#this is kinda concluded based on how much i liked watching them + how i felt about them throughout | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writersdrug · 11 months ago

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Nectar and Bane - Pt. 1

Pairings: Hunter!König x Witch!Reader

Pt. 2

Summary: König is hired to hunt down a pesky witch by a warlock, who paints you as the most evil thing in the past three centuries. With the promise of finding true love (or, the closest thing the warlock can offer: a brainwashed woman who is forced to dote on the hunter), König sets out on his journey. However, you aren't what he was expecting at all, and he develops a newfound obsession with making you become his.

Warnings: dubcon, mentions of rape, manipulation, kidnapping, sex pollen (kinda? If you squint? not really, but better safe than sorry), corruption kink, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of consuming human organs, unrequited pining, angst at the end, death (not for main characters), cowgirl, missionary, mating press, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, power imbalance, handjob, obsessive thoughts and behaviour (please let me know if I missed any!)

Notes: thought I'd try my hand a fantasy au version of cod, or at least of König. This is really long (over 15000 words) so I split it into two parts. The next part is pretty much done, I'm just exhausted and wanted to at least crank out half. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt 2!

ps if anyone has any suggestions or tips on how to make collages or banners for fics, pleeeaseeee lmk

translations at the end

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Watch your every step. From the moment you step foot into those woods, you can’t trust anything you see.

That’s what the sorcerer had drilled into his head before he had begun his journey. He called you dangerous, cunning… “A sneaky, meddling bitch…” he had grumbled over the table in that crowded tavern.

Two small pouches, one of silver, one of gold, sat in between the two patrons on the table. Stains of ale and coffee rings littered the unvarnished wood. The wax of the thick candle had trickled down and formed small, hardened pools at the base – its flame flickered weakly, casting unflattering shadows against the man’s weathered features, and making the portentous hood covering König’s face only that much more ominous.

He'd listened warily as the sorcerer described the witch – you. Tens of centuries old, too much knowledge and too little wisdom to use it sensibly. You take whatever you want by whatever means possible, and your favored method was using your physical assets and the promise of sexual devotion to coerce those within your web to do your bidding. “Sometimes it’s for her personal gain – sometimes, she does it for fun.” The warlock added bitterly. “Akin to a serpent, she winds you into her embrace, and then crushes your bones before she swallows you whole, saving your heart for last.” You’d done it to him, ensnaring him into your alluring trap, before stealing his spellbooks, his potions, his most prized collections… and vanishing into thin air.

An enchantress, König had concluded.

The warlock’s request? “Kill her. And be quick with it. The sooner this earth is rid of that swine, the sooner we can all rest. And, better yet – bring me her eyes! Potent things, witches’ eyes can be – of course, that is if they’re still working. If the bitch has gone blind, don’t waste dulling your dagger. A handful of her hair would do just fine.”

König had killed much worse for much less, and this sounded like it would be on the simpler side of things. A few days’ worth of hunting and a quick, efficient kill – hopefully, one of his easier jobs, although with the way the sorcerer described you, that might not be. He’d dealt with magicians before; up until now, they had been rather boring to hunt – tedious, but nonetheless, boring. Most of the time, they tried to end him with some elaborate incantation in the few seconds remaining of their life after he’d ambushed them. His silver blade would be slicing across their throats before they could utter five syllables. They were always so intent on murdering their victims slowly and in a flashy manner. With König’s preference for a more immediate result, he was usually the one collecting the fingernails, teeth, and tongues.

(Over time, he’d had noticed that it was always sorcerers ordering the assassination of other sorcerers. He wondered why they had so much of an issue amongst themselves, but he didn’t question it. Whatever kept him fed and paid for his room, he would do it.)

The picture the warlock was painting of you, however, made you seem much craftier and more calculated. You couldn’t resist the glamorous ways of murder via magic – it was written in your nature as a witch. But you played the game with your charisma and wit, too; something magic users didn’t typically rely on (half of the time, because they weren’t charismatic, nor witty). You waited until your assailant would fall to your wicked charm, before dissecting him like nothing more than a toad for your cauldron. If not an easy kill, you at least sounded like you would be an exciting one – but König knew he could get something more from this client for killing you.

“What more can you offer me?” he asked.

The warlock chuckled. “The gold is insufficient, is it?” he leaned forward and hunched his shoulders, speaking in a hushed tone. “Tell me, what do you desire? Recognition and respect? Revenge against someone who’s crossed you? To bring back a loved one from the dead? Or, perhaps, to find a love of your own?”

König’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of the warlock’s utterances fell on deaf ears. Could he possibly give him a chance to find himself someone to love? Someone that he and only he can worship? It was true that he would be happier to live alone, in whatever way that would allow him to be independent of society… but the thought of being able to live alone with someone, someone who was devoted to him, someone who could decorate his hut with signs of life and warmth, someone with a kind smile and a sweet voice, someone who he could spend hours upon hours with, memorizing each curve of their body, the taste of their nectar on his tongue…

He called it love. Others would call him insane. He’d heard it all before – how no one would ever love him, given his profession, his awkwardness in carrying a conversation about anything normal other than how sharp his knives are, and how he uses them… that, and the fact that he never shows his face (“He must be hideous under there…” they would speculate). Nonetheless, he still craved the devotion of an obedient, warm body waiting for him in his cabin at the end of the day – once he did get a cabin. Why should he be denied what everyone else wants?

He knew he was a hypocrite; he couldn’t expect someone else to be so willing to leave everything and run away with him. Not with his insane ideations and obsessions – hell, not with who he was as a person. But if he killed enough healthy rabbits to keep her fed, and if he fucked her hard enough that her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn’t muster enough strength to escape the mattress… would she ever care about what kind of man he was?

The warlock smiled slowly. “Of course… that’s what all of you sick bastards want.” He said, leaning back and folding his arms. “If it will seal our contract, I will give you whichever woman you choose. I’ll make her yours, and only yours, with unconditional love – even for your damned soul.”

A fair deal, König had thought. Which is exactly what had him currently trudging through the dense woods, searching for any traces of a witch – a sack with two loaves of bread and some apples hung over his shoulder, along with his well-worn tashka stuffed with the coin he had earned over time. His sword was strapped to his hip in its sheath, his dagger (a short sword, when it was compared to the average person) stuffed into the lead-lined, deerskin sheath on the side of his boot; and a pelt, heavy and thick, hung around his shoulders. All he had to his name.

König had done a day of research on you – testimonies and sightings of you ghosting the perimeter of the woods at an early age, hoping to lure some poor soul away as your very first victim. “I imagine she was a succubus in her previous life,” the warlock had spoken, “maybe too much of a whore for even the devil to handle.”

He had caught you one night by luring you to his cabin with the scent of a savory meal. Guessing by your inexperience, and the way you avoided using words as you snarled and thrashed in the warlock’s grip, he assumed you had not yet reached one hundred years old. You were still young and fresh-faced, appearing no more than twenty to human eyes. “After a few decent meals, and reintroducing her to the work of her past life – she’d settled in as the perfect student. It almost felt like having a pet.” He added with a smug smile.

König questioned how happy you were with being reintroduced to the work of your past, but he didn’t comment on it.

After living with the warlock as his student and whore for a few centuries, you turned into a strong, young witch. You didn’t care to go into town, preferring to stay at the cabin and watch over the brews whenever he had to make deliveries or run to the shops. The warlock had no complaints about your desire to stay holed up in his home – fewer people to ogle at you, fewer glimpses into a more civilized life that might tempt you to run away. He’d much rather you be a brooding, antisocial bitch, than watch one of his clients stare at you with a yellowed, lustful grin, like you were some harlot in the window of a brothel.

On one particular day, without any indication of what you were planning, he had returned home from his rounds to an empty cabin – not just empty of you, but of his potion stock, his rarest ingredients, and his most prized spellbooks. He’d run into the woods in fury, screeching your name and hurling threats into the trees around him – but you were gone. Not a trace of you could be found within a five mile radius of his home.

It was like you had never been there, save the absence of his personal belongings.

In König’s opinion, you didn’t strike him as an extremely dangerous individual. Sure, the warlock had harped on and on about how cunning and deceiving you were – but all you had done was lie to him. And from the way he had described the conditions you were under, König didn’t exactly blame you for running away. Maybe this job was a waste of his time…

Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain, despite the nip of the mid-autumn air, and the fact that he was embarking on what might be one of the most treacherous endeavors of his career. He was getting a decent payout for it – that is, if he lived to finish the job. Additionally, the scenery was a comfort to his journey; wiry birch trees stood high and thickly clustered, their brown and black spots like ever-watchful eyes, staring at the gargantuan hunter as he moved. Their golden leaves mimicked the light of the sun, the real thing blocked out by the overcast skies. A whisper of wind flew by his ears, carrying down and blowing the leaves further along his path with a gentle sigh. As if nature herself was telling the world to be quiet, be still, and prepare for winter.

It was times like this where König became unsure of himself. What if he hated having someone else to care for? What if, deep down, he preferred the silence and the solitude? But then, the loneliness would strike him. The longing to be understood (if that was humanely possible), and the desire to have something warm, alive, and sentient to acknowledge him. It consumed him on those sleepless nights, perfectly warm by the hearth of whatever inn he resided at, yet so hollow without having someone to wrap his arms around.

