Tsung maintained the upper floors with impressive care, no matter its artificiality.

And for all that you endured out in the elements - best yet, the room feels like paradise on your skin. Cool, dry air, if a bit dusty. If you just ignored the sharp chemical odor that also pervaded the room, the sensation was almost entirely pleasant.

Where the smell originated, you were unsure: there were innumerable flasks on the wall shelves that contained liquid behind its amber glass.

Curious, you lean over the desk and flick absentmindedly at a plugged flask with a half-gaseous, half-liquid residue in it, watching the dark particles convect up the neck. Lord Liu Kang ought to have sent a scholar, you think: they’d know how to separate the valuable information from the drivel.

Even an imperial mage would be familiar with some of this writing scattered across the table. Still, with the discord done unto the Shirai Ryu and disappearance of Shang Tsung’s allies, having to outsource in other measures was a fair choice to make - just not one you would have made.

With your head lowered, you take stock of the papers, taking any that looked of import and folding them away into your pack on the ground. This carries on until goosebumps crop up on your arms, a particularly chilling wind sailing up your skin. The room had sapped all warmth from your body.

You almost don’t even realise the atmosphere has changed, the air growing heavier: only when you pull back far enough to witness your visible breath wisp into the air.

Not merely sheltered from the blistering heat outside any longer -

You’re cold.

In a matter of milliseconds, you turn your cheek and something sings through the air right over the bridge of your nose, freezing your eyelashes. It drives right through the window, leaving a splintered hole in the glass pane in the wake.

Your body moves on instinct, rolling to the side. You keep from flinching even as a shard of glass - or was it ice? - scrapes your cheekbone.

You hold a gasp back in your mouth, willing the stinging to subside. By the stairs, an approaching silhouette sharpens against the cloud of pale frost. You’re slowed down by shock, disbelieving in your sight.

He shouldn’t be here, not in Outerrealm. Well, you think miserably. Lord Liu Kang isn’t going to like hearing about this encounter. That is, if you survive it.

“Stand down,” Sub-Zero barks, a guttural demand cutting through the air. In his palm he draws together another stake. It comes together with a splintering crunch, like the collapse of hard plastic.

It doesn’t make sense - you’re unsure what sorcery, what technology he’s equipped to sneak into this realm without alerting the empire. Though you don’t have time to hypothesise on this as he draws his arm back and jets the projectile your way. You push away from the desks and onto your knees, tucking in your shoulder just in time for the frozen stake to pierce through wood to your left, embedding in a drawer.

Your breath is bedraggled, the frozen air hard on your lungs. Still, you ask, “Where is Shang Tsung? Earthrealm?”

Sub-Zero’s eyebrows come together; you can easily imagine a snarl under his mask. “Like I’d tell you even if I knew.”

If he knew?

He hadn’t seemed concerned with divulging this, which demanded further questions. If he knew not of Shang Tsung’s location and spoke truthfully, then it was clear he had the same objective as you here. Before you could act on this understanding, his gaze slides away, focused on something on the ground. You follow its trajectory, dread burrowing in your stomach when you realise he’s looking towards your pack where you’ve tucked away the majority of Shang Tsung’s discarded notes. Half-open, loose corners of scrolls peek out the top.

Under no circumstances were the Lin Kuei to possess those. Should there be something important, you couldn’t even fathom how Sub-Zero might exploit it for his own ambitions.

Forcing yourself to your feet, you manage to utter, “Fine. But there is nothing here for you. Leave!”

He doesn’t turn his head but his dark gaze flits back to you. You refuse to let yourself be intimidated by his vitriol - you are better than that. Although you’ve once before met Sub-Zero and his brother in the capital, you doubt any familiarity would give you a boon to this encounter. It was better that he did not recognise you, even, as it would make subduing him all the more professional.

You can only hope you are choosing correctly to not kill him outright, for that ought to be the choice of the Shirai Ryu. He doesn’t seem to be so self-limiting however, what with the way his hands twitch. It was clear now if it hadn’t been before: he was not to let you leave alive and with your stolen intel.

“You dare tell me what to do?” he says, rounding on you.

You warn, “They will stop at nothing to capture you.”

“They? Of whom do you speak - the empress or Liu Kang? Both?” He makes a condescending noise, a wisp of pale breath seeping out his mask. “You’re a lackey of theirs. Of course.”

You exhale low. You need only to grab your pack and make it down the stairs past him. You were positive you could shake him in the forest, even if he had stationed more of his assassins around the building.

“You’re a fool,” he is saying but you are only half-listening, mind racing in a multitude of directions. You could afford a fight, one that would only impede him but it would not be feasible in this space given your arsenal.

Leaving without one would, of course, be ideal but it seemed almost exponentially worse to be later ambushed in the scorching outdoors.

Perhaps you should not have come alone, after all. It’s too late now. Over the course of your perusals, you’ve familiarised yourself with your surroundings, which were really full of unidentifiable baubles. Any real weapon was out of reach from where you stood, and you’d do anything to avoid touching the various scalpels on the desk - gods know where they’ve been.

Your options were whittled down to pure martial arts - which was fine, really. But you could appreciate an advantage. So you don’t think too hard at what exactly you’re grabbing as you lean back, fingers in search of something sizeable.

They clutch around a smooth glass bottle neck that feels somewhat heavy, as though partially filled with something, and the choice is made for you.

The bottle is an amber blur in the air once it leaves your hand. With a narrow arch, you swing a rogue bottle aimed at his head, in dire hopes it would combust grand enough for you to flee.

As it turns out, nothing of the sort happens. Of course not.

With an unnatural deftness, Sub-Zero crosses his forearms, steeling them in ice just as the bottle makes impact. Though the glass explodes, it is hardly to the extent you would have liked. They merely drop in shards to the ground by his feet, nary a cut made. A viscous and inky liquid concurrently splatters his gauntlets and across his face, not even enough to blind him. He grunts.

Gasoline? It didn’t seem likely, as you would have smelt its pungency if it was. Unfortunate, of course. Lighting him on fire would certainly be a fast solution to this problem.

For a moment, Sub-Zero stills. He wipes a droplet from above his brow and inspects the dark stain between his fingertips; when nothing happens, he growls, snapping back to you.

“Pathetic,” he spits out, seething.

Sub-Zero launches himself at you. On the defensive, you slip out the way, narrowly missing the sheet of ice that would have trapped you in place behind you. You prowl one another in a circle. You’ve angered him and you could only hope this would make him sloppy.

As you soon discover, he is terribly ferocious. A performance befitting a clan grandmaster. You spend most of the engagement on the defensive, narrowly avoiding being split in half by axes and maces. Every time an ice-formed weapon swipes by your head, needles of ice spray you, buffeting your skin painfully.

No longer than a few minutes in, you think you should just go ahead and kill him after all. Jumping around like this only serves to tire you out. The blade you carry burns where you’ve hidden it in your jacket uniform. You surge forward, not yet unsheathing it as to surprise him, but your boots skid.

What - ?

When had he frozen the ground…?

You miss your mark by what must have been a finger’s width, your energy spent on balancing yourself instead. As you grapple for that stability, he closes the distance.

With one large hand on the base of your throat, you are brought hard to the ground, pretty much thrown. You wince when the back of your skull taps the rug below you but that is hardly a concern with the weight on your entire body, Sub-Zero boxing you in from above.

He is everywhere and all that you can see, his large body hovering yours and his sash dropping onto your torso.

The metal of his gauntlets are streaked with the unidentifiable dark liquid and it smears you below the chin, cold and wet like blood.

Out of sight, one of his knees dig painfully into your thigh but you do not allow him a single cry of pain. Spots dance in your vision and although the pressure on the sides of your throat grows, fogging your brain, he isn’t putting in nearly enough to end you. When you wheeze, you barely feel it pass through your lips.

It is a despicable move. You thought him merciless, indeed, but you hadn’t thought him cruel. You grab at his wrist, staunchly attempting to pull him off but with gravity on his side, it was a near futile effort. He watches with acuteness as your chest lifts and drops unevenly. “Get off,” you grit out.

He leans so close you could see his blown-out pupils quivering. Then, he speaks.

“I know you.”

For a flash, you tense. “No,” you say. “But I know you.”

“Liar.”

Unblinking and unfazed, he lifts his free hand and in one rough motion, rips off your mask. He throws it to the side, not bothering to look at where it lands and immediately you scowl.

His eyes thin - you realise he’s strangely humoured and sneering.

“How dare you,” you say.

Though he doesn’t seem to hear you, his gaze is concentrated on your mouth. “I knew it. One of Liu Kang’s lapdogs from the academy. How honoured you must feel, to be sent on a suicide mission by him.”

There is nothing to be gained in entertaining his goading. Still, something inflates inside you. “He’s done nothing of the sort. His rule is just.”

“You must mean restrictive.”

“You will not blame your greed for power on him!”

He blinks at your anger, his visage relaxing ever so slightly though no less blazing. “Your fealty is commendable,” he says. “How did he train you?”

“Fuck you.” Like a dance, you lift forward and he shoves your shoulder back against the floor harshly.

“What do you anticipate as a reward, should you return successfully?” he asks, ignoring you. “Acknowledgement, praise? That he’ll tell you ‘good work’ and bend you over the nearest table?”

The image is so violently crass, you shudder. His eyes glitter, delighting in your discomfort. The mouth on this man - if you could move, you had half the mind to sock him in the jaw as hard as you could.

It’s hard to believe that someone this provoking was once a close confidante to Lord Liu Kang. And having only ever met Sub-Zero during conferences with Lord Liu Kang present, you felt appalled just hearing this vulgarity uttered with little fanfare. Unexpected was an understatement.

Mind games! Mind games, of which you never thought him capable.

You grimace, glaring up at him through your eyelashes. “I suggest you keep your fantasies to yourself, unless you speak from experience.”

A dark scoff leaves him before it is cut out abruptly. All of sudden, Sub-Zero blinks and breaks eye contact, dipping his head to the side and although you’re unsure what he is looking at exactly, you don’t care to enquire.

At a glacially-slow pace, you try to wiggle free the fabric of your pants from where he kneeled. As soon as you could bring your own knee up, you would have leverage for a number of things that could put distance between you and him. To distract him from your legs, you continue to claw at his arm. “What is this wait, Sub-Zero? Are you going to kill me or what?”

A deep crease forms between his eyebrows as he regains his focus. “You,” he mutters accusatively. “You did something to me.”

You frown. “What?”

He makes another low noise that you vaguely register as a chuckle. “You monks are all the same, convinced your training gives you supreme dominion over the body. Wrong, of course. The Lin Kuei will still best you in that respect, as with all.”

“Your pride will be your clan’s downfall.”

“Wrong, again. And your little distractions are child’s play.”

Then, Sub-Zero looks down. As best you could, you follow the trajectory to your own fidgeting legs. He knows. The window to react and wiggle free shrinks into nothing but before you can plan contingently, he moves.

Without warning, the knee that was on your thigh lifts - and nestles hard instead right in the apex of your legs.

It’s like all the air leaves your chest in one fell swoop.

This time, you do groan aloud, noises vibrating under his palm. And, worst of all, it is a shameful sound, mortifyingly loud in the spacious room and ringing in your own ears. Oh, gods. Your eyes snap open, the unexpected pressure not excruciating but stimulating, enough to have you jolting out of your skin.

It must be an accident, because there is no way, no reason why Sub-Zero should be threatening you like this. It must be - isn’t it?

Dumbfounded beyond belief, you go slack; it no longer figured a good idea to knee him in the crotch. For the first time, you look at him directly and see beyond his feverish eyes and the streaks of black residue flecked across his skin from the liquid you threw. In fact, you find his ears are flushed pink, and have been pink for some time now.

Something inside you awakens. “What - what the hell do you think you’re doing?” you snap, now scrambling on the floor with a renewed determination. Arching your back to put some distance between his legs and yours comes at a terrible price: your chest lifts up to his. Sub-Zero, fully cognisant of the motion, says nothing. “Unhand me!”

“Had you been smarter and stood down when I ordered it, none of this would be necessary,” he tells you.

You found yourself baring your teeth. “I will not be humiliated by you.”

This captures his attention in particular, his gaze morphing and settling into something indescribable. For a beat, you could almost consider it something as gentle as curiosity - then, it disappears as quickly as it came.

In a cool voice, he says, “Look at me.”

When you ignore him, the pressure on your throat disappears, replaced by a new force on your jaw. His hand from under your chin yanks your head straight. The hand holding your wrists down tightens its grasp.

“Look at me,” he repeats. He grinds his knee between your legs again, this time with malicious purpose.

Be it distress or arousal mounting in your flesh, a soft gasp escapes your mouth. You’re desperate for relief and with him getting you this far but then stopping, you had to take measures into your own hands. Your hips roll against him and you’re only vaguely aware of your body moving, as if you aren’t even in control anymore. You drag yourself on his leg once more and for what it’s worth, you appreciate him staying so still.

There’s a pause, before -

“Humiliate?” he echoes you, intonation unbearably slow. “I could not humiliate you any more than you have already done to yourself.”

You can say nothing in protest. Your insides thrum, wanting to come so badly they ache. You should feel terrible, having debased yourself with an enemy but your brain is too hazy to think ethically. What a descent you watched yourself fall into.

You were not in control of yourself, that much you could deduce for yourself. It ought to take much more than this to distract you and yet -

When his hands relaxed, affording you space, you still had not shoved him square in the chest even though it would have been so easy. Something was terribly wrong with you. You should gut him alive for what he’s done to you.

Nonplussed, Sub-Zero rearranges himself on top of you, pulling his knees in and sitting straddle on your leg. He rests on one forearm parallel to the floor as the other arm trails down your abdomen.

The cold leather and metal of his gauntlets slip under your hem and you are much too aware of how his fingers dig into your flesh, groping and demanding. What should feel brutalising and repugnant is instead entrancing. There is nothing else to think about from below him, because if it wasn’t his touch you concentrated on it would have been his equally penetrative gaze that which never leaves your face.

Every soft shift in your expression is noticed, internalised, and responded to accordingly. When his rough fingertips find the swell of your breasts, your diaphragm unsteadies and there is no way he does not feel the tightening of your stomach under the skin. He rolls your nipple under a callused thumb until it hardens, your bra shoved aside. Nothing you do is unseen.

For once, he says nothing grating but that is hardly a relief - you can feel his domination over your flesh and spirit through physical means alone.

It was impossible to avert your eyes from the truth: you were letting him take control of you.