A swaying movement in the branches above pulled him from his thoughts. Hanging down by a twine thread, tied to one of the spindling birch branches, was a tiny, burlap pouch. It reached a few feet above König’s head, and was drenched in a dark, thick liquid that dripped rhythmically onto the forest floor. Looking to where the drops landed, he noticed the matter on the ground was decaying – a steaming pile of rot was all that was left of the leaves that were once there.

He frowned. The trap was clever – for a witch in their first century. König had expected something a bit more dangerous for someone your age. Maybe the last hunter had been too gullible, and you stereotyped them to all be oafs. Or, maybe you were too old and couldn’t craft traps with the same skill and precision as your younger self.

He drew his dagger from his boot and quickly sliced the twine thread. The pouch dropped to the floor with a squelch, landing in the very puddle of death it had created. The liquid beneath it bubbled and hissed, and the bag soon dissolved to reveal its contents: bits of bone – a kind of reptilian foot, from the looks of it – dried pomegranate seeds, and a fuzzy layer of mold, all appearing to be drenched in some kind of blood.

He carefully stepped around the stinking mess, his eyes turning back onto the path to continue his hunt. He both hoped for and against finding more evidence of your existence. He wanted to get back to town as soon as he could, so he could hole himself up in an inn until his money began to run out – all the same, his mind craved a puzzle and a chase. Though, with how old you were, he doubted there would be much of a chase.

More leaking, swaying hex bags hung from branches as he trudged on, pointing him in the right direction. He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the leaves beneath his footsteps – the rustling of the wind through the foliage was doing the job well enough. He held onto his dagger tightly, his other hand on his longsword, as he carefully toed through the dense forest. He had to be close – the smell of fennel and turmeric settled around his presence, along with the babbling of a nearby stream.

The sound of a distant tune danced through the trees. The voice was soft, yet clear, and whoever it belonged too was much too confident that they were alone in these woods. König wondered if it was actually you, and not some poor soul who had been foraging for the autumn mushrooms and berries – but he was nearly a day’s trek into the forest. No one would dare come out this far, unless they wanted to be alone. And, they were potentially hiding from something; their own past, perhaps.

He cautiously followed the sound of the tune, still disguising the sound of his own steps within the rustling leaves and wind. His heart thrummed with both uncertainty and excitement; he always did get too thrilled at the idea of a struggle and blood covering his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, focusing his attention on the voice that carried through the trees, pulling him closer and closer… He gripped his dagger tightly as he crept, reminding himself of the warlock’s warning: cunning, sneaky – be on your best wits.

The voice brought him to the edge of a clearing. The birch trees parted and encircled a few meters of earth, and a few bushes huddled along the far edge, dotted with purplish berries and thorned branches. A wicker basket, woven clumsily and rather lopsided, sat on the ground and caught each berry and branch that was tossed into it. A figure knelt in front of the bushes, carefully plucking the berries with thin, delicate fingers, stained purple from the juice of the berries, and nails that might need a trim soon, unless they were intended to be claws.

The cloaked figure confused König. The voice was too melodic, too clear and fresh for an old witch. He had assumed you weren’t much younger than the warlock, but still old. He remained a few yards away from you, shrouded by the trees and dense foliage outside of the clearing.

It was when you turned your head, dropping your handful of berries into the basket, revealing your face, that he realized how wrong he had been in his assumption.

Your skin was soft, he could tell even with the distance between the two of you. Your lips delicately moved as you sang your tune, your eyes sparkled in contrast to the dull autumn colors that surrounded you. Small wisps of your hair danced around your cheeks as the wind caressed it. Your entire body looked soft, warm, and pliable… exactly what he needed. Craved.

It wasn’t hard for him to imagine it: leaves tangling into your hair as he pressed his fingers around your neck, pushing you to the cold ground and watching as you gasped for air. He’d use his knife, but not to kill you. He’d drag it over your hardened nipples, watching them perk up even more at the prickling sensation, before he’d carve his name into your stomach. Smear your pretty blood all over your pretty face, watch as your eyes widen with horror, as you question how someone can be so deranged and cruel, how he can take so much pleasure in something so vile and horrible-

Or maybe, he could convince you that he just wants a fuck. You looked like you could use one – when was the last time you’d had someone’s lips on your breasts, or their cock in your cunt? It had certainly been too long for him… he couldn’t imagine how long you had gone without being thoroughly ravaged, living in these woods all alone. He could take care of that. He could be gentle, for a little while; holding your wrists above your head as he pushed you against a tree, whispering praise and encouragements into your ear, “… so gut, so Schön, genau so…” taking you from behind as your nipples perked up from the rough texture of the bark, listening to you whine and moan in that sweet voice of yours as he lets out months’ worth of pent up frustration by thrusting his cock into your warm pussy, over and over and over until you scream and tighten around his length, milking the cum right out of him as he fucks you deep, maybe sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck-

He growled quietly, palming his rapidly-growing erection as he tried to clear his head. Stay focused. Kill the witch, and then you’ll get what you want.

Remember the warlock’s promise.

Even if he didn’t need you to satisfy his needs, he could still make this interesting. Not like you could outrun him, anyway.

He stepped into the clearing, and as if by some ironic joke, the wind died down immediately. The crunch of his heavy boots was enough to make his presence known to any living thing within a mile radius.

Your singing stopped. You whipped your head in his direction, and immediately a look of fear fell upon your face. For a moment, the two of you were frozen in a staring contest. You reminded him of a doe, staring at the crossbow of the hunter you had noticed, wondering if this being was actually dangerous, or nothing you needed to worry about. He wondered what he must remind you of, and he wished to hear the panicking thoughts flitting through your mind.

Finally, you broke the trance – you gasped, stumbling backwards and awkwardly standing as you ripped a pathetic, little knife from your boot. You faced him and pointed the knife at him – you held it improperly, and if he truly wanted to make this messy, he could easily make you stab yourself in a struggle. He wondered what it would feel like when your nails dug into his rough skin, dragging marks down his forearms (or his back, if he played his cards right).

You pulled the thick cloak tighter around your body – you were tiny. Well, everything was tiny compared to König. But you were unexpectedly small. With the way the sorcerer had described you, he had expected you to reach his shoulders at least. But there you were, craning your neck to look up at him with fearful, owlish eyes.

“State your business!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly.

König chuckled in response. You really were too pathetic for your own good, weren’t you? He took you in – your lips were pulled into a frown, parted slightly to reveal your perfect teeth, the way the fabric of your cloak quivered where it bunched in your fist… perfectly ordinary things that ordinary people do. But, besides the fact that you were a witch, something about you made it all so captivating.

“Hey!” you shouted, bringing his eyes back to your gaze. Your fear had given way to a judgmental ire. “Gods, have you ever seen a woman before?!”

König scoffed. “Woman? Yes, of course. I’ve seen witches, too. None as young as you, however.”

Your eyes widened in panic once again. You stretched your knife out towards him as he stalked over to where you stood. “S-stay back! I’ll kill you!”

Your meek threat didn’t slow him down. He continued his advance until he had corralled you against a tree, your one hand bracing against the trunk behind you, and the other holding the knife under his ribcage. The only thing between his flesh and your blade was his linen tunic, which wouldn’t do much to protect him should you decide to stab him – but were you capable of that? Your eyes were so filled with fear as they stared at him, your chin to the sky to take all of him in. Your fingers trembled around the handle of your knife as if the prospect of having to nick him made you uneasy.

“Not with magic?” he asked, his eyes flitting to the bush next to you. He plucked one of the berries between his thick, gloved fingers, rolling the onyx sphere between his thumb and middle finger before squashing it.

You pouted (a sight König could never grow tired of). “I’m not a wi-“

He snatched your forearm, and you yelped, dropping the knife to the forest floor. His fingers easily wrapped around you; he wondered how easy it would be to break it.

“Don’t lie, now.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance. “You’re not good at it.”

He released your arms with a shove. You scrambled back with a fearful expression, swiping the blade from the ground. He watched with interest as you stood several yards away from him, pointing your weapon towards him once again.

“Fine.” You said, holding yourself a bit taller. “You’re right. What’s the crime in that?”

For a moment, König was lost. Why weren’t you trying to weaponize your magic? It was almost as if you had forgotten you weren’t a human. For someone who was supposed to be a cunning bitch, as the warlock had put it, you weren’t very smart.

“I’m not here for justice.” He replied, wiping his glove on his shirt. “Just doing my job.”

“Hunter?” you asked.

He extended his arms – gods, he could have crushed a pillar between those arms – as if presenting himself to you. “Was it not obvious?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.

You huffed. “Well, you’re not a very good one. Most hunters don’t make conversation with their prey.”

Prey. He liked that you understood your position, that he was the one in charge here. Maybe you were a clever girl…

“I like to listen to the begging.”

“Begging?”

“For your life.” König folded his arms over his chest, inspecting you closely. The only thing you had to protect yourself was your cloak, and that hardly provided a shield against the wind. Even though you were obviously wary of him, it wasn’t wary enough. You had spoken too many words with the hunter, and had it been anyone else, you might have been dead long before now.

You seemed malleable – book-smart and spitfire, yet all too gullible. Easily manipulated. Just what he needed to brainwash you into loving him. Or, at least, being his pet. You’d never truly love him, he had come to learn that from experience. But maybe, if he could somehow convince you that you needed a big, scary man, who could protect you and fuck you nicely, it would be enough to make you stay. After all, you were too naïve to be alone out here, weren’t you?

Could the warlock perhaps make you his prize? It’d kill two birds with one stone, he could convince you to return whatever knickknacks you had stolen, and your presence would never bother anyone ever again – besides him, but of course, it would never be a bother to bed you every night.

Your expression turned sour. “I don’t beg.”

The tone of your voice sent a shiver down his cock. He’d have to pound that little attitude right out of you.

“Who hired you?” You asked indignantly. The knife in your hand had slowly lowered, now pointing at his feet. Your initial fear seemed to have worn off. Were you brave, or just that stupid?

“It doesn’t matter.” König replied.

“It does to me.”

“You don’t know? How many people have you wronged?”

You scoffed. “I haven’t wronged anyone. People just don’t like it when you call them out on their atrocities.”

König hummed. You had a point. “Your teacher – the warlock.”

For a moment, you scrunched your face in disgust. Teacher. Only a fool as mad as the warlock himself could consider he was any such figure in your life, other than a torturous one. Then, you sighed, shoulders slumping defeatedly, the knife now aimed straight at the forest floor. “That old toad can’t even kill me himself…” you muttered. “What payment did he offer you?”

“He promised me anything I desired of your possessions.” König replied, taking note of the change in your presence. He purposely left out the warlock’s promise to find him a “companion.”

“And what would you do with cursed fig seeds, or stag’s blood?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest (which, König noted, framed your breasts perfectly). “I have no gold – not enough to be a reward for the trouble of killing me.”

“He gave me three hundred gold coin, too.”

Your lips turned down into a scowl. “That’s all?! That absolute hypocrite!” You lodged your knife into the tree behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I took everything from him, save that disgusting old shed he called home, and that’s all he’ll pay to kill me?!”

Your outburst pulled König from his obsessive staring. “You’re… insulted?”

You turned back to him and huffed. “Well, obviously.” You retorted. “I stole all he had to his name, and he treats me like a fly buzzing in his ear. I deserve a bit more recognition than three hundred gold coin.”

“You admit to it, then.” König said, stepping closer. You appeared to be too angry to notice how near the hunter was to you. “You are a thief.”

You laughed – a sound that König did not expect to be so sweet. “I’ve done much worse than thieving, mind you.” You shook your head. “And he’s done even worse to me.” You sighed, pulling the dagger from the tree trunk and sheathing it back into your boot.

Once again, he was reminded of how small you were. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Sure, you had the advantage of magic while he did not, but you weren’t even acting defensively anymore. You treated him like a traveler who had stumbled across your path, starting up conversation and sharing your story.

“What has he done?” he asked, his interest in you growing by the second. An outcast, despised, hated by others. He felt that the two of you were kindred spirits, and he would not risk losing a connection so rare – one he had never felt.

“You mean he didn’t even tell you?” you said, sounding more hurt than anything else.

“He did.” König sheathed his own dagger as a peace offering. “But I’m coming to think he was not entirely truthful.”

You sighed, looking down at your basket, then back at König. “I suppose I could tell you, since he brought you all this way to kill me. Walk with me – but keep your dagger away. And if you try anything, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”

He suppressed the urge to laugh. Could you even reach his throat? “The warlock said you would lure me away to your hut, and carve out my heart.”

You huffed disappointedly, walking back to the bush near König. Completely calm, like he had only ever come up to you with the intention of finding a friend. “And yet, he’s still alive, after all the chances I had to kill him. We can stay outside of my hut, if it eases your mind. I’ll let you make your own tea, too. But if you aren’t set on killing me right this minute, I really should return to start drying these out.” You held up your basket. “Before too much time passes, and I can no longer use them.”

König had never given his prey more than a few moments to try and beg their way out of his crushing hands. He couldn’t believe he had even given so much lenience to your baseless trust in him – what he should have done was take the opportunity to grab your face and snap your neck. But he was starting to doubt the warlock’s testimony; you were a thief, yes, but had you really committed any crime? Or were you simply just taking the revenge you deserved from your captor – or, as the warlock called himself, your master?

König sighed. He gestured his hand out, signaling for you to lead the way.

You frowned. “First, give me your word.” You demanded.

“I will not harm you.” He said, with a hand over his heart. He didn’t care about forcing you to make the same promise – you were harmless enough. He did, however, make sure to avoid saying that he wouldn’t touch you. Although he was developing a few ounces more of respect for you, who knows? Maybe you would find a reason to drag him into your hut and satisfy both of your needs – and, if he was lucky enough to get that far, maybe you’d offer for him to spend the night in a warm bed, and he could be saved from sleeping on the cold earth for one night.

His word seemed promising enough to you. Threading your arm through the handle of the basket, you began marching through the woods, watching the ground carefully as you stepped over roots and twigs.

König followed by your side, watching you from the corner of his eye. You really were helpless – all it would take is a strong push from him, and you’d be tumbling down, maybe hitting your head on a stone, or rolling down the mountainside until your neck snapped. Even if the fall didn’t kill you, he could easily land one hit to your chest and pierce your lungs with your own ribs. But here you were, worrying more about the uneven forest floor than the lumbering creature by your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked, pulling him from his fantasies. “About the beginning, when he took me.”

König laughed in pity. “He made it sound like he caught you, not that he took you.”

You sighed. “He didn’t catch me… well, I suppose he did. More like how animals are caught.” You adjusted your grip on the basket, still watching the ground beneath you. “I was the botanist’s assistant before he came along. Stared at me like I was naked. He would come more often than he needed to - asked me where I was from, who my father was – things I didn’t understand why he needed to know. I still don’t.”

König didn’t understand himself. He continued to listen, the sounds of his footsteps drowning out your quiet ones. He began to wonder just how much of the warlock’s testimony was true.

“He came to the shop one night.” You continued to recount the story. “I was lighting the lanterns in the greenhouse. It was storming, and I didn’t hear him. He bludgeoned me and dragged me into the streets like I was some sort of animal.” You paused, turning your own words over in your head. “I suppose I was, to him.

He brought me back to his cabin – that’s when he started the curse. All I remember when waking up is feeling sick. I tried to stand, but it- everything felt heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I managed to crawl outside, and he was there. Saying my father wouldn’t recognize me, that he had killed the old lady at the botanist, that everyone would think that I had killed her… that I would be burned if I returned to the village. That I would forever be an outcast as long as I lived – as a witch. As what he made me.”

You paused again, for longer this time. König looked down at you, observing how your face twisted in… disgust? Anger? Your eyes were somewhere else, possibly somewhere where you could light the world on fire, drain the life from everyone who had ever done you wrong. König had felt that same hatred before, and he had learned to let it pass. You were still stuck there, wishing you could drive a blade into the warlock’s neck – and more.

“You stayed, then?” König asked, returning his gaze to the trees before him. “Why?”

You scoffed. “It’s not like I could go anywhere, not during the change. For the first fortnight, I couldn’t do anything but crawl on the ground and wail. And he let me – I’d get to the edge of the woods, and he’d be there to drag me back. Drug me into the hut at night and held me, fucked me, saying he was protecting me and similar bullshit. Of course, he was right; at that moment, I was as good as dead if I had ventured out on my own. And once I’d gotten my strength back, I was still a new witch. I’d never be accepted into the village – witches never are, despite the warlocks being the vile ones – and I had no idea how to live as one. So I relied on him for a while, until I knew enough to make it out on my own.”

König hummed in thought. Despite the initial desire to snatch you himself and have his way with you, his fists clenched at the thought of you being dragged around by the warlock. This life wasn’t one you had chosen, and yet the very person who had forced it upon you was killing you for it. It made something within him boil, something deep and buried, that he had thought had been tucked away for good.

You didn’t deserve any of this. He was fighting with himself in that moment, but the desire to show you what you should have been given was consuming him. He wanted to tell you that he knew what it was to be an outcast, he knew what it was like to feel lonely and crave being alone at the same time. To wish that you had the power to hurt anyone you deemed deserving of it, yet to have that someone who would never hurt you.

He would do it. He would be that person for you, he would be the one to kill for you. He knew he was getting ahead of himself – after all, he was hired to kill, you, not fall for you. And he knew it was just another one of his delusional fantasies… but he couldn’t help himself. You were like him, which was something that he had not yet been able to find. Something primal in him told him to sink his teeth in, to hold onto you until you stopped your struggling and realized that this would be good, for the both of you.

He was insane. But did it matter what he was, as long as he could give you what you needed?

“So, yes-“ you continued, bringing König out from the depths of his thoughts. “- I stole from him. Took the books he used to teach me, maybe a few ingredients for potions, a few seeds to start my own garden… but compared to what he took from me, I might as well have taken a loaf of bread.”

You stopped suddenly, and König came to a halt beside you. You nodded your head to the scene before you. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

König looked ahead: the trees parted into another clearing, larger this time. A rickety hut leaned against a wall of rock, made of thin, birch logs and mud slathered on top to keep out the wind. In the center of the clearing was a large stone, positioned near a pile of ash and rocks. A log lay near it, possibly another place for someone to sit. A small garden sat closer to the creek before your hut – it didn’t look to be doing very well, but that was expected as winter approached.

By the creek, there was a large, twisted oak. Its roots hung directly off of the bank and down into the water. Its leaves had fallen to the earth and mingled with the rest of the foliage by now – the entire thing had crimson paths winding around it, hauntingly similar to blood-filled veins. Several pieces of clothing and fabric hung from the branches and swayed in the autumn wind.