Your weakness was worthy of condemnation. The odes you chanted at the academy - limiting yourself from carnal pleasures in the pursuit of the ethereal - were as solid as steam slipping through your fingers. As Sub-Zero touched you, the heat of his palm skimming up and down your navel, you could not cohesively pull any dictum of asceticism into the forefront of your mind. You need not absolute chastity, but even a modicum of self-preservation for your own pride was adequate enough to absolve your acts, present or those soon to come.

As it were, you possessed neither. Something else entirely was unfurling inside you, ravenous and anxious, encouraging you devilishly to deplete yourself.

As though somehow able to hear your internal conflict, Sub-Zero speaks. “It is a fool’s errand to deny one’s truths,” he calmly says.

Truths? What truths? His affliction had spread to you and he was blaming you for it. Mindless carnality was not in your nature, and if it wasn’t his, then you had… then you had unwittingly poisoned yourself. And him.

You grimace, thinking he is trying to assuage you in your position, console you through your own guilty arousal. “There must be another way,” you say, but then he sighs through his nose and his palm grows ice-cold in a flash. Pushing under your waistband, he cups your mound and you gasp, the frigid sensation sparking up your spine.

“Fuck!” you hiss, splaying a hand on his chest and pushing but there is no force. Your other hand comes around his wrist; he doesn’t budge. Rather, his fingertips press in-between your folds, testing your limits.

“What were you saying,” he says although the edge in his voice indicates it is rhetorical.

Your face scrunches as he continues to pet you. You begin to throb painfully, anticipating being properly filled. “Stop that. You’re going to - ”

“Give you frostbite? No. There would be no point in that,” he says, flatly and hardly convincing, “I still want you to feel me.”

He didn’t seem to care about breaking you off necessarily but rather in pursuing his own pleasure, he liked making you squirm in obscene desperation.

His solid metal gauntlets press against your front as his exploratory hand slips further between your thighs. Though you’ve clamped your knees together, his own movements don’t seem impeded; you gasp for the second time, grasping the air, as he enters two cold fingers into you and pushes against your walls.

It is a strange sensation. You loathe it and yet you’re so wet, so much so that he takes off his gauntlets intermittently before returning. When he cupped you again, your hips rolled for him, lifting off the floor. It’s so lowly of you, to be done in by an erotic touch.

As with yours, his patience seemed to be thinning.

You blink and his fingers are hooked at your waistband, pulling your pants and underwear to your knees; you blink again and his weight disappears. On his haunches before you, you watch in silence - voyeuristically - as he pries loose his sash, his own pleated pants sliding halfway down to his solid thighs. Although the front of his outer jacket fell long enough that it covered his front, even the slightest sight of his exposed body made you shiver.

By now, the drug had dried on your skin; it came off in flecks as you rubbed your chin. “What the hell?” you mutter drunkenly, only half able to focus. The other half went into spectation, making certain he didn’t make any sudden moves. For this reason, you could not be sure whether the tingling you felt was real or not.

You try to vocalise this to Sub-Zero, who was splashed much more heavily than you, but he wasn’t listening. “The bottle… I think - ”

“Shut up. Move.”

Although he’s the one who put forth the command, he decidedly manipulates your body himself. Without so much another word, he puts you on your stomach, your bare thighs against the rough floor rug. You don’t fight back because… well, why don’t you fight back, actually? Cognisant of your own compliancy, this question stumps you.

Astride your legs, you feel the heaviness of his cock prod your skin. With one hand, Sub-Zero spreads your cheeks apart and guides himself into the cleft with his other. There are no warnings besides a husky sigh when he broaches you, the head of his cock stretching you out so luxuriantly. Mercilessly, he drives into you half-way and the speedy intrusion rips a filthy moan from your mouth.

Pragmatically, you know you should feel some discomfort by nature of anatomy at least - but none of that is a reality for now. He slides the rest of the way in snug, hips flush against your backside, arms straight supporting himself on either side of you. You are so wet that all you feel is full.

You almost wished it was painful, especially when he begins to move, inching his pelvis away from your rear and coming close to pulling out entirely but it really never does. It’s a disquieting revelation.

If it were painful, you would have reason to rue this entire encounter as a nightmare. Worse, you’ve never felt so comfortable in your life, with your forearms on the hard ground and being taken by a man who has half the mind to kill you after this.

“Fuck,” he says, dragging out the syllable. You had to agree with the sentiment.

He gives a few perfunctory thrusts before finding a sustainable rhythm. The carefulness he exhibits dissipates into thin air once he does, his first real thrust almost pushing your body forward by sheer force alone. It knocks the air out of you and you wiggle to establish yourself against the rug.

Apparently frustrated by your sliding forward, you feel large hands shove your shoulders down, smushing your cheek against the rug. You breathe hard through your nose, eyes rolling back in your skull.

Distantly, you hear a clatter of something hitting the ground in a haphazard fashion. Before you toss a look to the side, cold fingers find themselves back on the developing bruises on your neck, twisting your head back to look up at Sub-Zero instead. You only have a second to register that he has removed his mask before he compels you to his mouth.

As per his disposition, his kiss is equally as vicious; he does not let up until you’re dizzy and spent. It’s an awkward angle too, given his large stature, making you feel you’re about to drool out the corner of your mouth. You expected no less.

And he must have done something especially delirious to you because as he draws away, you find yourself already wanting him back, to violate you in every which way he could. He smells of incense and his stubble ghosts you. It is not enough to just feel Sub-Zero pulse inside you, you need to hear his faint huffs by your ear, to feel his tongue against yours -

“This is your doing,” he says, ticklish breath against your nape. He inhales deeply, his cold nose against your sensitive skin. “What was in that fluid?”

“I don’t know,” you cry out. So he was already aware. Then why did it feel like you were the only one objecting to its lures?

“More lies. You wanted this. For me to take you like a bitch in heat.”

“I didn’t know. I don’t know. If I did, this would never - I would never have… it’s affecting me, too - ”

He pulls off your backside, dragging his cock out. It slides onto your back thigh, leaving a wet glaze. “Turn over,” he demands, putting a hand on your hip and squeezing hard.

You do so because there is no alternative. Carefully and inspite of your lightheadedness, you roll onto your back, knees bent and shoes flat against the ground. He pragmatically removes one of your pant legs entirely off you, leaving the other still hanging, and it’s such a desperate, heated scrabble to get you further out of your clothes that at once, your heart quivers in your chest.

Unexpectedly, you find then that he doesn’t crawl on top to take you vis-a-vis this time, but rather he yanks you forward into his lap, your centre of balance going utterly wayside. You take his collar in fistfuls to counter the inertia. You see your reflection in the shine of his eyes and it is almost too intimate for you to handle.

“You wanted this,” he repeats. “So take it.”

In his lap and resting against your stomach is his erection, wet and shiny and flushed. It does not take a scholar to know what he wants - what you want. You swallow, and draw in.

His breathing is all you can hear as your hands spread out on his broad chest, sliding down. Two fingers hook at the junction point of his jacket and shakily, you pull it open. When he doesn’t move to stop you - or do anything for that matter - you undo the knots to his inner jackets as well. The jacket sides fall naturally to the sides, exposing his firm chest. He’s warm - you don’t know why that surprises you - and clean-shaven; and as you pass down his abdomen, feeling the jump of hard muscle under your palms, you remember yourself.

It feels almost embarrassing to appreciate his body, especially so since you were still covered up fully from the waist-up. Now, with him more exposed as well below you, odd emotions were in order, none of which you cared to examine.

You tear your hands away, missing the heat all the same. His heavy gaze on you doesn’t fetter. Still, at this point you were existing on borrowed time. You lift yourself on your knees and with a breath tampered in your lungs, you guide yourself down on him.

You watch him as he watches his cock disappear into you, his expression tight. There is a muscle visibly twitching in his jaw and though his palms are flat against the floor for support, his fingers are ever-roving and flexed, a moment away from grabbing your waist and taking lead. You settle onto him, the blunt head of his cock easing into you with a satisfying pressure.

“Go ahead,” he says - or rather, commands, with a razor-like edge of competition. “Get yourself off.”

The remark is so unnatural you inadvertently shoot him a bewildered look. It was difficult to take it face value, after all: you had no capacity to believe he meant it charitably. But when he counters your bewilderment with a subtle lift of an eyebrow, inciting you to question him aloud, you end up backing off.

You don’t need to be asked twice. An orgasm to rebalance your hormones that were thrown off by that drug seemed logical in any case, but before you even get to moving, he hums, his head tilted to the side, the expanse of his throat appearing particularly inviting.

“What?” you have to ask, bracing yourself in suspicion.

“You listen so well.” He purses his lips, clearly in mock-thought of what to say next, before, “Liu Kang wastes your talents.”

Your whole face flushes at the insulting implication that doing this was your talent. But what should take you right out of the mood, has you instead clenching down around him, agitation channeled elsewhere. The sudden pressure makes him grunt, a hand pulling forward to clutch your waist.

“I am no more in control than you are,” you say and you lift yourself on your knees. His cock drags slipperily against your walls.

Even so, riding him is no easy feat.

The angle forces you to take his full length every time you lower and though his thick legs cushion you, you have an inkling that he presses right up to your cervix. It doesn’t hurt thankfully but it feels a lot, certainly much more than before. You think he’s probably getting more out of this than you given the flashes of unsteadiness that cross his face when you least expect it, until you roll your hips at a different angle and it makes your calves tremble, to the extent your hands whip out and land on his shoulders for support.

You take one hand off and slide it down your front, resting at the crux of your legs. You’re close now, and you’re convinced that a little attention towards your clit will get you the rest of the way there. Abruptly then, he smacks the back of your hand away, the lasting prickles of pain on your knuckles startling you.

“No,” Sub-Zero says. “Don’t you fucking touch yourself.” You glare at him, having no interest in complying. But, almost like consolation, he raises his hips and claps against you in perfect tandem as you’re coming down. You pull your hand away, albeit begrudgingly.

His energetic thrusts back… it helps round off the ache, a little, you must admit. You possess a perfect view of his core muscles flexing every time your pelvises connect; it is impossible to not be in awe of his stamina.

You fear that it is this notion, the recognition of his pure strength and endurance, that eventually turns erotic for you. A tension builds in your lower stomach, all endeavours pointed to quelling the heat. You’re pawing him, entranced and stupefied, when you exert the last of your might to will his hips to a standstill.

Resting your full weight on his lap and rocking back-and-forth gently, you come powerfully. Your toes curl at the full-body sensation that tickles every nerve; even he cannot deny himself a ragged groan upon feeling your convulsions wrap around him, contracting and vibrating on his cock.

He shifts under you, and you let him remove the rest of your uniform, tossing it somewhere to the side. He wraps a thick arm around your waist, dragging you flush against him. You wriggle, grimacing, his cock still rigid inside you. Without much effort at all, he tucks his legs under himself, forcing you to anchor yourself with hands linked behind his neck lest risk falling backwards. It brings your faces closer together than anticipated and as you try again to find your footing and weasel out, his arm tightens.

His opposite hand grips your ass, rooting you to him as deeply as possible. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growls by your temple. “I didn’t say we were done.”

You don’t get an opportunity to bemoan, still twitching in his lap. It should be both impressive and frightening, how quickly he pins you down exactly where he wants you, but you’re too dazed to appreciate it. You loosely hang off him as he crushes you, chest to chest, your soft breasts against his pecs, your hands on his nape and neck. Where you and him are still connected is a complete and utter wet mess, fluids running down the cleft of your ass and onto the damp rug beneath. Every slap of skin has a sticky noise following in its immediate wake.

His head ducks into the corner between your shoulder and neck. With your chin beside his hair, you inhale the scent of warm, clean incense. You get the debilitating thought that this isn’t so bad. It’s not great either, given the circumstances, but after a while, his barraging into you was a pleasant sting.

You found you did want him to orgasm, with haste - genuinely. Just as you were beginning to think he was being predictable, Sub-Zero skates his teeth on your shoulder and bites, earning himself a cry. You don’t think much of it until he laves his tongue on the bite mark, and it actually stings - he must have drawn blood.

You lose it a little more this time.

“Oh, gods,” you begin to plead, your voice so strangled and wimpish it’s hard to believe it’s coming from you, “I can’t…”

His scoff is warm against your collarbone. Sub-Zero lifts his head: his hair is messy, his bun coming undone; several long locks of stray hair now spill over his eyes. “Yes, you can,” he says. “Open your mouth.” He draws away and your lips part, unthinkingly but so very obediently.

Stilling ever so briefly, he spits into your mouth and your eyes widen, unable to process the sheer depravity of what he’d done. It lands squarely on your tongue and under his heavy-lidded anticipation, you swallow. It reminds you that this - the pain, the domineering, the humiliation - is all for him now; you already got your orgasm.

It gets him closer, you can tell from the way his hips speed up, deep strokes reduced to pumps, though with still enough force to ripple the flesh of your thighs. In a way, it does help - if you could handle something as vile as that, why, what couldn’t you handle?

But toleration and voluntariness were two different functional spheres entirely. Part of you thinks you would have preferred an outright fight, because then the victor and the loser would be clearly defined. Being orgasm-wrung and panting on the floor, you could constitute yourself as neither.

Thoroughly robbed of any remaining decorum, you chase after his mouth hotly, groaning into him. Sub-Zero adapts to your strain of desperation, hands planted on the sides of your face to keep you from ever wriggling away before he allows it. And yet his kiss is a respite, ridiculously enough, from how he is making you ache below.

Your hands run along his bulging triceps, stroking him almost affectionately. Your core was growing tight again and the feeling grew no matter how you tried to suppress it. “I need to… I need…” So muddled, you don’t think your words are even coherent.

Unable to restrain yourself any longer, you convulse around him for the second time. Pleasure buzzes in your chest, spreading in every direction.

“Coming again?” he huffs. “I thought your type - ngh - valued self-discipline.” The gait of his taunt is erratic, clearly moved by your sudden tightness.

“It’s the drug,” you counter, but you don’t believe that at all. No, this must be all you now.

He does not deign to reply, because right then he tenses - and you felt a liquid heat begin to pool inside you. It registers too belatedly that you should have said something earlier to stop him from ejaculating inside. It rests heavy in you, real evidence of what you’ve done if the scatter of bruises up and down your body wasn’t a sign enough. He pumps in small oscillating movements until you’ve milked him completely and you lay there, stunned and in resignation.