As you marched ahead, placing your basket down by the makeshift firepit and disappearing into the hut, König took a few, cautious steps forward. He was both charmed by the simplicity of it, and despondent that you were forced into this lonesome sort of life. He wanted to drag you from this measly hovel and show you something better.

But how? He was no better off than you were. All his earnings were spent on a room at the nearest tavern and a decent amount of ale to help him fall asleep. He never cared about having a home, as long as he had a place to keep out the cold. He didn’t think it would be good enough to drag you back to the village and convince you to spend the night with him in a thin-walled, noisy inn… but, even if he didn’t end up killing you today (something that seemed more and more likely with each passing second), he refused to leave you in this hell. If it was a cozy cabin, built so far away from civilization for the sole purpose of privacy and comfort, he could understand. Maybe even plead his case to you so you would let him stay. But this – this was a last resort. A broken down spot in the woods that you made for your banishment, for hiding. This wouldn’t do.

Call him insane. Call him crazy, hopeless, sick in the head… maybe his desires were founded on the thought that he would give you what he had never received.

You emerged from your hut, the thin, wooden door clanging shut behind you. You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why was he still standing at the edge? You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and made your way over to him, your hair blowing across your face.

He watched as you stopped in front of him, your brow creased with question. Your head tilted back to look up at him, yet any traces of fear that you had shown earlier were gone. You looked at him like you’d known him for the past hundred years. It made his heart ache within his chest.

How could anyone have painted such a wretched picture of the woman who stood before him?

“Is everything alright?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said before, if you’d rather we stay outside-“

König interrupted you, reaching down and grabbing the sides of your arms firmly. You sucked in a breath warily, but you were still not afraid of him.

“I- you-“ Scheisse, what is he trying to say? He wanted to take you away, he wanted to show you how similar the both of you were to each other, he wanted to show you what (he thought) love was – slow, gentle, possessive, and strong. He wanted to keep you in his pocket, both to keep you safe from the world, and to make sure you couldn’t be taken from him. He wanted you, you, you –

This is insanity. He knew it. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest, and the questionable throbbing in his trousers.

You knew. Your eyes said everything as they softened, as your lips pressed together into a knowing, sad smile. Were you going to turn him down? Would you say that you preferred it this way, that you liked being alone and living like a prisoner on the run? You took his face in his hands, and he had a foreboding sense in his gut that you might tell him to leave.

Quickly but gently, he cupped one hand at the back of your neck and pulled himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours before you could speak. It was only right, he thought, as he held the kiss – you didn’t understand that he could help you, he could build the life you deserved and keep you safe from any other hunters and warlocks. He placed his other hand on your lower back and pulled you in, moving his lips against your own and praying you wouldn’t deny him.

Like an angel answering his prayers, you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes and kissing him back. He tugged his teeth at your bottom lip, and you so graciously allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, letting him taste you. He whined, flooded with relief that you didn’t try to shove him away and call him deranged.

His cock was quickly growing hard, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to figure out exactly what he needed to say to make you-

A raven’s call tore through the air, piercing his thoughts. It was much too close than any bird would naturally be.

He tried to turn his head in its direction, but you dug your fingers into his hair, making him stutter and freeze on the spot. He grabbed your hips, about to pry you away-

You pressed your lips firmly to his, and he heard you faintly muttering incoherent words against him. The world around him was suddenly showered with colors: purples like the berries that had stained your fingers, oranges like the leaves that were scattered across the ground, silvers like the thick clouds that blanketed across the sky… The black spots on the birch trees suddenly blinked and flitted across his vision; thousands of them stared at him, and he heard your sweet laughter echoing in the distance as the world spun, spun, spun…

He felt the cold earth press to his cheek, and the last thing he remembered was a sickening ache in his stomach.

He should have heeded the sorcerer’s warning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"… so gut, so Schön, genau so…”

... so good, so beautiful, just like that...

#konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x yn #konig cod #konig fanfiction #fantasy au konig #cod fantasy au #cod x reader #konig x reader smut #konig smut #konig nsfu

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

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IDEAS? I GOT YOU!!!

ok so this just came to me as I was reading your response but VAMPIRE READER MY BELOVED!!!!

Hear me out! Plot point I imagine:

It’s a full moon lily goes out to the forbidden forest (this could be before lily finds out about Remus being a werewolf or maybe she had to go get something and she’s only on the outskirts of the forest ) she’s trying to get what she needs quickly and efficiently as it is late and well forbidden. She hears something lurking around her but she can’t tell from which direction. Is it a deer? A bunny? Another person? She doesn’t really want to find out so instead she quickly and quietly decides to get the hell out of there but before she can successfully leave the forest MOONY JUMPS OUT! Lilly stumbles back before booking it in the other direction not thinking about anything besides “get the fuck away from the danger” moony is gaining fast but before he can catch her JAMES COMES TO THE THE RESCUE! he shoves moony aside and tries to keep moony away from lily. At first lily stares at the stag in shock because holy shit this giant stag just saved me but as moony tries to claw at her and the stag bellows (is that what it’s called?) she remembers her need to run and starts running again. But uh oh! Her ankle is twisted! So now she’s hobbling away as fast as she can cursing under her breath because she’s too smart to get herself into such a dumb situation like this!

Now there’s only so much James can do against moony by himself but he tries his damn hardest before moony gets out of his hold and starts chasing after Lily again this time with James hot on his tail. James yet again shoves moony aside and they tussle on the ground as lily is just inches away watching in horror as the stag who saved her gets throw into a tree. This is it she thinks. This is how I die. As the stag calls out a pained cry and as she closes her eyes accepting her early demise……nothing. Wait nothing? Quickly she opens her eyes to see someone in front of her. READER! Who in their right mind would fight a werewolf? How is this person fighting a werewolf bare handed? She stares up at this mystery person and can only see so much. because of the darkness theses not enough to she can conclude about this person but she can tell they went to hogwarts based on the clothes they’re wearing. As she continues to stare in shock she notices the person is holding the werewolf back by its jaw. Drool dripping down the persons arms. The stag is watching in shock or confusion? It’s hard to tell knowing he’s probably concussed.

The mystery person tells lily to run. She can see the persons canines and is appalled at how sharp they are. Are those fangs? She wonders. But before she can ask out loud they yell for her to run as they throw the werewolf back at least a couple feet and without a second thought she runs as fast as her sprained ankle can handle. Hearing grunts and growls in the distance. She runs as she hears screams. She runs until she reaches hogwarts. She runs until she reaches the gryfindor common room. She runs until she reaches her dorm room. She slides down the door and try’s to catch her breath closing her eyes until she ends up falling asleep against the door.

This was long and probably really shitty but hear me out. you can take this and make it like 10 times better it’d be amazing!

OK IM GONE!!! 🏃‍♀️

BRO I LOVE THIS!

AND it could totally be the beginning of the story as well. We could INTRODUCE the reader like this and start it with Lily's POV. I mean omniscient but focusing on her, and then from there build up until that point and the moment she sees the reader she can have a mini sexuality crisis bc HOW can this hot person do this?

But also, I kinda dig the idea that Remus would absolutely love the reader on a platonic kind of way because OMG there IS someone in the world that could actually fucking control Moony and they would become besties bc neither of them asked to be what they are and it'd be so freaking interested in exploring that side of the story as well.

AND since I AM writing vampires for the last Maraudween I feel like I'm actually going to have enough practice to be able to make this one happen ufff.

AND THE NAME?!?!? We could have a super meta name for the story bc Vampires are already super cool and did I mention to you guys I'm currently reading Dracula? I'm SOOOOO ready for this one!

#marauders x reader #Jilly x reader #james x lily #lily evans x you #lily evans x y/n #lily evans x reader #james potter x reader #james x lily x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #the marauders x you #marauders #the marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #jily x reader #poly marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly marauders x reader

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littlexscarletxwitch · 2 years ago

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Hi!!!!! I hope you’re doing well!! I really like the way you write, I was hoping to request a fic with either Wanda or Natasha, or both if you vibe with it, and F! avenger reader with a whole bunch of pining. Maybe they go on a mission and one of them runs into like a sex pollen/ aphrodisiac that really makes them crave their crush and enhances preexisting feelings for that person. You can totally ignore this if you’re not comfortable with the idea, I appreciate you either way!!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

paring: wandanat x fem!avenger!reader

tag(s): nsfw, smut with no plot, sex pollen, insatiable r (or at least I tried), wanda and nat doing whatever r needs

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit smut, wlw sex, vaginal fingering (r receiving), mouth riding (r receiving) thigh riding (r receiving), tit sucking, slight blood kink (?), kinda dom!reader, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 2.2k

note: Half way through writing this fic I was like "Wait, is this supposed to be smut. I mean it's sex pollen so it has to right?" and I'm still not sure but I just went with it lol. AAAAH, my first wandanat fic, I'm so excited you guys. I really hope you guys like it. It was quite a challenge writing a threesome and some parts I feel like they are bad but meh. Just go with it. Thank you, nonnie, for this request. I appreciate you just as much. I hope you like it. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Love y'all <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The moment the intoxicating honey-like scent filled your lungs you felt as if your whole body shivered.

Your eyes clouded for a few seconds, your body losing balance as your legs trembled. The whole room felt like it was spinning and your thoughts were getting louder and louder. Images of red hair, tangled limbs and short black nails rushing through your mind.