He sighs again, deep and low, more of a rumble than anything else. Sub-Zero blinks languidly, his eyes downcast and for the first time, you see the exertion in his expression. The loose hair that sweeps across his forehead begs to be tucked away but knowing better, you keep your hands to yourself.

Sub-Zero pulls off you unceremoniously, dick soft enough to tuck away into his pants. With every passing second, you drop from your high. In silence you drag yourself into a sitting position, eyes trailing him lazily as he stalks off and without warning rips a hanging red cloth off a stand, so violently it leaves the metal stand wobbling. It’s as large as a body towel. He wipes himself first before rolling it up and tossing it to you, its large golden tassels smacking you in the outer leg.

It is, again, a funny gesture that feels out of place with the rest of his conduct. As you clean yourself with the dry velvet - Shang Tsung’s cloak, seemingly, a fact which you drove yourself to ignore - you had to face the reality of Sub-Zero’s come dripping out of you. Even without contorting yourself, your sopping and battered cunt was obviously the culprit of the dark stain spreading across the rug.

There was, of course, no point in protesting now. And had you said something, you figured without resentment that there was no guarantee he would have listened anyway. Nevertheless, you’ll need to remedy this as soon as possible lest there be undue surprises…

You gather yourself on legs like a newborn faun, teetering until you grasp the edge of the desk, toppling a miniature astrolabe. You shove the stained cloak to the side. Your libido has wicked into almost nothingness for which you had to be relieved, but that did not quell the perceptible imbalance in your energy.

Perhaps the true purpose of that poison was to affect your chi, not your… sexual appetite, after all. It merited further research but too bad the liquid off the floor already evaporated and the bottle itself was unlabeled.

Leaning for support, you redress yourself whilst thinking about your filled womb; it makes you just cringe. Shit. It’s a major inconvenience to now have this on the forefront of your personal concerns and though you hardly had the mind to tell Sub-Zero, the mere thought of him made you faintly aware of how deathly quiet he had become.

You look up. Immediately your adrenaline spikes because he’s not there, not in your line of sight. His mask was no longer where it once was tossed either.

This, in hindsight, is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. You had no intention to rest in any afterglow, but it appeared even a moment to catch your breath was overly-indulgent.

Movement flicks on your left. And you have to blame your fatigue because otherwise you’d beat yourself up about this, because before you know it you hear that familiar crunch of ice coming together and the entire room drops several degrees.

You duck but it is the wrong direction and within a millisecond both your shoes are encased in ice. You lurch, unsteady in the trap.

You exhale. You suppose it was always going to converge back to a tussle, one way or another. But then you spot him kneeling by your pack, invasively filing through what you’ve uncovered, and you’re incensed again. Already having wasted enough time, you snap, “You won’t get away with this, Sub-Zero.”

He lifts the pack by one handle and sends a provoking look your way. “I already have,” he says and you bristle. You’re so stupid for letting your guard down, letting him leave your sight for even a second. The muffle of his mask is not enough to conceal the smarmy condescension oozing out.

Of course, you weren’t expecting him to be romantic, beaming in post-coital bliss, but going back to wanting each other dead so promptly after being drugged up feels dramatically unhinged.

“We need to figure out what that stimulant was,” you say. “You felt what it did to you - what it did to us. This place is dangerous and I have contacts with the Edenians to help us sort through it. I just need… you to hand that bag over.”

You think it’s convincing enough because it’s true. Like hell you’d ever want to be caught up in a position like that, being splashed by liquid that had the ability to strip you of your chi and basic self-control.

“Come on,” you insist, more aggrieved than ever before, “you were just induced into having sex with a complete stranger. Shouldn’t you be more worried?”

Sub-Zero pauses, smoothing his hair back with the heel of his palm. Somehow in that short span of time, he’d managed to equip all his gear back sublimely. This fact only aggravates you further. “Hm. I didn’t expect you to think so lowly of yourself.”

“You cannot be serious - ”

Then, like a gut punch to cap-end the entire affair, he interrupts, “Should you want this back, you know where to find me.”

No. No, no, no.

It’s the last thing he bothers saying. None of your angry shouts purportedly get to him, even as he vanishes down the stairs and although your backup knife is miserably tiny, it’s the only one you have on-hand. At a loss, you bend your knees and start chipping away the ice.

The upside, you find, is that the ice is very hard: it provides for you an exercise in releasing your stress by hacking into it without holding back. The downside, equally, was that it was very hard, so hard it would seemingly take you ages to free yourself.

Shards of brittle ice spit up from where you stab. Your body trembles; your face is so flushed that you’re surprised the ice hadn’t already melted under the spotlight of your anger and embarrassment.

You’ve scarcely a desire to enter Earthrealm, and certainly none in hurtling towards a viper’s den like a Lin Kuei stronghold, but -

You also cannot go back to Sun Do empty-handed.

What would you even say to Lord Liu Kang when he requests your report? Should you even mention Sub-Zero? You’re sick to the stomach at the mere thought of having let Lord Liu Kang down so gravely… your fretting was giving you a headache.

It did not help that you were already dehydrated the moment you stepped inside the building.

Pinched between your thumb and forefinger, you break off a small chunk of ice and place it on your tongue. It’s so brilliantly cold it practically burns. As you wait for it to melt into water by sucking gently, you try very, very hard to not think about how the cold felt on the rest of your body.

For what it’s worth, you almost do succeed.

#subzero x reader #bihan x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 x reader #dynamites writes

145 notes · View notes

moderator-monnie · 9 months

Text

The Awakening (A COTH Story)

Eggman suddenly jolted 'awake' or what can be described as awake; his body was sleeping yet he found himself aware of his surroundings. It was like a lucid dream; he knew exactly what he was doing before he got here and how he got here.

The place was a completely black void, and for the most part, it seemed to be covered in a white mist, with a few specs of what looked like stars but not many—not enough to create much light but enough to be seen here and there.

"Truly a marvelous place, though I expected a dream god to have something a bit more... Imaginative, I won't lie, but I digress best not to judge the god before I get to meet it."

He just started to walk through the void, being careful about his steps. The further he walked, the darker it got—darker, darker yet darker—it became more void-like as he went along. At first, he found it interesting, but the further he went, no matter what direction, he wasn't finding anything.

Eggman found himself starting to get annoyed, and when he turned around, the white mist and stars were no longer there, which confused the doctor, but seeing he was making no progress, he huffed and puffed loudly.

"ALRIGHT, WHERE IS THIS DAMNED GOD? THIS PLACE HAS NO VISIBLE LANDMARKS, AND I CAN'T EVEN SEE WHERE I'M GOING. I'M A DOCTOR WHO'S QUITE BUSY! I KNOW I'M WHERE I NEED TO BE, SO WHERE IS ZEPPER-"

Just as he was about to continue shouting, suddenly some torches appeared and a large path was created out of nowhere in front of him. Each torch had coloured fire matching the chaos emerald's colours; there was even a cobblestone path. What made the path interesting was that it was carved to look like each stone was the letter 'Z', and as Eggman could see every few feet, there were eyes on the ground.

The eyes all turned to look at him, and Eggman gulped nervously, following the path, making sure not to step on any of the eyes. After a very long walk and torches continuing to appear and brighten the way, there lay a large throne made of solid gold and two statues of sheep with sleeping caps on their heads.

The sheep turned to look at Eggman and began to drool in a purple liquid that even Eggman could smell at a distance; it appeared to be toxic ... but familiar it seemed to be the liquid Eggman had mass produced in chemical plant zone, and soon enough, with the blink of the doctor's eye, the path he followed was completely gone.

Hundred's of eyes suddenly appeared all around him, all staring at him, and the laughter of everyone Eggman had ever met in his life could be heard around him. Then suddenly they all exploded into confetti, and sitting on the throne was the god of dreams itself.

ZEPPERAITH.

Eggman jumped when Zepperaith's head was suddenly just a few feet before his own, Its massive eye staring directly at him, looking almost like it was examining him.

"WOAH! Look at that! A talking egg! I didn't expect to get some breakfast in bed. Boy do you have any idea how rare it is for me to have a proper meal? I mean, not that I really need to eat like you little creatures do. But sometimes I want to be included!"

Eggman gulped and a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. As much as he hated jokes because of one blue pest, he hoped that the god was joking. It wasn't going to ….

Then their head pulled away and spun like a ball being tossed, landing on the shoulders of the god who now was sitting on its throne. A leg crossed over the other and its cheek rested in its hand, the other petting the dripping statue of a sheep beside it.

"So what's a guy like you doing here? Been forever since I've seen anyone 'round these parts. Well, been asleep for a good long time, that's probably why."

An intense anxiety fell over the doctor, that anxious feeling he always had when he was having a bad dream, a bad dream about that blue rodent foiling his plans. He hoped a bit that he would suddenly wake up like this was just a bad dream, but he couldn't, as long as the god knew he was there he couldn't wake up. So much happened at once; he just didn't know how to feel.

He exhaled and bowed his head towards them as a sign of respect. He didn't get onto his hands and knees though, he had to much pride in himself to do that.

"Oh, Im quite sorry to disturb your slumber, Zepperaith the-"

"Oh shut up!" Zepperaith said loudly to cut the doctor off. "That stupid hogwash … " It lifted one of their hands, a crude sock puppet of one of the ancients was on it. Zepperaith moved up and down as they spoke in a voice that was vastly different than its own. Mocking the words that it had heard over and over again. "Oh, we love you, Zepperaith. Please give us good dreams! Let us kiss the ground you walk upon!" It groaned and threw the puppet away.

"I know, I'm great." It said softly. "You really don't need to tell me what I already know. What I want to know is … WHY ARE YOU HERE?" It slammed its fist into the armrest of its throne, the impact making a loud bang.

Eggman flinched a bit when the god slammed it's fist down. He kept staring at them with that continuous anxiety, but two new feelings came over him, confusion … and mild annoyance. This god seemed so intimidating at first, but oddly reminded him of …. Sonic.

Of course, that annoying pest always seems to nuzzle his way into every single one of his plans. Even if he wasn't here at the moment.

He cleared his throat and spoke. "Right, we'll, Zepperaith. My name is-"

"I already know your name." Zepperaith rudely cut him off again. "Just get on with it, egghead."

Eggman's eye twitched. He had to grit his teeth to prevent himself from insulting the god who could easily rip him apart. "Yes, we'll, you see, I performed this ritual to meet you and wake you because I want your help, almighty god of the mind."

Zepperaith looked down at Eggman, rubbing their chin with a finger in curiosity. "Help? You want my help? With what exactly?" It bent forward in its chair, it's single eye narrowing at the doctor.

Eggman stood up, pulled at his collar, fixed his clothes, and cleared his throat.

"Oh, we'll discuss the details later. What I need your help with is dealing with a little … problem of mine. You see, my goals are to make the world a better place for everyone alike! But there's this …. Little … idiotic …blue …. PEST! I-" He cut himself off and looked back up at Zepperaith who had a brow raised to him. He needed to contain his emotions before the actual truth slipped, and he would be done for.

He cleared his throat and composed himself. "My point being. I want peace for the world. But there's been a thorn in my side for all too long, a thorn by the name of Sonic the Hedgehog. With him gone. I can finally fulfill my lifelong dream of creating Eggman Land. And bring joy and peace to the world!" He looked back at the god. "That's what you want, right? Peace? Tranquility?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you go! I wake you up, you take care of Sonic. The perfect plan! You can do whatever you want when the deed is done!"

Zepperaith liked the points the doctor had thrown about, after all, its whole deal was to make people happy. Shame that's what caused it to go to sleep all those years ago. People just don't understand the vision.

But the god knew there was something off about what the man said. It could tell his ego was so thick that they could practically feel it in the room, it was near exhausting. And with that ego, it made Zepperaith suspicious. That maybe what he was saying wasn't actually what he really wanted.

An anxiety came over Eggman again and he grinned nervously as he awaited the god to respond. He stood there as he stared into the endless void of its face, its eye had disappeared while it was silently thinking. The silence around them was deafening. He cleared his throat to get his attention again.

"So? Yes or no?"

Zepperaith made a low hum as it tapped the tips of its fingers together in thought, then it's eye reappeared and opened. "Fine. I don't have anything better to do."

Eggman practically bounced as he clapped his hands. "OHOHOHO! Splendid! I promise you won't regret it!"

The God's lower lid of its eye curled up like an invisible smile. "Oh I bet I won't." It stood up from its throne and moved close to the doctor. "But now if we need to get me out of here, I'll need your help in doing so."

"Ah, yes! Of course!" The doctor paused, he couldn't remember if there was anything else to do to bring the god into the waking world. "Er … what is it?"

The god jutted its hand out to him. "Oh, there's many different ways. But just a handshake would do this time. Think of it as to seal the deal of our partnership."

He hesitated, but Eggman grasped the god's hand and shook it firmly. Then everything disappeared, including the god before him.

"Rise and shine, doctor." He heard its voice.

Eggman awoke and saw the blue sky above him. He sat up and yawned out the tired from himself. He felt so refreshed, he hadn't had a good nights sleep like that in ages. Man, it was true, that god really did wonders.

He got up from his sleeping bag and looked around, he didn't see the god yet, it did say it would be awake soon, just how soon he didn't know. He looked at his hands then pinched himself to make sure he wasn't still asleep, nope. He was awake. And he now has the power of a god on his side.

Eggman cackled loudly into the sky. "NYAHAHAHAHAHA! YES! OHOHO! I DID IT!" He grinned madly and rubbed his hands together. "NOW I WILL FINALLY GET RID OF THAT BLUE NUISANCE ONCE AND FOR ALL! AND WITH A GOD ON MY SIDE, NO ONE WOULD DARE TO OPPOSE ME! I WILL FINALLY BUILD EGGMAN LAND AND RULE THE WORLD OF MY DREAMS!"

The doctor cackled again, but this time he was cut off, as the sky began to fade to a dark crimson colour, turning the world into a deep reddish hue. He looked down and saw the ground in the middle of the halo he slept in turn to pitch black. This was it.

He ran from the halo and watched as he saw the god pull itself up from the ground, and oh, it was massive, maybe as big as perfect chaos was, maybe bigger. It took a deep breath in and exhaled out a sigh, looking out to the world before turning its attention to the doctor.

"OHOHO! This is fantastic!" Eggman laughed. "We can get started right away!"

"Right. To get rid of this Sonic the Hedgehog … " Zepperaith nodded then leaned down to the doctor. "And 'rule the world of my dreams' ... " it repeated the doctors words from before.