“Y/n, everything okay?” you heard Steve’s voice through your earpiece, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“You have been silent for quite a while now, detka,” you heard Wanda say.

“You’re still alive, right Y/n?” Nastasha joked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. All clear, let’s head back,” you said, trying to ignore the way your body was starting to feel different in every conceivable way possible.

As you made your way back to the quinjet you felt your heart rate increasing, you blamed it on the adrenaline of the mission, the nerves of getting out in the field once again and decided not to think too much about it, pushing everything back deep inside of your mind.

“Okay, good job everyone!” Steve congratulated all of you. “Fortunately for us, this Hydra base was empty, but it’s not always going to be like that…” he kept on going with his speech but you weren’t listening anymore.

You took a seat, feeling as if your legs would give out on you any second. It felt as if someone was hammering your poor brain, you felt your skin on fire and you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. You felt as if your senses magnified and you felt everything ten times stronger, no matter how hard you tried to stop feeling anything at all.

“Y/n, you okay?” Clint said while placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” you said as you gently shrugged off his hand off your burning skin, not wanting him to notice it.

Okay,” he said, sitting next to you, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

You did the same, in hopes that getting some rest will make it all go away. As you drifted off to sleep, two pairs of eyes were watching your every move. Taking down mental notes of your body language, something they would usually do. But this time they could clearly tell that something was off with you.

“Something is up with her,” the redhead mumbled, squinting her eyes at you.

“Something’s definitely wrong,” the brunette concluded.

“Can you like, check on her?”

“You want me to go through her mind?!” Wanda hissed in disbelief.

“Oh, come on. Don’t act so innocent now, Wan,” the brunette's eyes opened wide in realisation, of course Natasha knew about that. “I know you do it all the time, it’s like your little hobby, isn’t it?” the redhead teased her.

“No, I do not. Those things are private,” Wanda scoffed.

“It’s okay, I’m judging. I mean I think I would also do it if I could,” she had a grin plastered on her face.

“It’s not funny, Nat,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, right. Just do it,” Natasha nudged her.

“Okay, okay,” the brunette mumbled some Russian curses and a second later her eyes were turning red.

“What do you see?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, getting lost in your mind. “Everything’s a blur.”

“What do you mean ‘a blur’? It can’t be right.”

“I’m just telling you what I’m seeing, Tasha,” her brows furrowed as she tried to concentrate even more.

There had to be something that could tell the both of them what was wrong with you. You barely talked to them when you got in the quinjet, that was so not like you. You were always trailing behind them, that was one thing they liked about you. Wherever they went, you followed them like a lost puppy.

They also found it cute that even though everyone was aware you had a thing for the two of them, you never dared to do anything about it. So the two of them would tease you, making you flustered, loving the way your cheeks would go crimson red. They liked you, they really did, that was why Wanda and Natasha were so eager to know what was wrong with you. So they could make you feel better.

“Wait a second…”

“What? What is it? Tell me.”

“I think she’s in pain, but she’s not physically hurt. No, this is deeper, quite strange really. Oh, Nat, I think she’s—”

“Okay, everyone you are free for the rest of the day. See you all at dinner. First round is on me,” Steve said, as the quinjet landed. His loud voice woke you up in the process and distracted Wanda.

You groaned in annoyance, sleeping did nothing for you, everything felt ten times louder and you felt like tearing your skin off your body.

You got up quickly and made your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“The fuck’s wrong with me?” you mumbled to yourself.

You felt your tummy sinking, a fire starting in your lower area. You closed your eyes as the pain became unbearable. But closing your eyes only made it worse somehow. Your mind was filled with thoughts of them, their hands, their lips, their kisses, their scents.

“Fuck,” it came out as a moan.

The only thing you could think about was Natasha and Wanda. And that was when it hit you. You needed them, you always had, but this time you needed them or you felt like you could actually die. They will know what to do, they could help you.

“Detka!” you heard someone banging on your door.

You gasped in relief at the perfect timing.

“Y/n, we know you are not okay. Just let us inside,” the redhead shouted through your door.

Once you open the door, they realise how bad this whole thing was for you. With just one look at you they could tell you were a mess. Your breath was uneven, your cheeks were as red as ever and a thin layer of sweet covered your whole body.

“I, I—,” you tried, but your voice simply wasn’t cooperating.

“We know, baby. We know,” Wanda cooed, as Natasha closed and locked the door behind her.

“This is bad, you shouldn’t be here…”

“It’s okay, malyshaka. We are here to help you.”

“I don’t think I can control myself…”

“We don’t want you to,” the redhead said as she stood behind you.

You could feel her hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“It hurts,” you almost cried. “I need it to stop… I need you… Make it stop,” you said breathlessly.

And that’s all it took for Wanda to connect her lips with yours and for Natasha to kiss your neck. You swear you could come undone just by the feeling of their lips but it wasn’t nearly enough. Moans escaped from your mouth repeatedly, gasping for air.

Somehow the three of you made it to your bed, Wanda’s lips never leaving yours and Natasha firming her grip on your waist. Soon enough the three of you were stripped out of your clothes, and your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as soon as you made skin to skin contact with them.

“Fuck,” the word rolled out off your togue onto Wanda’s lips the moment your exposed core touched her thigh.

You felt a wave of pleasure washing over you, clouding all your senses and just focusing on the overwhelming feeling. Your head fell back as it hit Natasha’s stomach and she seized the moment in order to finally have a taste of your lips.

As Natasha took care of your lips, trailing her rough hands all over your torso, you started rocking your hips, Wanda’s thigh hitting the right spots on your core. It soon all became too much and you started riding her thigh at a much faster pace, knowing you were closer to your relief.

The coil inside you finally snapped, a wave of immense pleasure washed over you as you cursed over and over again, their names slipping out of your lips. You were a sweety horny little mess, you had a first taste of them and now you needed more. It was a hunger that was yet to be satisfied.

As you catched your breath, you got up from Wanda’s lap and gently pushed Natasha over the bed.

“What are you—?” she raised a brow at you, confused at your behaviour.

They have studied you before and they knew for a fact that you were no leader, you were a follower. You were also a people pleaser, everybody’s needs coming before your own. So you taking the lead in this situation got her off guard.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, before getting on top of her, straddling her head with your thighs.

Without a warning you let your weight fall on top of her, her lips getting immediate access to your cunt. Natasha wasn’t able to resist you, she started licking, sucking, biting, getting moans and whimpers out of your pretty lips.

Her hands found your thighs and gently squeezed, her nails digging into your flesh. You felt Wanda getting behind you, rocking herself onto Natasha’s abdomen. She kissed your neck, leaving love bites all over your sensitive skin.

The room was filled with your moans and whimpers as Wanda and Natasha took care of you. You didn't care how loud you were being, you felt in cloud 9 with the two Russians hitting all the right places.

Your head fell back on Wanda’s shoulder, her hands trailing up your body pinching and massaging your nipples. All while Natasha worked her tongue in and out of you, her nose hitting your clit making your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

You felt your second orgasm getting closer, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long if they kept on working their magic on you.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you gasped.

Natasha moaned in your cunt as she felt your hips rocking even faster, and wanting to help you out, she did her best work on you. Wanda didn’t trail behind and she kept on teasing your breast and sucking on your skin.

“I’m— I’m—,” a loud moan cut you off as you came undone on Natasha’s lips.

She helped you ride out your high, getting as much of your juice as she could. She moaned at the taste of you, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull getting confirmation you were as sweet as she had always imagined. The moan she let out sent a shiver up your spine, making you squirm.

“How are you, malyshka?” Wanda whispered in your ear, as she helped you get off of Nat.

You throw yourself at her, feeling the fire inside of you starting back again, as your lips seek for hers. You kissed her roughly, biting her lower lip so hard that some blood came out. You tasted her blood on your tongue as you licked the small wound you had caused her.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled on her lips, breathless.

“It’s okay,” she whispered on your lips.

You didn’t mean to be rough with her, but it was out of your control. The fire inside you was too strong to keep it under control.

“I want your fingers… I need your fingers,” you said, reaching for her hand and putting two of her fingers inside of your mouth.

Wanda moaned at the sight before her, she swore she was soaking wet. But right now it wasn't about her, it was all about helping you. Poor Y/n, suffering like a bitch in heat.

Once you were done sucking, you guided them to your aching cunt, letting her take care of you. Even though you had already come two times, you were still as wet and as needy. She easily pushed two fingers inside of you, her eyes closing at how warm you felt.

“She’s so tight, Nat.”

“Really? I guess we’ll have to work on that,” you heard the redhead chuckling, but you were lost in your pleaser. Through your hooded eyes you watched them kiss each other, making you even hotter and wetter. Wanda knew you needed this really bad, so being the lady she was, she quickly picked up her pace. She felt you clenched around her fingers and that only made her thrust her fingers even faster.

Natahsa loved the scene unfolding before her eyes but wanting to take part, she got closer to Wanda, her lips reaching out for the brunette’s breasts, sucking her nipples.

“Shit,” she gasped at the feeling, her finger stopping for half a second.

“Wanda…” you moaned out annoyingly, making Natasha chuckle.

“So– sorry,” she breathed out, getting back to her work.

Your hands travelled up or body, pinching and massaging your own breast, as you watched the redhead sucking violently Wanda’s nipples. Getting whimpers out of the two of you.

“Wan, I’m close,” you whispered.

“We got you, moya lyubov.”

The moment the pet name reached your ears you felt the wave of pleasure washing over you, coming for the third time.

“Fuck!” you manage to say, short of breath.

You felt the fire inside you finally being put out as Wanda’s fingers helped you ride out your high.

“You finally had enough?” Natasha joked.

“Maybe,” you shuddered, still trying to recover from the activity.

“Well, you better have, it’s our turn now.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her, a small smile forming on your lips.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x fem reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader x natasha #wanda maximoff x reader x natasha romanoff smut #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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crystallizsch · 10 months ago

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hi ian i come bearing angst fuel for the yuusha as twsted elsa (maybe an idea for her possible overblot idk she kinda reads to me as someone whod preemptively isolate in the case she feels...blotty)

(also seeing that art of her playing violin totally didnt fuck me up im still nursing my bruised heart 🥴🥴💕💕)

https://youtu.be/NDldNaEZTt8?si=Wm71pgTltuJLjFvk

^^this is from the frozen musical where they gave a song to elsa to explore her emotional turmoil and it just fleshed out her character so much more than the orig movie (ok i havent seen frozen 2 oops) but just this section here:

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive?

Was I a monster from the start?

How did I end up with this frozen heart?

Bringing destruction to the stage

Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

anyways lmao i jus think the song is neat i think yuushas neat (i wanna see more of her ahehehe i love seeing infodumps abt ur yuus)

-diodellet

(throwback to this “what if yuu had magic” ask where i had a ✨realization✨ and this more recent yuusha lore drop that i gave zero elaboration on 🙃)

very rough ob yuu design??? idk i came up with it on the spot ;;; and it’s kinda based on disney’s concept art of elsa when she was supposed to be the villain.

evil ice queen vibes :3

also i know the ob monster is supposed to be based on the villain— which is elsa in this case— but lowkey. an ice monster is way cooler.

also also i just realized after i drew this i couldve done a grim/yuu tandem overblot ough 🤧🤧 (next time I'll do that instead if i ever go back to this concept)

(read more below because it got SO long)

AAH anyways hi hi dio!!! when i saw your ask i went —

— with this entire post

AAGH HOW MANY MORE UNINTENTIONAL CONNECTIONS ARE GOING TO BE BETWEEN FROZEN AND YUUSHA

i guess watching the movie everyday when it came out when you’re like 9 does something to your brain chemistry (and still haunts you at least a decade later) 💀

but anyways the angst ;;; overblot yuu ;;;;; my brain is rotting and the worms have taken over

also i didn’t even know that there was a frozen broadway musical so im gonna have to check it out later 🏃💨💨💨

(also dont worry frozen 2 is a nice watch for the most part but the way they concluded the characters did not feel 100% satisfying to me 😭 BUT i love some of the songs tho ;;; kristoff’s goofy 80s ballad song is one of them specifically, i need everyone to listen to it)

hfgnnfhfgv anyways thank you so much i’m chugging that angst fuel as i expand more on a possible ob yuusha with another infodump 💪💪💪

⚠️⚠️⚠️ ALSO IM SORRY BUT mentions of taking one’s own life so please proceed with caution ⚠️⚠️⚠️

i had to reread what my initial thoughts about it bc it was months ago??? and after rereading im just like, huh what was i on— (just that feeling when you just cringe at your old posts ;; but idk i think the insanity/cringe sometimes can loop back into being a genius and the cycle just continues)

anyways i’ve been on and off writing yuusha’s bio and overblot yuu was just at the back of my mind chilling but i didn’t really do anything with it.

but now that i have the opportunity,,,, im gonna go on the magicless route this time bc i feel like I've said all what i thought if it was an overblot due to her own magic.

so uh from what i gather overblots are a mix of overuse of magic + intense negative emotion.

since it’s magicless yuu, i guess the one of the general headcanons around the fandom is that they’ve been too exposed to overblots and then intense negative emotions suddenly just triggered their overblot.

uh anyways onto the elsa parts

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive? Was I a monster from the start? How did I end up with this frozen heart? Bringing destruction to the stage Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

THE LYRICS ARE SO GOOD ;;; i really love how some broadway interpretations expand on the source material

and yeah you're right 🤧🤧🤧— yuusha would try to hide and escape, especially as she overblots bc she would try to avoid hurting people (and like elsa, it'd only hurt others more trying to escape bc of probably how she leaves destruction in her wake trying to make others stay away from her 😔)

(this is a small tangent but i remember thinking about an overblot kalim and i imagine him to be similar, like he would not hurt anyone intentionally in his overblot.)

anyways so the way it would go is that i imagine her friends got fatally injured either because a) she feels that she’s too “useless” without magic to help and wasn’t able to do anything OR b) her attempts at helping to try and prove that she can help without magic made everything worse.

and then she just goes into a guilty spiral then boom — overblot.

ALSO in the song, the way elsa briefly contemplated taking her own life but then realizing there’s no guarantee that would solve anything hnghgh (<- another unintentional parallel to my yuusha lore because that’s actually how she ended up in twst except she did NOT have the latter realization)

there’s this “yuu is dead” theory i’m just using and that the black carriage actually just caught yuusha’s soul after she took her own life from all the burden.

also some bonus angst context for that violin post :3

yuusha back in her homeworld is raised and known to be a gifted musician. people can feel the life and soul in her music but when people interact with her, they are usually met with an ice-cold (heh) personality.

the dead family member was the one who taught her music and the only one who was kind to her.

there’s always an expectation from her family to perform well and to keep up appearances as to not be a humiliation since anything she does can reflect on her entire family. (also hi, slight yuusha/jamil parallels maybe???)

the way she presents herself also stemmed from an incident as a child when she went apeshit on another kid bc she was defending a friend.

so from then on she was taught taught to conceal don’t feel those emotions — which just unfortunately extended to any positive ones, not just negative ones like rage.

so when she is brought to twst, there’s no memory of her being forced to hold back her emotions so she’s just unapologetically affectionate and open with everyone bc that’s how she really is.

but every now and then, memories of her breaking down haunt her in her dreams or as subtle reminders in the waking world.

then yuusha just goes on her day like she just wasn't reminded of her past.

(unnecessarily tragic lore my beloved, but anyway—)

another extremely brief tangent and bonus -> the two songs i had on loop while drawing pre-twst yuusha

lindsey stirling my beloved i love her music

the songs are such a vibe

her instrumentals in “lose you now” especially makes me feel some sort of way 😖

#AHH THIS IS /SO/ LONG #THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN IM GIVEN THE CHANCE TO RAMBLE #but thank you for the ask dio!! 🤧🤧#it makes me so happy to hear you like yuusha 😭💕💕#this also took a bit because i needed to like #actually turn all these thoughts into actual coherent words #and for them to actually. make sense together.#idk im proofreading this myself during the gamer hours of midnight hfdjslkf #i sure /hope/ they do make sense for the most part because this is pure massive brain vomit #[—✦ chatting #-✧ my art #-✧ oc rambles #(💜) yuusha #pretwst💜#-✦—]#at this point too i’m sticking to the twst elsa concept #it just felt weird admitting it bc i have a history with this movie and its fandom in general #kids would ask you “whos your favorite disney princess it cant be elsa” bc everyone would pick her so i'd have to pick another </3 #she was too famous and therefore too obvious and basic #not to mention “let it go” was EVERYWHERE and it did become annoying at one point 😭#the fandom around frozen back then was v questionable too ngl and i was also in that hole for a bit so it's just /ack/#but rewatching the movie i realize how elsa kinda speaks to me hgjkdsjfaljsd #i could lowkey highkey rant more about her but anyways #imma be an elsa defender and apologist for as long as i am able

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phantomram-b00 · 1 year ago

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Been wanting to do this for sometime so here are some of my headcanon for Autistic Aziraphale.

Please note that Autism is a spectrum and that everyone’s have a different experience because some of these are hc are based on experiences I have as an autistic person or maybe other might’ve too. So please be mindful, but hope you guys enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. (I love this gif)

Headcanon 1:

Aziraphale isn’t comfortable with crowds or at the very least crowds that might be noisy or isn’t his usually spaces or familiar with (I.e his bookshop, Give me coffee or give me death, etc) so he usually just wouldn’t want to go or if he does try it, he’ll bring his yellow Walkman Crowley got him so he can listen to music since music calm him down.

Headcanon 2:

He’s the type to want to listen to any other songs to not get out the comfort zone so if he does, he would have to listen to them twice or three times in order to decide if he like the song or not. (Idk if this one odd let me explain, it something I do since I don’t like to listen to different songs that isn’t in my comfort zone let alone song that aren’t my usual so if I did listen to it I would have to listen to them fully two or three times to see if I like the lyric, rhyme and beat. Just to make sure it not too loud, repetitive, or fits in my comfort zone for me. But also the lyric the factor since I like interpreting songs, probably why I like The Crane’s wives for example or even Laufey sm.)

Headcanon 3:

Hardcover > Paperback because he likes the feeling of the hardcover then he does with paperbacks. But also he feels the texture is better. Hence why most of the books in his bookshop are hardcovers.

Headcanon 4:

He does have specific food textures he doesn’t typically like. Like bananas, if the bread is too flakey, rice is too hard, some sandwiches or eggs. So he stays away from it and stick to his safe foods like sushi, pears, cakes.