Eggman's face went as pale as a ghost. He didn't think the god would have heard him before he appeared. "Uh … I-listen … I … uh … " He stammered as he tried to come up with some excuse. But he was grasped by the gods hand and pulled up to be face to face with it.

"I have to say, good Doctor … You are pretty good at swaying others into your favor. And you are right; I do want the world to be happy! But you are forgetting something … " Its grip tightened around the doctor slightly. It didn't want to crush him, no matter how much it would enjoy that. "I can do that just as easily, by myself."

Eggman was practically trembling in the god's hand, though he tried to hide his obvious fear from it. "Oh, but don't worry, doctor! I am Zepperaith the Dreamer, after all! And I'll make sure you'll have such a pleasant dream. Why, even …. The world of your dreams." It's last worlds sounded ominous and threatening.

And before Eggman could say a word of protest, Zepperaith put a finger onto his forehead and he was out cold. Now in a dream of his own. A dream … A dream full of pure, unbridled agony. Whatever dream the god had given him, it was there to punish him.

Perhaps a little intense of a punishment for the doctor, but Zepperaith didn't care. It hated it when people thought they had the right to trick and use them. It wanted to make the world a better place, and it wouldn't be subjected to such selfish idiocy. Speaking of which …

The doctors body had transformed into some wicked puppet, laying still in the gods open palm, eyes pure white and mouth agape in pure agony. Zepperaith picked him up with his other hand by his jacket and pondered what to do with him now. Certainly it didn't want to use his body for whatever it had planned, it didn't want to look at this selfish man anymore.

So, Zepperaith hung the doctor onto some strings that reached down from the abyss of the sky, pulling down on him before letting go and he shot up and disappeared into the sky above. Now, to business'.

It bent down and picked up its halo from the ground, dusting it off before putting it around its own head. Taking a second to adjust it to sit right. It needed to look nice for these people after all.

"Well, looks like I have my work cut out for me if that imbecile was of any note." It snorted. "PAH! Please, if someone like him could cause harm, then these people need my help more than anything."

It laughed to itself in amusement, but then it trailed off when it saw one of the feathers from its wings fall off and disintegrate into mist. It let out a noise of disappointment. "Already? Hmm … guess that took more out of me than I thought … "

It tilted its head, a small city was just barely visible across the horizon. A perfect place to look around and see what has been going on since it was put to rest, as well as find something more suitable for its figure.

And so the god moved. It brought itself out of the crater and into the forest that surrounded it, eyes pinpointed to the city ahead. It's halo gently bouncing against its head with its movements and its wings draped behind it like a large cloak, feathers plucking off every few minutes and turning to mist.

Maybe that Sonic the Hedgehog would be a good help. Yes. It just had to find him first.

#Curse Of The Hedgehog AU #COTH AU #Sonic The Hedgehog #STH #Sonic Horror AU #Story #Dr. Eggman #long post #Zepperaith #Zepperaith The Dream God #the awakening is here #this story is a combination of me and weirdoz writing #I wrote the original story and weirdoz rewrote way over half of it #this is honestly my favorite story of all the ones we've done for COTH #because it's both me and weirdoz coming together to write it!#I'm so proud of this story #Zepperaith is such a silly yet intimidating antagonist

121 notes · View notes

ivesambrose · 2 years

Text

2023 𝓜𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 🫧

1. 2.

3. 4.

HAPPY NEW YEAR and my new year gift to you all. You thought I'd forget huh? 😉

Choose the gif / gifs you feel intuitively pulled towards the most ✨

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected] with your name and query 🌙

Services offered

Winter & new years readings

Feedback

Thank you for the tip 🌹

Gif 1

Themes :

Expansion, learning and exploration.

Messages :

You'll be feeling a lot more youthful and playful compared to the previous months. Like you've been serious and taking things to heart for so long and feeling like Eustace Bagge from Courage the cowardly dog most of the time but now you feel more like Bugs Bunny. This is the best analogy I can give.

Its your turn to inspire the people around you or those who get to meet you this year.

Some of you might pick up cooking as a hobby or profession or would want to start experimenting with recipes at home or better eating in general instead of eating out.

You'll be showered with compliments a lot this year so if anyone tries to dull your shine you know it's irrelevant.

You'll have some decisions to make in terms of career / study opportunities and you will feel indecisive at first as to which is the better option but trust in yourself to choose the best one.

You'll be getting out more or would simply be on your way to something that leads to a lot of financial bliss.

Things will take off soon and suddenly maybe even sudden travel plans and receiving everything at once that might seem overwhelming and you might get anticipation anxiety, certain jitters or just worrying about what's ahead or even improper sleep. But things will be alright. Keep your focus on the bigger picture.

Make that vision board for the love of God.

Romantically you'll have really high standards. Yet I see you nitpicking yourself. Stop that! (pretty please) I do see you being offered love by someone head over heels for you but you'll take your time opening up and be fixated on yourself and your goals for the most part so perhaps a slow burn in that department or you'll just relish in finding a sense of yourself and the career you've always wanted this year.

Gif 2

Themes :

Dreams, imagination, subconscious, spirituality.

Messages :

You'll be focused on the positive and positive only. Seeing things in your favour. Feeling more optimistic, manifesting friends with the same mindset and in turn finding more clarity. I see that some of you have literally put your foot down and decided that, "nope. Show me how good it can get."

You've matured so much and are at this point rather unfazed by the ups and downs life throws at you. You've always made or will be making peace with yourself. That you don't need to plaster a label on your personality and niche yourself down to be more palatable. You're a mix and match of several things and that's perfectly okay.

You may inherent some wealth. Some of you might move to a new house or redecorate your house in a way you've always wanted. You'll feel like you've achieved something tangible this year that you're really proud of.

There may be a moment where you look back at the past and judge yourself harshly. Please refrain from dwelling in this.

You'll be educating yourself on a certain topic you feel drawn to. Possible topics I'm seeing : how your subconscious works, neuroscience, mythology, language, music, skin (dermatology or cosmetology)

I see you letting go of your sorrows because you have faith that what's yours won't pass you by.

A lot of vivid dreams and possible precognitions. Learning to lucid dream as well.

Romantically I'm sensing there's someone that matches your energy. They will end up being your muse or you'll end up being theirs. You'll grow closer when you least expect it even though you'll intuitively see it coming.

Gif 3

Themes :

Overcoming a dark night of the soul, curiosity, collaborations and connections.

Messages :

Oh you're walking away. Literally. People, places, situations, mindsets, mostly manipulation. It's like you finally decided to pack up and leave and the right opportunity showed up for you to do it. I see relief after grief.

You may be managing two jobs/income sources/multiple daily life things. At first it might be difficult but you'll soon get the hang of it and also find time for yourself.

I see some of you getting into skincare and wellness. Even fragrances? Things that make you feel calm and are therapeutic. You have neglected yourself for a long time so now that you've finally decided to make yourself priority little things like this feel like therapy almost. As if you're pretending to be in a vouge beauty secrets video just for yourself.

I would like to remind you, if no one has. I'm very proud of you.

There will be a lot of boundaries you'll establish this year. Be mindful not to end up being too sharp tounged to people who really do mean well. Not everyone is out to get you.

Things are changing this year and even if this change feels uncomfortable due to its newness. Its something you've been wanting. Also, improved finances. Sudden windfall even. Making the right connections that lead you to your own growth be it personal growth or growth in business or otherwise. By the end of the year you'll feel like you have more than enough. That you don't need to feel on the edge all the time. Like the bright sunny morning has finally come after a long stormy night.

Gif 4

Themes :

Self expression, travel, foreign cultures and strength.

Messages :

I can hear Freddie Mercury sing, "I want to break free." loud and clear near my ears.

I see you rebranding and reconstructing yourself. It reminds me of Maxine looking at the mirror and saying, "I will not accept a life I do not deserve."

I actually see that something that has been challenging for you suddenly just being swept away. Like you really don't have to physically exhert yourself so much. Drop the baggage my loves. Not yours to carry this year.

Its okay to manifest or seek the easiest ways. Simplify things for yourself.

I see a lot of you just realizing your worth and falling in love with yourself. Looking the way you want, dressing the way you want, courting yourself and taking yourself out on dates to the point your standard is you yourself. Honestly? Truly? Love that for you.

You'll be very determined. Like nothing stands in between you and your desires. You know what is yours. Period.

You'll realize how a simple perspective shift and not forcing yourself to do something or reacting is the key to getting what you want.

Some of you will love to document moments for yourself a lot. Maybe invest in a Polaroid camera or digital or point and shoot camera for yourself.

There's so much creative spark around you, I just see you going at with no desire for perfection. Simply fun.

You'll reap your rewards especially monetary. And have several projects to look forward to. One symbol that might follow you are spiders or spider webs or little stars when something good is about to happen.

Romantically? Oh you will be pursued alright but why am I getting y'all just don't pick up on hints? I'm literally hearing the song Loco by Itzy for y'all. So you'll be having an impact on maybe many people but you'll be oblivious to it. I think you're choosing peace and harmony so you'll rather want to be around who feels the same and go with the flow.

If you're already taken I just see more harmony and cooperation in your existing relationship.

#Pick a card #PAC #pick a card 2023 #pick a card reading #2023 Messages #Spirituality #psychic readings #tarot readers of tumblr #Pick a pile

1K notes · View notes

sleepynegress · 11 months

Text

Finished the all the recent eps of Scavengers Reign...

This is the kind of sci-fi that I love, the speculative kind that you can tell wasn't lazy at any point in its conception. A world that isn't just one climate. Alien species that all seem to be part of the same world and ecosystems... It's Nausicca if space explorers get stranded on an entire world that takes it to extremes. IT IS very clear that the creators are Miyazaki fans, in the best way. I love that it's so very adult. And none of the grown-ups' storylines are petty or easy to dissect emotionally. It's just a good thoughtful beautiful watch. ...Something to watch while falling asleep for some interesting lucid dreams. It's horrifying and awe-inspiring... I just love, love, love this show... which means they'll probably cancel and eradicate it from all streaming services, like Infinity Train.

#scavengers reign #watch it PLEASE #so it gets renewed #its too good to watch people ignore it #scavangers reign

140 notes · View notes

esre13 · 6 months

Note

Despite being an Acheron simp buuuuut

Aven x reader, where they both had a sort of lucid dream, Aven and the reader swapping bodies but they can’t really control it and has been watching the other’s lives like that.

In Aven, the reader kind of learns that he’s part of the IPC but important information like his name and position are censored, at most they know he’s a gambler who’s miserable despite acting like he’s happy.

In reader, depends on whether you want to change their identity or not, Aven learns that they’re traveling from world to world mindlessly(no they aren’t the Trailblazer) and just like for the reader their name was censored.

Anywho after the fourth dream (could be any amount u want) they finally meet in a situation where they both fought each other, doesn’t matter who looses, they mumbled their introduction towards one another.

Do what you want with the ending 🥀

omg i thought of something right away but its not really the best lol

The Trailblazer always fascinated Aventurine, they seemed so reserved at times that made him want to explode, at least give him a little snit bit of YOUR life! The same would go to the Trailblazer, they would want to find out about how Aventurine spends his time besides gambling his life away, but you already knew that, didn't you? Aventurine goes to bed with thoughts of you while the Trailblazer dozes off while holding a huge trashcan plushy and sleeping on a skibidi toilet pillow that said "I HAVE SKIBIDI TOILET RIZZ" on the back.

You hoped to wake up to watch the new episode but was abruptly stopped by waking on in a TOTALLY ripped body, only to realize that your standard white t-shirt and shorts were changed to black and gold sleepwear. Your room, filled with trash and skibidi toilet merch was covered with golden fleece and some cute blonde bear plushies. You stared into your now rich gold phone only to see heterochromia eyes looking back at you. You had blue and pink eyes???? What??? The you realized, you were hot, but not any hot, AVENTURINE hot. You got up from 'your' neat bed and stares into a mirror. You were Aventurine... But why?!?!??! All of a sudden you get a showered of messages to texts yelling on why you aren't at the IPC or your not taking interviews with anyone.

Aventurine works at the IPC??? You thought as you went crazy to get up and get ready, only to change your mind since if you had to change any clothes, you would have to see the body of Aventurine, you couldn't do that with your friend, can you..? (Throwing his "friend" line back at him heheheh)

Aventurine wakes up in a cold sweat, only to realize his beautiful room, adorned with gold was now a skibidi, trash haven. He looked down at his hand only to see ones that resembled yours. He felt ecstatic, he jumped around then he looked at what notifications you had on your phone. He immediately puts it down when all he sees is "SEASON 1252165321 of SKIBIDI JUST REALEASED!! ITS SOO GOOD." or "RIZZES YOUR MOM VERY CUTELY" all over your pages. He frowned and then changed your clothes since he didn't mind seeing any part of you, heck he was living his dream, his wonder, and now his answer! He got outside only to realize you weren't greeted with being the "Trailblazer" here.. They called you by a name, one that he rolled off his tongue because he just seemed to enjoy it. A little too much that he ended up sending a TEXT to HIMSELF to remind him to call you that.

Of course he walked around as you for the whole day, not wondering if you had to go through any problems what so ever, he was interested in living as you and wanted to stay as you for longer. It was as if he wanted you to himself.. And this was the only way he could do it. So he lived as you for a day, having the most fun, making taking a shower or two.. But he felt happy.. he was going to ask you to be his eventually, but for now, he'll just have you to himself for just this one day..

You will forever be intertwined by this one connection!

#hsr #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine

27 notes · View notes

utterentropy · 10 months

Text

Heart sleep headcanons because Heart's a massive comfort to me and I wanna come up with sleepycore stuff for him.

•When he sleeps, the little moon on his halo sparkles softly, and the light coming from the orb on each of his rings (plus halo) starts to dim.

•He sleeps with his childhood stuffie, Dragon, which is, you guessed it, a dragon. Dragon has mint green fur and dark green/cream accents, and soft but worn fur due to years of use; he was given to Heart by Cameron (Whole in our AU, just letting y'all know this AU is like CRAZY canon-divergent) when he was just a little idfant as the doll was passed down from Cam to Heart after he was emancipated and had his own home.

•His wings will softly flutter in his sleep, in the same way a dog will whimper and its legs will jerk.

•He shares his dreams with Mind! They both are talented lucid dreamers and remember their dreams very well, all these abilities coming from their species being distant relatives to dreamons (what dream creatures are called in my universe!).

•I like to think that while sometimes he snores, he tends to make a hooting sound when he sleeps, almost like a mix between an owl and a cat trill!