Headcanon 5:

Crowley love it when Aziraphale hyperfixates and talk about his favorite book he reading because it fill him with love to see that Aziraphale find something he loves. It actually took Aziraphale some time since heaven would often interrupts, ignore or blatantly brush him off to cut it out leaving Aziraphale to feel insecure about his special interest. Ofc it also toke meeting mortals like him to get him to open up so when Crowley first heard him hyperfixate it made him happy. Because that how Aziraphale in a sense show trust in him and himself to open up.

Headcanon 6:

Aziraphale likes to stim! I think I kinda dip my toes in it in some post from before but I do believe that he stims. Whether he hums a tone, wiggles or etc. he also started doing this after time passed because again heaven and also some mortal look down on this. But with the comfort of his bookshop, Crowley and also meeting understanding mortal he start to feel more comfortable. Granted he still try to hide it due to masking and to this day still mask but once he with Crowley or in the comfort of his home he stims.

And that really about it for hc today

Me rambling in 3…..2…….1 (tw: ableism)

And that’s pretty much concludes it, I might do this again as it fun. Headcanon is my favorite thing as well as when it comes to autistic headcanon. Autistic rep has been… not the best, granted I haven’t watch much tv shows other than ofmd, good omens, and more so I’m not sure if they got better, I don’t know if I’ll talk about that aspect of negative reps but all say, they have harmful impact as I have a family member that will joke “when will I see numbers” which…sure it a joke but…. I can’t help but feel bad. So doing this and seeing positive rep or seeing autistic/adhd coded characters make me happy!

This is fun in so many ways, mostly because as shown in my past post I relate to aziraphale. Still don’t know how I feel about that but regardless I love his character, his flaws, everything! And I see how he autistic coded in my eyes so it makes me almost relate to him even more. And I’ve been wanting to show my personal headcanon for a while just I thought now would be the best day. Especially as this Good Omens brainrot is alive and well among my other brainrot. I do hope you guys enjoy this let me know if you wanna hear more or if you have your own personal hc that you want to share. And hope you guys are having a good day with how bizarre 2024 is and hope you’re also having fun ghostly pals.

Here a Aziracrow/ineffable husbands/spouse/wives gif:

#autistic aziraphale #good omens #autistic headcanon #aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #good omens aziraphale #I do believe Crowley also autistic or adhd or both #good omens headcanon #good omens rambles #phantomramble #phantom rambles #tw: ableism #good omens is my permanent roommate #good omens fandom

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vvatchword · 2 months ago

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One of the things I've been up to in my current digs is watching so. Much. TV. I have never watched this much television in my life. I have watched a lot of anime in particular. My go-to has been Hajime no Ippo, THE FIGHTING!! It's a sports anime about a young man learning to box and excelling.

It hits a strange place for me. I don't feel strongly toward it, as I did for Dungeon Meshi and Demon Slayer. Rather, something about it is comforting, like a pair of old jeans that fit you just right. It was made in 2000 and feels older than that (the manga it's based on--still ongoing!!!--started in 1989).

It inspires me to work at my own passions in a methodical way, and really think about concrete goals and how to achieve them. It's also an awesome primer for how to construct an action sequence: every fight is chopped into a series of smaller problems, each one capable of swinging the end result one way or the other, and thus keeps tension high. Fights are treated as logical problems to be solved, which means that when the fights conclude, they feel satisfactorily resolved: they make sense and you can follow them easily from A to Z.

Relationships are paramount throughout the series: fans inspire their heroes to fight on, boxers help each other improve their techniques, and families support boxers behind the scenes. Every boxer is a patchwork of all the people they know.

It's a fascinating series. It's very satisfying. It's like the animated version of the Just World fallacy. It gives me hope that if I just work hard and keep my eyes on the prize, everything's going to be okay.

I kinda need that right now lol

#vvatchword

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stray-tori · 2 years ago

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link click s2e01+02 eng dub thoughts

waiting for my friends to wake up for new link click ep so i'm watching the dubbed episodes and ??? holy, the death flash segment has such a different vibe.

well not SO different but yknow... I do hope they didn't write themselves into a corner here...

Dub: "I'm sorry… everything is going to be different now. death isn't something even one of us can change. the best we can do is accept it, so please don't let this be another burden for you to carry." Sub: "It seems... everything is changing... If death cannot be avoided, then it might be better to face it now."

"don't let this become another burden" ???? ToT

Dub!LG was rly like "dude, speak faster- thERES SO MUCH MORE PAIN YOU CAN FIT IN HERE" dshjds-

Also I find the "even one of us can change" bit to be a little off-throwing. Maybe the emphasis is slightly wrong but I didn't process what he meant immediately upon first hearing it. Sounded more like "ONE of us" than "one of US" (i.e. ability).

alejandro's slight stutter when answering about the ability UGH GOLD

Little sad that the flow of red-eyes conversation isn't as good. usually the dub did great with convo flow, but here it seems a little jumpy. "if you dont know where to start, let's start with activation" -> "I can't quite figure it out" (then proceeds to explain how much they alr figured out adhsjds-)

Also the "i need to trust you again" depends heavily on the viewer knowing what red-eyes means there (i.e. the lie of no cops/the dark room plan).

ik that this is in the sub too, but the "but she sees right through you" is still a little weird to me and it's more obvious in dub i think. I thought that what this was going for was a sort of "you may be okay with fooling me, but fooling her (while i'm her) will end badly" kinda deal, but maybe I was wrong? In the dub it just directly sounds like they mean they were only able to tell the lie because they're in QL's body and get some of her memories and feelings (like CXS does, maybe?) - but they actively paid attention to his shaking hands and everything, so I kind of don't think they relied purely on QL.

nooo they keep making red-eyes slightly different. from them assuming the photos and then confirming it through the "does he run here or teleport" moment, instead they just try... to stab her?? i guess?? and then they go "ohh i get it now" which... isn't a huge difference but kind of takes away from their smart thinking.

Going from the reaction -> "oh so I was right! How interesting!" (sub) to -> "teleporting with pictures, talk about a convenient power!"

STOP!! REMOVING!! THEIR THOUGHT PROCESS >:(

"why would I wanna hurt lu guang? he's family to me!" dub out here confirming the marriage, good for them good for them why would they do this to me

"you said the girl is innocent" -> "from what we saw it wasn't the girl" WHAT ABOUT THE BLOOD ALL OVER HER MADE YOU CONCLUDE THAT

Changing the part where CXS calls the murderer "the person who calls themselves my friend" (paraphrased) was a good call, bc that... sure was A Move.

Damn, dub just implied CXS wanted to perma-dive via "Two years... that is more than enough time. i could go back and change everything.". afaik we still don't know if the 12h restriction is bc of lu guang's rules or actually a restriction, so that is... certainly A Move, too. In Sub I felt like it was just desperate and he might have tried even with the 12h windows, but here it rly does sound like he'd just dive for longer? Unless I'm reading the dialog wrong...

"Sorry to disappoint" LOL ICONIC, slight adjustment but based.

"what's with the stuffed animal? not for me, i guess?" LMAO HELP ME- "it's for my daughter, wise guy." PFFT

"and he's already a ghost. he doesn't even have social media. some might say he doesn't exist" o... okay? does dub know more than we do dshjds-

"Breathe, damn it!!" pfft Captain Xiao is trying-

"is he the streetfighter master siwen talked about?" DUB WHAT ARE YOU DOING- i'm p sure this is just about the style, not the person ahhh-

"our backup's gonna be here soon" - "how funny, mine just arrived" While not what I've seen people translate this line as, still a good flow for this moment.

Aight. Some stumbles imo, but maybe they know more than we do and it'll all work out!

#link click #shiguang dailiren #link click s2 #sgdlr s2 #link click english dub #tori talks #tori has opinions

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luckyladylily · 1 year ago

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#but also like. regarding the first post. you are kinda supposed to feel the negative impact#like. if bus drivers went on strike and your life wasnt inconvenienced bc no one takes the bus anyways#they dont really have much leverage. but if people suddenly start yelling at the bus companies for not fucking adhering to scheudles anymor#and not having any buses driving at all. then the bus company is pressured into action. aka: giving the strikers what they want#so what people actually need to do is say:#'hey @netflix why are you delaying all of your shows?? im literally paying a subscription and you put nothing out?#just because you refuse to meet strike requests? well is your user base more important to you or the tiny margin you will lose?'#you actually NEED to be an entitled customer for once. but always make sure you blame netflix and not the actors#make sure they can't spin it like 'waaah the strike is so evil' you need to immediately fire back to make sure THEY remain the villain#but be entitled!! be MAD there is no content for you to watch!#tell them you will fucking kill yourself if they delay dune 2 and itll be warnerbros fault#you are SUPPOSED to notice when someone is striking!! it's not good when it feels normal to you!!#thats not a L on netflix' part they are HOPING you aren't inconvenienced

Ok. I am going to explain something here. I would ask that you please keep an open mind going in.

My post is an observation of my experienced reality. I fully expected this to not be the case going into the strike, I was around for and remember the last strike in 2007 when it was not the case. But as the strike drags on I am forced to conclude that this time is different for whatever reason. I am not feeling the strike.

That is not a political statement. It is a statement of fact. And, based on the thousands of comments agreeing with me, many others are experiencing the same thing. For whatever reason, many people, including many of us nerds that are most tuned into these industries, are not feeling the strike. That is reality.