•He loves to sleep with lots and lots of blankets and pillows, and loves to sleep with his head covered by the blanket. He physically cannot sleep without weighted blankets, similarly to how he cannot be comfortable and at ease without wearing a hoodie, so he sleeps as if he's being held all of the time.

•Mind in our (nkgrimmie and my's) AU always wakes up at 5AM sharp to take a shower, and Heart often wakes up to the sound of him leaving his room to go rinse himself off. Heart finds the sound of him showering relaxing, and likes to hear Mind kinda do his thing before dozing back off to sleep.

•Speaking of Mind, Heart and Mind love to cuddle (in a familial way ofc). Mind holds Heart in his arms and Heart clings to him and uses the former's muscle as a comfy place to rest his head. Sometimes, when something bad happens (*looks at Soul*) or just when the day's been long, Heart enters Mind's room, and Mind sighs, and they have a nice little cuddle at night. It brings me joy knowing these two are so close in my AU. :)

•Heart is a bit of an oversleeper and sometimes Cameron/Soul goes to wake him up but he really isn't feeling it, so he just smiles a bit and leaves him to rest, most likely repositioning Dragon in his arms.

•Heart also gets extremely tired as a trauma response, but trying to keep things wholesome so I'll cover that another time. :)

•Due to sensory issues (ADHD), Heart sleeps with his blindfold off and leaves it by his cotside. It gives his eyes a nice break and ensures a good night's rest, given how much Heart values his sleep as the best part of his day.

•Heart has a semi-large collection of pyjamas in his closet that are washed at least kind of regularly (most likely thanks to Mind). They often have star/space themes to them, as does Heart's blanket, pillow, and cotsheets, and he loves to relax in his pyjamas while watching YouTube, namely Game Theory/Film Theory, Markiplier, CrankGameplays, and Alan Becker, as well as just generally nostalgic YouTubers for him. :)

•Before cot, Heart likes to sit on the porch and stargaze. It tends to tire him out, and they live in a semi-rural part of town decently away from light pollution so they (HMS/W) can actually see a pretty good amount of space from there. Sometimes Mind joins him on the porch and watches alongside them, and Heart gets to geek out a bit about stars while slowly falling asleep; and then can be carried inside and tucked in. :)

There's ABSOLUTELY more, I'll most likely make a pt ii when I can. :)

Enjoy my little comfort headcanons on the little tired boy. <3

#chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #heart chonny jash #untitled chonny jash au #chonny jash mind #heart is my absolute biggest comfort character <3 #besides Mike probably (Get Angry beloved)#not really comfortable with other people who identify as Heart interacting :(#I apologise

38 notes · View notes

kitanaijin · 9 months

Text

feathers in the attic | freakebana | part i. | blueberry trainwreck >> blackberry kush

yandere keigo takami x reader, goldfinch. words: 4567. explicit content. 18+ MDNI

He longed for a world where heroes had too much time on their hands.

No one knew better than his wives how he’d rather spend his days.

please be mindful of the ample warnings as we're all responsible for curating our own fandom experience✌️ this chapter contains neuro spice, chronic pain, non-consensual fingering, degradation, involuntary & forced orgasms, physical abuse, throat fucking, enforced sobriety, and mention of the breeding plot within the harem.

“Would’ve made a hell of a name.”

Lazing over a bed of flannels and plumage, you flip through the well worn pages of the magazine until you’ve found it.

You can still remember when an idol graced the cover. It’s an old issue from 2018 with a midsummer run, scratched to ruin ages ago. The full shoot was left virtually untouched along with the accompanying article.

She’d posed so pretty, selling her story to perfection. Not that you could fully appreciate what she was promoting.

These types of interviews tended to lose their impact, dated as they were.

No intimacy. No stakes or connection. No urgency in your step to rush to the nearest theater to support the little girl with a dream.

The farthest you could take yourself was the toilet.

Not quite the Library of Alexandria—but oh, how the loss of context tore you apart.

Within the confines of these four walls, time was a construct at your most lucid… a prison when you were dragged past the depths of your dark and twisty recesses.

The nights he’d sweep your broken body from the floor. Hold you in his crimson embrace and manhandle you to his whims. When all the fight left your lungs so you couldn’t even scream, let alone tell him no.

He stole your name twice over in a swinging pendulum of perception; Goldfinch for times you were his sweet girl… Bluebird when you were less than pliant.

It bruised him to see you scorn his affections, so he called you in kind.

He’d pin you down. Pry you apart. Fuck himself into your cunt and soul, leaving you a mere ragdoll to his desires.

You’d only ever been what he had demanded of you.

He wanted a victim, you could damsel with the best of them. This was a show that would go on with or without your approval.

He’d feed you. Rape you. Dry your tears.

Anything more than that, he can stand to spoil you.

Could’ve been hours before you’d feel him leave your side. Days, even. You’d hardly know the difference—only that his side was barren, cool to the touch as you washed a hand over the sheet…

Here one minute, gone the next. Pain emanating and all your own.

Without the organic warmth of sunlight on your cheeks, you’d never feel the day break for yourself.

He took everything from you. Your power. Your will. Your life.

The room was set to a constant low light, controlled by the flick of his wrist and a tablet.

Never natural and never enough, same as every inch of every room of this godforsaken place. A damn menagerie, down to the fucking temp.

dry heat so you won’t catch cold… fans in the warmer months.

He kept you maintained. Albeit depleted in your current state, but no one was about to accuse the bastard of neglecting you.

If they ever found his nest, that is.

Would it matter?

Would they care?

White knuckles hold the spine as the water bottle at your side loses the last of its tepid edge.

You can’t think about it. Mainlining dopamine where you could manage would have to get you through the worst of it for now.

Vivid colors punch a sigh from your lips, even muted in the dark like this. More than satisfied, you’re relieved. Manic thoughts swirl that someday he might deem the material obscene. He was a jealous man, mercurial by nature. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for him to tatter disagreeable content beyond recognition.

Maybe leaving the article unmolested was a gesture on his part, a bygone offering.

Perhaps he’d just overlooked the whole thing. It could mean nothing.

Fingers graze the gorgeous arrangements until you can match the scent into your mind and memory. Citrus and pome. Florals you haven’t thought to conjure in years.

Freakebana.

You take your time tracing the header with a wavering touch before devouring the article.

Composition. Purpose. How to style your very own lovely item.

In another life you’d be all over this shit. You and your quirk.

Don’t think about it.

It’s a striking contrast that never fails to overwhelm you…

Sensual. A serenity that follows the warm blush of anthurium piercing the understated pears. Surreal. The next image featured a bit of Queen Anne’s lace and soft peonies over an orange. Vulgar.

The dissonance of rotting fruit and lush botany was breathtaking. The writer was on the fucking money in the best of ways.

You had some trouble placing the last of the flowers through the hurricane wreaking havoc over your joints and muscles. Breath catching, the aches come roaring back.

You’ve passed the eye of the storm.

Just as well, you’re wrapping on your daily indulgence anyways. Spoil yourself now and you risk the brainrot of whatever envy you’ve got waiting in the wings.

You tuck the magazine under the mattress with a frown.

“Seriously.” Falling back on the mattress, you set the heels of your hands over your eyes. “Like taking a shower and having that perfect comeback all those hours later. So goddamn irritating.”

A voice cuts through the vent, where her wall meets your ceiling. “Never took you for the hero track.”

“Never said I was.”

You hone your focus on the neon numbers at your bedside, blinking away one hour to the next.

The clock reads five fifteen. He’ll be darkening your doorstep soon enough.

A distant cry tickles your eardrums. You curl in on yourself, tremors washing over you with a groan. The contractions in your belly spread like a wildfire of pain past your thighs and calves. It’s all you can do to pull the sheet over your shoulders and bury yourself deeper.

Five thirty.

You’d thought to ask if she heard anything on her end but Magpie had long grown quiet in the room beside yours. It’s all you can do to force your bloodshot eyes open.

You have to stay awake—you can fall apart when he’s taken to the skies or buried six feet under.

Five fifty…

Before sleep can take you, a near melodic taps hit your ears; the sweeping fingers of a key code just beyond your reach.

Keigo lets himself inside, his feathers shutting the door faster than you can think to act.

Not that it matters. You couldn’t fight him off if you’d been training from the start of your confinement.

Your eyes remain locked on the time. Jaw tight, you commit to refusing him.

Five fifty one.

He’ll be late if he doesn’t hurry the fuck up and get face time with every wife. There was a ritual to these things.

Timing had to be down to an art form otherwise the fastest man would have to be late to the day job. Usually a punishment or two.

Hate to do this, he’d say. Lies spewed past a tight jaw and a strained cock.

Rather than present a front of urgency to the fact, he only lets out a long suffering sigh at the sight of you.

You hear his voice before you ever make his face.

“I know you’re awake.” You tense under his avian gaze. “Was it another bad one?”

He drops the tray of breakfast and meds on a dresser you’ve always found woefully redundant. Then he’s crossing the room, shameless in his liberties over the unclaimed space.

The mattress dips beside you. His body runs flush against your back as an unwelcome touch traces shapes over your belly.

“Finch…” A plea on his lips, a warning to your ears. “I’m sure you don’t want to make a bad time worse. You know the kind of stress I’m under. C’mon, Songbird. You gotta give me something.”

Silence begets silence. He frowns in the darkness, ever waiting on a poised reply from his captive bride.

“Tell you what. You talk to me. You behave, I’ll see what I can do on my end,” he coaxes with his fingers carding through your hair. “We can have family game night. Maybe a movie?”

“So generous,” you rasp.

He hums into a modest shrug, pressing a kiss over your shoulder. “I thought so, at least.”

Smug fuck.

“You still have Starling on the suppressants?”

His wings posture around you reflexively. You have only a second to relish in the chaos before his grip is tightening. He pulls the hair he’s buried himself in.

“I thought you were gonna be a good girl,” he accuses.

“That was your mistake… You’re the one who wanted me to sing.” Spite bleeds from your lips like a curse.

“Really now.” He quirks his brow, almost impressed. “You know what, fair play.”

Drawing your head back for a torturous moment too long, he keeps you in those eyes right there with him. Molten and tragic—fixed solely on you.

You catch your breath in the pillow, heaving into a series of coughs.

He passively regards you as the strewn feathers do his bidding. They haul you from the mattress, raising you up with ease. Remaining on the bed, Keigo knocks both wrists under his neck to lean on.

Hands above your head, he has you bound and restrained midair. You watch the idle plumage sharpen in your periphery. Only two.

You can’t muster the fucks it would take to panic… Never mind the pleas to get out of this.

The aches are ever present, blossoming upwards now. It grounds you, pins you to the moment as the feathers keep you locked in place.

“Here I wanted to have a nice breakfast with all you pretty birds on my day off,” he grouses.

“The pain I’m in is killing me. Day in, day out. You leave me to wither and rot without a thought to my suffering. Not me, not any of us.” You’re absolutely raging beneath his phantom hold. “Fuck your day off.”

The blades move closer. Just a nick in the right place, that’s all it would take to end this nightmare for you. There’s nothing else for him to take.

“As much as I appreciate your blessing, I was already planning on it.”

One slice. And another. A mere whisper of cloth that leaves your breasts exposed.

Both straps of your silken nightdress come undone on his order. They turn the remaining scraps to ribbons until you’re completely nude for him.

Rising from the bed, his wings bristle ever so.

Keigo takes his time sauntering towards you. Rounding the bed, he pops a grape in his mouth. It only takes one fallen feather trailing behind him to swipe pills from the very same tray.

“Not like either of us have anywhere to be. Why don’t I make you really sing, hm?”

Close as he is, you find yourself flinching. His calloused touch ghosts across your skin, breath fanning in tandem over your cheeks.

“What d’ya suppose I’m gonna find when I get down there.”

“Drop dead,” you curse.

Your head is knocked back into the wall before you even register the slap. A practiced hand slips inside your mouth to silence you, taking his time fucking you with his fingers. Never once does he break stride with the hand that keeps time over your pulse.

Your cheek burns. His fingers gag you as he smothers the sounds of protest at your airway. Emboldened by the sounds at his fingertips, his breath stutters over your cheeks as he ruts desperately against you.

He releases you. Presses on, low as he dares to tread in these little hours.

Down your chest.

Past your stomach.

Quick as a flash, he pulls himself from your mouth leaving a trail of spittle that runs down your chin. The absence leaves you fighting for your life, choking on air one minute and a scream the next.

Deft fingers bite into your throat. You groan, arching into his touch.

“Tell me why you’re so interested all of a sudden,” he bids. “Couldn’t possibly be out of concern for me…”

You want to tear away from him. Claw his skin, his eyes. Those feathers aren’t granting you any favors—palms bleeding stigmata, their loyalties remain solely with the master who controls them.

You’re in a losing fight with the pain.

You’ll have to ride this out until he kills you or tires from the game. Fuck this and fuck him.

“Star…ling,” you grind out.

A weak swing of your legs is thwarted with ease.

He loosens his touch some. You hurl your answer at him while there’s a fraction of a chance he’ll leave you alone.

“Lend me her power or up my dose… I don’t care, just give me enough to end it.”

This gives him pause. He hovers over your collarbone. You watch him swallow.

“I can’t live like this anymore,” you sob. “The pain is unbearable and you’re not letting me heal myself. No sunlight. No relief. I can’t sleep unless you put me under and it’s never enough. It was for me, Keigo.”

He sends for a feather to fetch his whims. Rests the heel of his waiting hand against your mons.

“That’s what you’re going with?”

You hang your head. “It’s the truth.”

His lips lock around your aching nipple just as he dips inside you.

He spreads your thighs, appraising your legs with a scrutinizing eye and a wandering touch to match. You’d scream if you thought it would help.

Keigo slots your legs over his shoulders. Sucks a bruise into your thigh, cups your cunt. You jolt into the assault.

Slow to start, he presses down and teases you with his relentless strumming. His middle finger laps your juices, fucking them deeper into you every time.

Thighs shake. Your stomach tenses, bracing for the forced release.

His wrist twists in quick succession. It’s all you hear. He latches on your clit, a steady staccato of tongue and teeth with his forearm shining with sweat and your own wetness.

Your breath catches on a wail, riding the orgasm for all it’s worth. The last of your release comes pouring out of you, stuttering the last of the stream all over his face; a shining testament to an evil man who knows just how to give migraine-shattering head.

The hormonal gremlin that haunts your attic almost wants him to fuck you. Best taken as a sign you’re ovulating… better to stay away.

It’s like he can smell the apprehension on your skin. His eyes stare up at you in the dark. Not in awe, rather a cautious advantage.

Ever the predator, he watches and awaits the moves of the prey.

You’re still a writhing mess on his tongue. If you could bury yourself in his hair, you would bear down with a white knuckle grip and a piercing cry to match.

Your arms tingle in the restraints above you. “Keigo… stop.”

He does so. Pulls away from you entirely.

You slump to the floor. A groan, “Keigo—what the fuck?!”

The scruff on his chin glistens in the low light. He smiles down on you, aglow as an angel.

Even Lucifer had wings before the fall.

You flinch when his palm reaches your jaw. It takes you by surprise how gentle, how earnest it was. Almost reminds you of the beginning.

Never enough. Not really.

Of course you knew who he was. Hawks was renowned on and off the job; a top hero during business hours and a notorious playboy after dark. He frequented your flower shop when you were earth side.

Still, he never touched you. He didn’t have to when he’d been grooming you from the start.

You came. He called. Service with a smile, even with eyes locked on the scene of him devouring the deepest parts of you.

He left you to your own devices for the most part. One day you got a little too familiar, too comfortable with the back and forth, letting it slip that you’d been living with chronic pain for years.

And maybe you shouldn’t have reassured him that your form of management is often self medicated, supplied by your plant quirk…

But he looked so sad.

Little did you know the ammunition you’d be giving him. A warrant signed by your own hand for a drawn out death, long and tortuous.

Coming to, you gag around him.

“Take it,” he demands. “Shut your whore mouth and take it.”

He’s got a fistful of your hair and you can’t get a breath in while you’re warming his cock.

You push on his thighs but he only tightens his grip, pulling you flush against him.

He stutters above you and then slows.

Stays still inside you, caresses the bulge taking purchase down your throat.

One roll of his hips. Then two to follow. He came on your tongue before he could see to the third.

“Don’t you dare swallow yet.” He twists your nipple, further scrutinizing you as he nods towards your quivering lips. “Open up, let me see.”

You do as you’re told. In the dark like this, you don’t have the luxury of foresight. You could never have known that he had you where he wanted; primed with a grape and your cocktail of pills and vitamins.

He takes the grape in his mouth, tracing your pout with his thumb. After a few moments pass when he drops a languid pool of spit over his come. You choke on the intrusion and are afforded no time to recover. He presses two tablets on the pile before making you take it all.

Palm across your mouth, his thumb caresses your throat. He’s got his fingers censoring you, guiding you.

You swallow with a retch and grimace before taking the rest.

He watches, expectant. Keigo snags a circular style, day of the week pill dispenser from an errant feather. Snaps the lid open and presents you with your haul for the morning.

“Go on,” he urges.

You present your palm to him… It dawns on you both that you were bleeding still.

“Damn it,” he scoffs. Runs off to a trunk in the corner and comes back with first aid. Regards the blood with a rough double take. “Fuck.”

“If it’s really that bad, maybe you should stop doing it. Food for thought.”

He turns your hand over, alcohol wipe in hand. Doesn’t give you any countdown, just starts scrubbing his scene.

“Fuck,” you hiss. “Son of a bitch…”

“Do you want the vitamins or not?”

“Are they going to put me in a good mood?”

“Ginger, garlic, and elderberry… mostly immune boosting. Best I can do. You know how I feel about you girls and drugs.”

You watch him, incredulous. “And just what does your little philosophy have to say about forcing sleeping pills on your wives so you don’t have to worry about them keeping up, hmm?”

“Finch, you’ve taken your punishment like a good girl.” He nurses his temple where he’s bound to have a migraine as well. “You can take a day off from being a brat, for once.”

You catch him in the low light. Seems he’s nursing a bruise to match. Onto your own scrutiny, his feathers cut you down before the gripe can draw breath.

His attentions never leave the work.

You pry your hand away, cradling the wound with a hiss. “It’s aftercare for me to watch you squirm, dickless.”

“Is that so…” Keigo sounds almost bored. He rolls his eyes, turning up the brightness of the room. “Well today it’s gonna be antibiotic ointment and gauze pads because someone decided to waste time with an attitude.”

Keigo dresses the wounds without dictation. You allow him his silence until an intrusive thought has you groaning.

“What is it now?”

You shake your head. “I can’t. It’s really bad.”

“Say your peace, Finch. I’m only one man and I have all of you to get through.”

You reel back with a wince, more hurt now than the slap across the face earlier.

The hand hangs limp in his own, touch matching his ever softening tone.

“No. That’s not… fuck.” A biting sigh. “I’m sorry. That’s hardly fair… How’m I supposed to call myself the fastest if I can’t even hack time management with my family.”

He returns his attentions to the inflamed palm. Draws you to his lips, all adoration.

“You know you can come to me with anything.”

And now he’s just gaslighting you.

Fingers splay across your neck and jaw… forcing your gaze, forcing your intimacy.

Your eyes well with tears when there’s nowhere to hide. He steals them away with a frown, lingering across the bruises that betray your sleep deprivation.

“Why are you crying?”

You push him with barely any fight left. “Please. Just go.”

As you thrash to get away, he can only fight to hold you closer. The pain spikes in an unforgiving swipe across your abdomen. You whine into his shoulder, shuddering into his arms.

He cradles your head to his chest with a soothing rock. Feathers run down your arms and back, all forgiveness.

“You know what would help…”

He’s the devil at your shoulder. You are fully aware of what he’s about to say.

“A baby won’t begin to fix this,” you break down. He has to strain to hear, this you know. “…won’t fix me.”

The warmth of his kiss bleeds under your skin. He thrums a gentle rap against your arm, just waiting for you to settle.

He shushes you, flying over his crimson helpers for an assist. A damp cloth. Dragon balm. Some medicinal chaser that tasted more like sewage runoff than remotely helpful.

Keigo carries you back to bed. He lays you down, spreads you out. You wince as he cleans his mess. Mercifully, you can’t see him. But you hear him. Feel him.

You make the sounds of him rustling with the cap. It’s mercifully warm on your abused muscles before the cooling menthol hits.

“Tell me the name.” Your blood runs cold as it registers what he’s asking of you.

He must’ve gotten to Magpie during their conjugal. Shit.

You swallow when he serves the crumbs anyways. “Little Birdie told me that our beloved Blue had heroic aspirations of her own, once upon a time.”

His touch roves over your legs to start, working the product into the meat of your thighs. He waits for what must feel like ages in his eyes… but it would never be long enough for you.

“C’mon. You’re really not gonna tell me?”

“Expect an answer, you’ll have to stop talking at some point,” you grouse.

Your breath catches on a strangled wail, meeting no resistance when he flips you.

“Quit your whining,” he snaps. “It’s all I ever hear from you. And fuck me for trying to make this marriage work, right?”

His touch is unrelenting. Prying the tension from the source, spreading his fingers over your lower back.

You try to reach out to him. Make him stop. Bat him away. Fight.

A feather nicks your hand away with the swipe of his whims.

“The name, Blue.” It’s not a grounding request anymore. “You give me the name, this all goes away.”

Starling flashes in mind and memory. If you could sleep, if you could dream—

“Freakebana!”

You curl in on yourself, pushing him with what little strength you have left from this ordeal. With any hope, your pride would be toll enough for him.

The one thing you had, gone in an instant. Precious and private, thoroughly yours. Now it was known to him. Sullied by his acknowledgement. He could twist your comfort and make it ugly—could do whatever he wanted, really.

Keigo was no stranger to it. This would be the least of his atrocities.

He nods to himself in quiet concert, seemingly mollified for now. Keigo leans beside you and presses a kiss over your bruising cheek. His idle touch traces the thrumming pulse before throwing the baby out with the bath water and simply scent marking your whole arm.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your wrist.

When Keigo rises from the bed, you keep yourself small. He crosses the room to the dresser. Out of the drawer and into his arms came the clothes meant for you.

You must have been a sorry sight if he’s dressing you in his boxer shorts and cotton undershirt over the negligée.

Again, woeful redundance. He’d disposed of your clothes in the first week, imposing a preference for nudity and teddies. What little he keeps on hand for himself, the only times your husband is liable to share are rare moments such as these.

Toe to toe, back to back.

He’s more patient coming back to you.

Two arms in each hole, ever minding your head as he finishes with the well worn v-neck. Right leg and the left until you’re left to your relative comforts.

“Just… I want you to think on it, yeah?”

You furrow your brow. “If this is about the fucking baby—”

On hands and knees, he remains unabashed in his desires. It’s an old tune, one he’s carried for years now.

A baby will cure your pain. A baby will give you purpose. A baby will soothe your broken heart.

Each and every argument has been run into the ground. He doesn’t need another mouth to feed, let alone want one. The others had been thrust into the position, far before their time or consent.

You were one of two holdouts, yes. But as ever, he remains a slave to his instincts. There were fledglings in his care and he craved their unborn siblings.

“I don’t want to fight,” he sighs. Scrubs a hand across his face like he actually believes it. “I just need you to know there’s an out for you. One that would make me very happy.”

You restrain yourself.

You let him kiss you.

You feel him leave your side.

Only when the door shuts behind him do you give yourself permission to fall apart.

Head pounding, pulse racing, a death rattle crawls from your lips.

The neon lighting bares down in an obtrusive vermilion that burns your eyes, ever the voyeur to your utter destruction.

#yandere keigo takami #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere keigo x reader #mha. fic #🎟️yandere🎟️#.mine #.freakebana #.keigo takami #.masterlist

23 notes · View notes

wolveria · 1 year

Text

The Raven’s Hymn - Ch 35

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “I wish they would not take you for their grotesque experiments. Every time they take you from my side, I wish to do unspeakable harm to them.”

AO3

You didn’t know how you managed to make it through the rest of the night without nightmares, but you did, in no small part because of 049. Despite the hours of sleep, you were run down and didn’t speak much the next morning.

“How was your rest?” 049 asked after breakfast, a small affair of berries and some kind of orange pudding.

“Okay,” came your non-response. It was the best you could do, but the bags under your eyes would tell the more honest story.

If only you could have told 049 why you had nightmares. Hell, you would be happy to share the dream in which he’d been a main feature. It still didn’t make sense why the coin would have that sort of effect on you, and there was always the possibility the coin hadn’t done a damn thing. Having an explicit dream about 049, no matter how lucid, wasn’t something you could automatically blame on another SCP. Your mind was more than capable of providing those fantasies itself—and wouldn’t that just be your luck that you had that particular dream at the wrong time.

And yet, the strange déjà vu that followed when you reunited with 049, that hadn’t been imagined. If only you could tell him about the coin and the dream, you were curious what a mind like his could come up with.

Despite 049’s disbelieving look at your assertion, he didn’t push it. He had his own work to focus on; 049 had been given copies of the medical reports of those you had healed. You’d been surprised to learn that he’d been given them while you were gone, and you sensed Dr. Puli’s hand in this. Maybe a way to keep the SCP occupied, because you couldn’t honestly picture the Foundation taking his research seriously enough to ask for his medical opinion.

It was soothing to listen to the scratch of his pen against the pages of his journal. There must have been something anomalous about that book as well, no matter how much he wrote in it he never seemed to run out of paper.

As you washed your hands after eating, your gaze fell to the black bag sitting on the counter. Ancient leather cracked with time and heavy use, you wondered how old it truly was and how 049 had acquired it. Could he pull out anything he could imagine, or could he only remove things that he had put inside beforehand? The Foundation had only let him keep it because he hadn’t attempted to hurt anyone with its contents, but it was still so strange…

Warmth pressed against your back, and you froze.

“I apologize for startling you.” 049’s voice was low in your ear. “You seem so… worn. Is there anything I can do?”

You pulled in a shallow breath through uncooperative lungs.

“Uh, no. I don’t-don’t think so.”

A hard surface brushed against your cheek, the curved surface of his beak just out of the corner of your vision. He’d barely done anything, and your entire system had shut down.

“Is this alleviating your stress?” he asked, his tone lilted into genuine curiosity. “I had thought perhaps a more physical approach would be effective.”

You closed your eyes and inhaled slowly through your nose. What was 049 doing? Christ, he was so close. Your instincts were trapped between equal parts wanting to run and wanting to surrender.

“Effective at what?” you forced out.

“Helping you relax.”

He sounded so sincere, clearly having no idea. No goddamn idea at all what this was doing to you. He didn’t have you trapped against the counter, but it was close enough that your mind eagerly supplied images of 049 bending you over it.

“Should I stop?” Worry colored his words, and he put some distance between you. “I do not wish to discomfort you. It was a treatment I wished to try. Ever since you have returned, your scent has been different. As if quite distressed. I had hoped to… but you’ve been under the experimentation of others already, you do not need me to—”

“No, no,” you interrupted quickly. You’d never heard him ramble before. You turned to face him, giving your best reassuring smile. “Really, it’s… nice. I don’t mind at all.”

He seemed to perk up but didn’t immediately hover over you again, Instead, he indicated you should follow him with a tilt of his head, his gaze observant but warm.

“Perhaps then, we can be efficient in your treatment while also tackling our workload. Have you looked at these medical reports yet? They are fascinating.”

A little curious yourself, you followed him over to his section of the counter where he’d laid out the files, all with the names and details of the patients of the experiment, D-Class and Foundation personnel both.

“No, I haven’t looked yet,” you said, glancing over the reports closest to you. You weren’t sure what you would find, but the distraction was welcome.

Especially when, as soon as you stood at the counter, 049 took up the space behind you, pressing himself along your back as he reached past you to pull some of the files closer. It was like trying to focus on a puzzle while slightly drunk, your brain melting to mush as soon as his weight lightly leaned against you.

049 showed you file after file, all the results the same, each patient completely cured after your combined touch. You tried to listen, you really did. It felt rude not to pay attention to every word, but all of your focus was on trying to remain upright and not push back against him. It was its own kind of sweet torture, and you couldn’t say it was unpleasant.

“Doctor?”

Ah, it seemed he had caught on to your inattention.

You blew out a breath and let out a small, embarrassed noise.

“Perhaps I am more tired lately.”

049’s response was not immediate with words, but he did lean in further. Your hands instinctively braced against the counter even though he was barely putting any weight on you.

“It is quite understandable.”

His voice was directly in your ear, but what stood out to you most was how quiet he was. So quiet it was possible he wasn’t being picked up by the room microphones. You knew from your time on observation duty that there were two: one above the observation window, and a second attached to the camera in the inner chamber.

You slowly glanced over one shoulder, and sure enough, the width of 049’s shoulders blocked you from being seen by anyone in the observation room. Was he doing this intentionally?

“I wish they would not take you for their grotesque experiments,” he continued, his volume keeping at the low level. “Every time they take you from my side, I wish to do unspeakable harm to them.”

You closed your eyes, turning your head to face forward again, goosebumps traveling up your arms.

“I should not say such things,” he said, perhaps taking your stiff posture as fear. “It is unbecoming of a medical physician.”

“You can tell me whatever you want. I won’t judge you.” You winced. “I’ve already done so before, and I don’t wish to do it again.”

He was quiet for a moment, both of his hands resting on the counter just outside of yours, bracing you between his arms.

“We can rely on each other, can’t we?” you asked when the silence grew too much.

His answer came when his cheek rested against the side of your head, covered by the hood of his cloak but still warm.

“I believe we are the only ones who can. Or at least, my trust in you is greater than I have in anyone else. Do you… feel the same?”

It was such a fragile question, vulnerable and easily broken.

“I do,” you said, the answer coming easily.

He made a satisfied hum, the vibration pleasant at your back.

“Despite all that has transpired, I am fortunate to have met you. My existence would have been much more… empty. Hollow.”

Oh. You were grateful he couldn’t see your expression. It was most likely on fire.

“I… know what that’s like.”

“Indeed?”

You could have done without Leahy’s torture, the exhaustion, the goddamn existential horror of it all, but looking back at everything that had happened… you couldn’t say you would take it back. Not with how much you had changed. And erasing it would take away this odd but strangely beautiful relationship you’d developed with the SCP.

“I didn’t really have any friends. I had colleagues and coworkers, and I had my work, but looking back, it does seem very…”

“You were alone.”

You had been. God, you’d been alone for so long you couldn’t remember when you hadn’t been.

“Yes.”

The word came out quiet and somber, like a confession. You closed your eyes and nudged your head against his cheek. He adjusted his position, his jaw propped on top of your head now, and the shape of it was unexpectedly human. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised with how human-like his skeletal structure was, but little things like that still caught you off balance.

“I am familiar with the sensation. It is… was a close companion of mine. I suppose, over time, one could grow accustomed to it. But I would not wish to do so again now that I’ve experienced its absence.”

There was a haunted quality there. Not a fear of ghosts, but an acknowledgement that they roamed some places more than the living.

You moved a hand over his, already so close, and your fingers curled in between his gloved ones, your palm pressed against his knuckles.

He squeezed your fingers in return, but your small gesture wasn’t enough. At this angle, the observation crew shouldn’t be able to see more than 049’s back. Intentionally or not, it was a break from the constant surveillance, but more importantly, it was an opportunity for you to be honest and genuine.

You leaned back against him, purposefully nudging your head against his neck. You felt more like a cat trying to rub up against him, and you’d meant it to be comforting, affectionate, a confirmation that you understood his loneliness and didn’t want him to ever feel that again.

But his weight pressed against your back with purpose, his breath at your ear a shuddering exhale, and he nearly did trap you against the counter. There was a sudden lack of restraint in his movements, which made it clear everything he’d done up until now had been carefully controlled.

And then he froze. 049 quickly pulled away, freeing his hand from yours as he stepped away completely. Your back felt cold and horribly exposed to the prying eyes on the other side of the glass.

“I wish to show you my journal,” he said, standing next to you a safe distance away. “I have some ideas how this cure can possibly be replicated by formula. It would be a breakthrough to be able to administer such treatment without needing our presence at the time of delivery—”

He continued on with his scientifically inclined ideas, and it would have almost been normal if not for the way he avoided meeting your gaze and his words ran on without stopping.

You tried not to stare, or at least, not make it obvious to the ever-present viewers. 049 himself didn’t seem to notice your blatant observation, and that was good, because you were reeling and trying to put your feet on steady ground.

What the hell had just happened?

Next Chapter

#the raven's hymn #scp 049 #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 fanfiction #scp fanfiction #wolveria writes

57 notes · View notes

neonpaperlanterns · 2 months

Note

I hope you are willing to hear a hollow knight theory.

So, Broken Vessel shows some "life" before kicking the bucket after being"cleaned" of the infection puppeteering its body.

And knows nail arts. While they are a mere puppet during their boss fight. We can see them use Dash Slash, at the very least. In the boss fight.

So, what if Broken Vessel was this unknown Esmy that Sly was following in his infected dreams when we woke him up and sent him back to his shop.

Esmy the broken vessel, a named vessel. Wonder where'd they get the name from. How would Sly know it since Vessels can't speak?

What if, Esmy the broken vessel was a adopted child of Sly. Maybe not adopted per say but taken in by him at the very least.

Learned nail arts alongside the nail masters, and stayed with Sly until something drew both them and consequently Sly. Down into the earth

Broken Vessel, or Esmy is one of three surviving vessels we run into. Who may not be alive for long but still, they lived through the boss fight only to stare up and reach towards us after being freed from the infection. Then they slump, never to move again.

Another vessel we know nothing about, yet could've ran into if Hornet didn't get to them first. Was the vessel slain by Hornet (Don't know who else at that point would impale the vessel with its own nail so hornet is my best bet.)

Only theory I have on it is that. Someone taught it how to stitch if it made the cloak itself, otherwise someone gave it the cloak either as a gift or as a transaction. Maybe Moth and Esmy had a sibling relationship under Sly as hands for his shop?

I love the vessels so I wanted to run some thoughts on these two, unknown, possibly child-like automatons of Void and Soul.

Thoughts?

I am always willing to hear a hollow knight theory.

This makes the Broken Vessel fight all the more heartbreaking and I am here for it.

The idea that what was keeping Sly trapped in his own mind, slowly being over taken by the infection, being him searching for his missing child is just really good. And it would make sense as well.

I imagine that Esmy felt compelled to venture into the depths because well the Little Ghost is, so I see it as something all vessels just need to do. An innate desire if you will. So Sly would follow after them, possibly Esmy was the last of the his children to leave and Sly had grown worried. He seems to know where the other nail masters are but where could Esmy have gone?

And they reach out in their final moments of lucidity because they recognize something about the Ghost. Be it that they are the same or maybe it’s in the way they fight. Reminiscent of their family they didn’t get to say goodbye to.

I get the impression that the Broken Vessel and the one found in Greenpath did not know of each other. We are still unsure how any of the vessels even escaped the Abyss. At least if my memory serves correct.

It’s possible they helped each other but I see the vessels not wanting to be around one another. There is nothing to gain with further interaction because they are made of god and void. Empty creatures waiting to be filled. They would not gain that from another vessel. So they part and find something that will belong to them. That will give them something that will fill that void that was forced upon them.

#hollow knight #random thoughts hour #theory time

7 notes · View notes

somekindofsentience · 6 months

Text

a place between unreality and lucidity, or understanding the intentions of Chapter 12

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSIONS OF DEATH, SUICIDE, AND ABUSE. I ALSO TALK A LOT ABOUT LUCID DREAMING, WHICH CAN BE DISSOCIATIVE FOR READERS, SO PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

SPOILER WARNING: REFERENCED YUME NIKKI AND OMORI SPOILERS, AND OBVIOUSLY, DREAMSCAPE SPOILERS.

We're back bois, and we're back with my favourite chapter.

I love Chapter 12 so much, the same way I adore the Truth Sequence in Omori. Originally I was going to compare the two, but I realised there's little overlap other than the intentions they're written with.

...so I wrote about the intentions instead. The little bitch boy intentions. You'll see what I mean.

Buckle up, this one takes some insane turns. I had wild epiphanies while churning all this out in a couple hours. I think I may be losing my mind.

understanding what I mean by "lucidity", and discussing dreams as plot devices

Lucidity is a very particular type of plot device that I find difficult to describe - it is a specific type of fragmented narrative that fragments location, exploring an impossibility that often has links to deeper meaning. Typically it is an abstract way of foreshadowing or revealing something to the reader, and it mirrors the concept of a "liminal space".

Dreams in texts have been used as a method of foreshadowing for hundreds of years. While the human brain has no ability to predict the future, but only reframe the past, the uncontrollable fragments of memory that are spat back out at you during unconsciousness have captured human fascination since we first started sleeping.

Dreamscape itself isn't a dream, but it is a different form of consciousness, and the creator has stated that Chapter 12 draws a lot from lucid dreaming, which suggests this counts as part of the 'Lucidity' narrative trope. As someone who does not dream much, I find this shit fascinating. Like I'm sure it's horrific as hell but. It seems so fucking cool.

Perhaps some of the best examples of the use of lucid dreaming to form narrative are Yume Nikki and its fangames, as well as Omori. Yume Nikki was a catalyst for the creation of many RPG maker horror games, and it's an excellent piece of work. No concrete story, just wandering an endless abyss of Madotsuki's mind, observing the horrors within it. The fangames branched off this concept (I personally recommend .flow ) and added more aspects, but never being concrete about the trauma.

Things are illogical in the Yume Nikki dreamverse, but they don't have to be logical, and things don't have to make sense to the player - it is purely up for speculation. At the same time, we know it has to mean something. There's an innate sense of exploration and meaning in dreams, despite the real life version often being meaningless bullshit.

This is where Omori explicitly diverts - it outright states what happened on the Recital day, in a short, distorted sequence known ominously as "The Truth". While the entire game is about lucid dreaming, this section captures the horror due to the illogical nature of it, where Sunny travels from his living room, to a hospital, to stairs, his bedroom, backstage... things are wrong. At the same time, the player is focused on completing the album and collecting the polaroids, with the confusing nature of the locations building to the horror of the final moment.

Despite all this, none of these sequences are the big moment, or even nearing the climax.

Yume Nikki doesn't have a big moment, unless you see the ending as significant enough for that title. It is a game about wandering unreality, and without a plot, it can't have a climax. It uses lucidity to provide a sense of narrative, even when there isn't one, tricking the player into trying to comprehend an impossible universe.

Omori is not building up to that that one sequence, but rather, it is a stepping stone leading to the Final Duet, which is the true climax of the game. It's an emotional release for Sunny and the player, a sense of finality in a game without a proper "ending". The Truth sequence is merely a way for the player to understand plot and build horror, and without the Truth's photo album... we would understand nothing at all. An impossible universe.

This leads to my big theory...

the purpose of chapter 12 - you can't understand it

Chapter 12 is a lying piece of shit and won't admit to us more than cookie crumbs about the future of the Dreamscape universe. And I still love it. And here's why.

Due to the abstract nature of it, we can't understand it. Perhaps Sunny can, to some extent, but since we're not sure the cause nor purpose for it, we can't understand it. We can speculate, but we can't understand. Just like Yume Nikki, we might never properly understand what each segment means.

Here's some little nuggets I've been scrambling through for information.

The beginning talks about time and distortion of it, which mimics some of the issues with time Sunny has in real life. This may be foreshadowing his eviction or declining physical state.

Body horror is incredibly prevalent, particularly self-mutilation. This has several implications, but it likely hints to Sunny's feelings for himself. It may also foreshadow what Mari looked like during the Recital day scene, which I'm starting to realise hasn't actually been shown yet. Interesting.

While this is one of the first times we see Mari as more than a virus or a corpse in the text, it's also completely distorted by Sunny's unreliable narration. Despite the slightly manipulative conversation held between them, Sunny is completely frozen in grief, desperate to beg for her forgiveness.

Sunny sits there with her pain in that hospital, insisting he deserves it. It hints further to Sunny's declining mental state, but that doesn't tell us anything more than his own self-loathing. Both this and the above point foreshadow Mari's potentially abusive nature.

Sunny is completely determined to stay within the lucid dream, and is also very insistent that Mari is somewhere at the end, which turns out to be right. How he knows this is not shown to the reader.

Segments of this are related to Mari's own memory, which provides us with a better understand of the VHS system, and of the accident that lead to her suicide.

The lucid dream is a representation of Sunny's unending trauma through what he perceives to be Mari's eyes, perhaps even a representation of what he feels he needs to do for her forgiveness.

We also learn a bit more about Pianoboy, who we know is a clone of Sunny, and he specifically highlights a connected feeling of isolation. At the same time, it has to go further than that, but we're again limited by understanding. There's more, but not enough to guess what 'more' means.

But those tidbits mean nothing. And I can't do much more than spew nonsense about segments, with no ultimate conclusion.

Because Chapter 12 is not designed to be understood, but rather, it's something to look back on when you finally do understand. It's foreshadowing in its most complex form, hinting ominously to what you don't understand. It is also similar to Black Space in this way - no-one can figure out the truth of the Recital Day from Black Space alone.

I could spend hours trying to understand every symbol, every room, the essence of Chapter 12 itself, and fuck me because i totally would but ultimately, it's all fragments of a deeper narrative, more complex than our limited understanding.

And it's a horrible, horrible thing to do to a reader. An unanswerable segment, dangling understanding right in front of their nose, but making it unreachable. Haunting them with the human desire to see patterns in chaos. What utter cruelty. How could you do this to me, @omoriboii. Why would you do this to me, the analysis God, with the most overthink-y brain in existence, and yet give me, ultimately, nothing to lead to. Why leave me a crumb to look back on, something I can never understand with the information I hold. I may be stupid, but I can understand when I am beat.

It's perfection.

why even torture someone with the inability to understand?

Building horror is incredibly difficult, because it's so easy to do foreshadowing incredibly wrong. We've all seen horror movies that are so bad they're funny, relying entirely on petty jumpscares, terrible props and showing off the killer way too fast-

Wait a minute. Showing off the killer too fast ruins everything? Dammit, I wanted to flex my big sharp knife. That's right guys. I'm the serial killer of this blog. ?????

Anyway, demonstrating the inability to understand something to the reader is a common feeling that gets the emotional brain hooked and the cogs whirring in the logical segments. You need to understand. You develop theories, you discuss them with others, seeking evidence, only to find something that changes your view, ruining everything, forcing you to start again. Being teased is fun. I am kinky

That's my favourite feeling of all time. It's why I spent hours searching for that again after I played Omori. I still remember my first theories of the truth of the game, right up until the one I had just before I discovered the real Truth. Even after that, there was more for me to analyse. Analysis. I love analysis. Yk?

I love a good challenge, and analysing these segments are so much of a challenge that I actually can't do it, which is why I get so hyped over it. Why do I do this to myself?

I actually don't really know how to end this, but I think you get my point. It's fun. I like it. I love suffering. uhh. dreams cool.

new bit: song i wrote this listening to.

today's song, the main title theme from Tomorrow Won't Come for those without.

youtube

i needed a reminder of what horrible liminality feels like, and that goddamn game does it better than anyone. i love it so much. thanks, etherane, your games cursed me with a sick desire for unreality.

special thanks to all the games who ever bullied me for having boring ass dreams.

#i wrote all this on copious amounts of caffeine #dreamscape au #omori dreamscape au #omori au #dreamscape #lucid dreams #sentience's stuff #i'm such a nightmare in this LMAOOO #i've written my own little chapter 12 lucidity within my analysis of chapter 12 #what have i become #omori fanfic #im a fucking mess #i think i lost my mind here #Youtube

13 notes · View notes

loverseon · 8 months

Text

SOUL SWAP .ᐟ teaser one

pairing female reader x ???

genre royal au, fantasy, kinda mystery ish

synopsis you wake up in a bedroom thats not your own. curtains that arent your own, bed thats not your own. a life thats not your own. no one around you seems to take you very seriously when you try and explain that youre… not exactly who they think you are. but hey, who are you to complain when everywhere you look theres a handsome man who wants you?

word count around 3k for this teaser, full fic tbd (around 20k+)

warnings none for this teaser angst, fluff, themes of death, suggestive (tbz being sexy what can i say) cursing, slow burn, gradual pairing reveal, will add more tags as we progress

part i. the dream of the golden bedroom

You woke with a startling gasp.

The bedsheets clenched tightly in your grasp; a lick of sweat travelling down your temple as you heave against the headboard. You could see the sliver of sunlight against the curtains through your closed eyes, could hear the gentle song of birds tittering outside – could feel a slow breeze snaking around your ankles and feet as they hung out of the blanket.

The dream had felt so vivid, so alive, that you swore you could still feel the biting wind against your neck and the sea in your hair. You counted your breathing as it tumbled off your tongue, one… two…

You were quite often purged with such coloured dreams, so waking with a start was not too uncommon a feeling, but there was something so gripping about this one that it had the room spinning beneath your eyelids as you grounded yourself.

Water.

Water was the best call for your dried throat, as it felt as though you had been screaming and it was raw and punished. The quilt caught on the mattress as you kicked it off your feet, placing them on the ground and hauling your body up and off the bed. The wooden grit of the floorboards rubbed against your cold toes and, when you searched to no avail for your slippers, you walked to the door, eyes still closed and head rattling.

The birds were louder now, singing and wailing as the breeze began to pick up and the sun climbed higher into the morning sky. You rubbed your eyes, opening them blindly and feeling along the wall for the light switch next to the bedroom door. The handle hit you suddenly and you winced, getting more agitated at your blindness against the sun and at the fact that you still could not find that goddamn switch.

A sound other than the birds caught your attention; a high, snivelling noise that sounded like metal shearing against metal and you stopped in your tracks. You willed your eyes open wide and forced them to adjust to your surroundings, ignoring the trickling pain in the back of your head at the sudden brightness.

Your foot caught the bed frame as you stumbled backwards.

The first thing you noticed was the gold.

Strips and beams of it everywhere, shining and glowing under the early sun, casting echoes of light all around the room so much that you wondered how your eyes hadn’t shut again already.

Everything so bright everywhere: the furniture, the windowsills, the nails in the gritty wooden floorboards all dipped in gold.

Then it was the height; windows that stretched across high walls, touching the ceilings and bending around the front of the room. Drapes twenty feet high spilled from the peak of the glass, billowing down and curling like white fire against the floor.

You could feel your heart pricking, could hear it pounding as you stood, unmoving, amidst it all. The metal noise was further away now, but you could still make out its presence. Were those… scissors?

Surely you were still dreaming – a lucid dream. Far greater than any you’d had before, but not an uncommon occurrence.

With trepidation, you took a few steps closer to the behemoth windows, a shaky hand reaching out in front of you to pull back the curtain that seemed almost alive as it greeted you and tangled your arm in its fabric.

The wind hit your hair, brushing it off your face as the birdsong appeared louder the closer you got to the window, before you finally peered out from behind the fabric and opened your eyes.

You couldn’t even feel yourself breathe.

Everywhere, as far as you could see, was green. Luscious grass and trees and meadows waved back at you, flowers of varying colours danced in the wind as you stood in silent awe. The metal shearing from before had returned to your ears and, as you looked down, you recognised them to be bush trimmers, and there, at their handle, was an arm attached, which led to a body – to a head, and you realised that there was an actual person you could see amongst all the foliage.

He cut the bushes slowly, intricately, creating little swirling curls in the pattern of the leaves, humming gently as he wiped the sweat from his wrinkled brow. You threw yourself back away from the curtain before he had the chance to look up and see you, breath catching in your throat.

This was definitely one of the more extravagant dreams you’d had in a while.

With nothing else to do but gawk at the bedroom, you crept back onto the bed, burying yourself in the plushness and staring up at the ceiling. You then realised that even there had a mural – nature paintings with a little pathway running all the way through the artwork.

There was a person painted on too, a little girl in a pink dress skipping her way through the pink roses with her pink shoes and, if you turned your head just enough, you could make out a large castle at the end of the pathway, all the way on the other side of the room. Like everything else, this palace was the epitome of nature: with green vines climbing its walls and those same pink flowers blooming at the foot of the castle entrance.

Feeling yourself becoming lost in the detail of the artwork, your eyes began to droop once again, all thoughts being forgotten as the softness of the pillows created a cradle for your head, your breathing becoming lighter as –

A knock comes upon the door and you startle yourself awake.

“Your Highness?” A voice called from beyond the gold, “Are you awake?”

At least the bedroom belonging to royalty explained the gold.

You didn’t answer, instead letting the person on the other side dwell in your silence. This was your dream after all, you could let it go however you willed it to.

So you sunk your head further down into the sheets, enjoying the birdsong and the thick blankets that shielded you from the chill in the air, assuming the voice would leave you alone again.

“Young mistress?” Your eyes opened again. Usually you had control over your maladaptive dreams, so why wasn’t this person going away?

“Your Highness, your breakfast is waiting.” They called softly with another rap at the door.

A beat of silence.

“Your Highness?”

This time you got out of the bed, skulking over to the door and hesitating before opening it a peep to finally see who was disturbing your dream.

A fresh-faced, pale girl, not that much older than you, stared back at you with doe eyes. A small smile fell onto her lips as you looked at her, pushing slightly against the door to usher you out. “Cook has prepared your breakfast for you, Your Highness! Earlier than usual, as you requested.”

Her voice was softer without the wooden barrier of the door and, as she leaned in, you realised she smelled like freshly picked berries.

“E-earlier than usual?” Was what you managed to say in response.

Your throat was raw and you were surprised to hear your own voice – you talking wasn’t something that happened often in dreams.

The girl paused, confusion flickering across her features for a second before her smile reappeared against her lips.

“After your lesson yesterday you complained the whole way back!” she giggles, “you said something about food never being ready when you want it, so I asked Cook if he could prepare it before you woke up so you wouldn’t have to wait!”

Now things were getting weird.

A lesson yesterday?

You’d never once had a dream that referenced something that had previously happened.

Everything was always happening in the present as you were dreaming it. They never had any kind of backstory or dimension to them before, just scenarios where you were living out a scene as it happened.

Before you get the chance to speak, another voice cuts through the silence.

“Y/N.” It calls, and you immediately feel the hair prick up at the back of your neck.

The girl in front of you lowers her head slightly at the voice just beyond the hall, just beyond your line of sight, and begins to retreat away from the door.

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” she squeaks, and then she’s gone.

“Y/N!” The voice says again, louder and closer. You’re about to place a hand on the door, to close your eyes and try to wake up when a much older woman steps into the bedroom.

Her shoes are tall and pointed, the body leading up and disappearing under the trim and lace of her green dress as she stands with one hand pointing at your chest.

Her hair dark and ebbing, pin-straight against the broad of her shoulder, save for a singular piece curled in a little ringlet at the base of her neck.

Her stark beauty pierces you in your spot.

“Darling,” she begins again, “whatever happened to you waking up early to catch breakfast?”

The petname eases your paralysis, but you don’t quite let your stiffness go yet and the tall woman sighs, almost floating as she moves around you to sit on the unmade bed.

“The physician told you that it would be good for your heart to stop getting up so late. I thought you promised me you’d start listening to him?”

Compared to her, you had not a single ounce of grace as you croaked back a small ‘what?’, continuously unmoving in your place by the door, a tired hand still holding the handle.

She sighs and runs deft fingers through her hair with a smile. Honestly, her beauty was unlike anything you’d seen before, and if you continued to gape at her you feel like your heart would start to become nervous.

“Come on,” she begins again, “make haste and get dressed. I’ll send in your ladies to prep you for the day.”

The woman goes to leave for the door, her hair trailing behind her as she walks back past you. With a soft hand against your cheek, she says, “I hope you haven’t forgotten about what today will mean for you.”

And then she’s gone. The door closes swiftly behind her, leaving you alone once more, with only the birdsong and the drifting sound of metal snipping in your ears.

What on earth is going on?

This dream has already gone on for longer than you’re used to, and the sensations are so intense you definitely could have mistaken them for reality, especially when a moment later, half a dozen women come piling into the room with dresses and jewellery and little ornate containers in their busying hands.

You don’t even get the chance to say anything before they’re all over you — fingers tangling in your hair, pulling and tugging against your clothes.

“What are you doing!” you say, feeling awfully bare in your new state. Without the warmth of your clothes, you can feel the biting chill of the air, the early sun doing nothing to fight against the new coldness in the room. “Stop it!”

Two of these new girls look at each other with a knowing glance and you can’t help but feel confused when they continue to pull at your hair, scraping it up and high off your face.

“What’s going on?” you cry, but it goes ignored as the swarm still continues to decorate you.

One of them walks over slowly, stopping behind you, just at the base of your feet, and you can feel cold fingers grazing against your neck. You shiver at the feeling.

Are your dreams usually this real? Can you normally feel the temperature of someone’s hand in them?

After a while of fussing, it all stops.

Your eyes had closed at some point during this, and all you can hear is their little shocked gasps and whispers and giggles as you assume they marvel at their creation.

You hear the floorboards creaking, and then the sound of something scraping across the wood before a small, “Open your eyes, Your majesty,” sounds across the room, “look in this mirror.”

When you do, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

There’s a dress slipping gently off the slope of your shoulders, high in the body before it waterfalls and tumbles all the way down until meeting the floor in swirling waves. It’s pink — the same ballerina hue you saw on the little girl in the ceiling mural, save for the white lace trim and pearl details that swan up and disappear in the fabric of the dress. The shoulders are puffed ever so slightly and curled underneath to taper against your waist, which is tucked in tightly by a pearled pink bodice.

In the mirror, you see half of your hair has been pinned back in gentle strands, with a few loose curls framing the edge of your face.

Speaking of, your cheeks are much softer than usual as you look into the mirror; your skin brighter and your eyes more lifelike than you’ve seen in a while.

The dark circles that usually pierced under your eyes have completely vanished, replaced instead with tiny layers of glitter that shine when you catch them in a ray of sunlight.

Thanks to existing in a struggling 21st century, your face has never looked as radiant as the one peeking back at you now.

It’s definitely your face, but you certainly wouldn’t recognise this woman if you saw her somewhere else.

The girl with the cold hands from before returns behind you again, and this time you’re able to catch a glimpse of her face in the glass — small, frail and beautiful, much like everything else you’ve seen in this dream so far.

She pulls something from one of the little boxes brought in before and, when you look back at yourself in the mirror, you see her placing the most beautiful golden necklace softly against your skin, clasping it closed before straightening it out in your reflection. Like the dress, the train of the necklace is created entirely of glowing pearls, shining in the sunlight and almost dripping onto your skin.

Right in the centre lies a small diamond, dainty and beautiful and matching the ones clipped into your ears.

Your eyes connect with the girl in the mirror, but it’s only a second before she’s looking away, head down and avoiding as she moves back to her spot with the other women.

“Now,” one of them says, clearly much older than the rest, “shall we take you down to breakfast?”

Your shoes echo as the ladies tunnel you down a drawn out hallway. Every step you feel as though you’re spiralling, tumbling down and down and away as you’re pushed through the manor.

Even out here everything is stained gold, the light fixtures, the tables, the flowers. Towering portraits hung on every wall, their frames dripping and glittering in the candle lights.

Men and women of luxury stared back at you in their watercolours, eyes strong, powerful, and seemingly alive.

The girls who accompanied you down this way hadn’t said a word throughout your journey, instead just holding the train of your dress as it floated behind you.

Honestly, the lace was starting to burn, and the bodice was getting too heavy against your waist but you felt like a princess, so you decided to humour the dream a little longer.

You must have walked for at least ten minutes before you arrived at anything other than gold and prying watercolour eyes.

When the ladies come to a stop, your breath catches.

Before you stood two huge doors, pretty little lines carved into wood and stone and gold. These doors are huge, towering twin oaks that make your neck creak as you look all the way up, the tops of them barely visible before they disappear into the ceiling.

You had no idea it possible for two inanimate objects to make you feel this unimportant, this small, especially in your own dream, but you didn’t have very long to think about it before the eldest woman in the group is giving the handle a firm push and encouraging you inside with a hurried whisper.

The doors swallow you up and your eyes are assaulted by a flush of bright sunlight. Quiet chatter blooms in your ears, but it silences when you fall into the room. With a less than graceful stumble, you hunch your dress and flatten your skirts, straighten your back because you think it’s the right thing to do in this scenario, and open your eyes.

A mistake.

There, before you, is a small audience. Two of them you don’t recognise, but one is the unnerving beauty from before, the one who had fussed over your health and pulled you from bed.

A few seats to her left is a round little man, his jaw square and eyes downturned as they set on you. The hair on his head is tufting, and it takes all you have not to laugh a little at the crumbs lining the collar of his tunic as he looks so seriously at you.

As you turn your attention to the other side of the table, however, all pretence leaves your mind and you let your jaw drop comically.

That’s…

the most beautiful man you think you’ve ever seen.

a/n DUN DUN DUNN hehe

thats it for the teaser! chapter one is still in the works so it doesnt have an estimated wc yet but bear with me!

thank u sm for all the support so far ><

until next time

#the boyz #the boyz au #tbz #tbz au #tbz angst #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #the boyz royal au #kpop au #the boyz fanfiction #royal au #fantasy #royal #the boyz fantasy au #the boyz fanfic

11 notes · View notes