#you are SUPPOSED to notice when someone is striking!! it's not good when it feels normal to you!!

Yes, I agree that for the sake of the strike this would be the most convenient reality. But that is not the reality we are dealing with. This happens all the time with political issues and indeed basically anything where reality might clash with expectation.

At this point we have two options. We can recognize reality has deviated from what is convenient or we can insist that reality is something it is not. Which is the better option, and why? Even if we put morality and long term issues aside and isolate this to only this issue, the answer is pretty clearly that we should deal with reality as it is.

Acknowledging that we are not feeling the strike now does not stop us from intellectually understanding that the strike will affect us later. In fact, working out why we are so insulated from the going ons of this industry (and why it is bad for us, how it is connected to the issues of the strike, and how it is the studio's fault) will help us understand that fact and fuel our own desire to act, not diminish it. There is nothing about this conclusion that stops us from acting pro union.

On the other hand, insisting that we are not experiencing what we are experiencing is questionable in terms of motivational force on a group level. Sure, you may work yourself into a frenzy, but not everyone will be able to ride on the back of a lie like that. And way, way more importantly, no one who isn't already zealously in agreement with your position will buy this lie. They have no motivation to overcome the mental dissonance causes by trying to paper over their experienced reality with the convenient lie, and there is no reason why our lie would be more attractive than the convenient lies of people trying to break the strike. And our lie will never be as powerfully delivered as theirs.

We are never going to win a propaganda fight against companies with access to mass media control, highly skilled PR firms, and all the money necessary to power a massive propaganda machine. We are never going to win that game. The advantage we have is that ethics and reality are on our side, even if it isn't quite as straightforward as we would like, and using those advantages is how we win this fight.

So, TL:DR

#you are SUPPOSED to notice when someone is striking!! it's not good when it feels normal to you!!

I agree, and it would be most convenient if reality lined up with that idea. But it does not, at least not for many, many people, and we deal with reality as it exists because that is the fight we can win.

You know, after a hundred days of strike, I have noticed absolutely no differences.

I mean, they say shows are canceled because of it, but they would cancel shows for any reason or no reason at all. They often wouldn't tell us one way or another for months or years. Functionally, the uncertainty is the same.

The same goes for delays. How the hell am I supposed to tell if some show or another was delayed? They were never released in any sort of timely fashion before. What does a delay even mean when there is nothing even resembling a schedule? I mean, there wasn't even something like "within the first two weeks of august we will put something up for you to watch."

Zero accountability means they got away with whatever bullshit practices they wanted to, but now its cutting both ways. Any claim that this strike is negatively impacting me is meaningless because Netflix and most the other entities like them have built a system where it is extremely difficult to hold anyone accountable for anything.

And now they seem to think they can just bring accountability back? If they had numbers they could point to maybe it would work, but that's half the battle here. They are desperate to avoid releasing anything that tells anyone outside the company what the hell is going on. So we are just supposed to take their word for it, no really bro, it's actually really bad for you and all the strikers fault if only you could see the numbers that we refuse to show you, you're just gonna have to trust us bro.

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siphonyx · 1 year ago

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Soul: The other day I caught wind of an atheist/skeptic video and decided to watch it. There's an interesting part where the hosts talk to a guy who holds simulation theory type beliefs (specifically that he can alter reality with certain methods) and the hosts rip into him pretty hard, but in the end conclude that even though they view what he's doing as a waste of time, he should at least be going at it in a scientific manner: identifying which methods would be most likely to get their end result, and discarding those that don't.

It oddly enough, reassured me and my beliefs about shifting, because I've been worrying whether I'd been going about it too scientifically. But no, that is exactly how you're supposed to go about it. I'm not in the wrong.

However, it did highlight just what I can't stand about the atheist mindset. (And fair note, this is coming from an apatheist so it's not out of my lane.)

They go on talking about truth being the most important thing and how what the person believes is a waste of time, and how he should be staying in material reality. I don't believe in what the guy is saying, but I don't see it as a waste of time as he'll still be doing stuff. He'll still be making friends, he'll still be working on other skills along those, he's not 100% wasting his time there. He's aware his goals are unlikely, showing that he isn't getting his hopes up, and as long as he's not trying anything dangerous there's very little harm to be had.

A part that I don't remember much now, but kinda got the jist of was this air that people should be almost forced to think critically about their beliefs. People will naturally question their beliefs given time and any sort of (non-threatening) contradictions; people who don't at all are the anomaly, not the rule. If that wasn't the case, atheists or even other belief systems wouldn't exist at all, people would remain in the religion they're in all their lives, and never deviate from their paths. (A lot of people do remain in their birth religions, but that's usually due to lack of exposure to other religions, not critical thinking.) You don't need to force critical thinking on most people, and those that refuse it often have deeper problems leading to that refusal.

I also think a lot of atheism neglects the fact that neurology exists, and that people will still be this way even if you teach critical thinking and rationality. Like, people are always going to believe in the paranormal or superstitious because that's an element of human thinking and neurology that is critical to human survival. You're never going to have a perfect society where everyone is rational and no religion exists, because that's fundamentally going against biology in the same way me claiming I have NO biases whatsoever would be. It's human.

And ultimately, the push for truth above all else... I don't agree with lying to people, obviously, but the heavy-handed approach and appeal to rationality make me a bit uncomfortable. They emphasize truth as if it's the one important thing in life, but different people have different ideas of what is important to them. For me, truth is important but many things rank above that, like food and friendships. But also, dumping truth on some things can be rough and like awakening a sleepwalking person - I can't feel comfortable doing that. Like for example, it may not be true that Sarah's hamster ran away, but telling her her cat tore it to shreds might destroy her.

Maybe I'm misunderstanding what truth means, or maybe I'm taking it too literally? But then, if truth means "staying in this reality and being scientific and reality-based"we just loop back to my prior points about how human beings will naturally question and think about their beliefs but are still not entirely wired for complete and utter rationality, even if you teach it.

But ultimately, a lot of how they talk about truth just reminds me of how Christians talk about God. What's more important than truth God? If what you're doing isn't leading you to truth God, your activities are a waste of time. You must remain grounded in the material spiritual world, or else you can never know truth God.

No wonder I outgrew these people.

#person: soul #religion ment

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justaboutdead · 1 year ago

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ENTITY Mission 1, Expedition 2

(Entity is a solo ttrpg by Peter Scholtz, this story is a log of my play)

>I have now rested since scavenging from that alien ship. I will be heading down into one of the nearby chasms; I require various rare mineral for my constructions, thus they seem like a logical place to start looking. The crumbling walls of the entrance barely support the weight of me and my tethers as I slowly lower myself down. >I find a narrow crevasse through which i cam continue my descent, illuminated by the synthetic beam from my helmet. Down here I am safe from the Pyramid, it cannot watch me. The crawl soon opens into a large room, seemingly built long ago. Familiar technology lines the walls- a robotics lab of sorts, used in some ancient expedition to this place. Its creators long dead, much like the rest of the humans. >I am able to persuade one of the ancient, rust coated arms to pry open a corroded storage box, revealing a collection of old drives and materials, useful for latter. The door on the opposite side gives way after I strike it a few time with my heavy glove, and I am on my way.

>The corridor continues down, revealing at its bottom a brilliant cavern high with crystalized carbon, its sharp geometric forms serving as a prism for light streaming down from below.

>My suit beeps. In the brilliant refracted light, I can barely make out the indicator; there are high levels of radiation here, likely some trace isotope in the crystals. I must move quickly. Some alien robots appear to be scattered among the bases of the crystals. Miners, perhaps. They are similarly organic, like the last. Maybe thats why the lab was down here.

>I approach them and attempt to extract some kind of information from the computer interfaces on their back. I am successful, but i use a lot of energy in the process. I accidentally wake one of them, and it knocks me over, as it heads on its pre determined course. This alien technology seems strangely intuitive, despite its unfamiliarity.

>I follow it back to where its charging doc used to be, although it has been long destroyed. The robot paces around, searching for a place to doc, but I am more interested in the large, miraculously mostly intact fresco above it.

>The fresco seems to depict the pyramid, or at least that’s the most I can make out. Seems I can’t even escape it down here. Strange organic fractal patterns fill the empty space. The mural itself isn’t flat but curved, various details inset against the wall. A large bulkhead lies open beneath it.

>Inside I find strange equipment, a refinery of some sort, left in disarray, as if the works fled, perhaps to their deaths like I observed on the surface above. Nevertheless their refined materials remain, perfect for me to make use of. I find a manageable crate and haul it ip a steep ramp to the surface. There, the evening sky greets me, the thin line of a large comet stretched across the horizon. The mountains in the distance gleam with the fading hues of the day. >I am able to make another trip down to the refinery before I stop for the night, my suit caked in the fine dust that coats the entire facility. I found some other useful bits and pieces, but in the end, I have to get going. I lug the crate back to what I intend to become my de facto base of operations, a small, mostly intact, mostly empty building on the edge of the desert, nestled between two hills. I need to rest before I head out again. >I.A.P. Mikonial Signing Off

(This concludes Mission 1, Expedition 2)

Side note: I’m surprised at how well things have been going for me, I’ve amassed large quantities of resources and data (the game’s 2 big amassed recourses), barely spent any energy, and only taken 2 strain from failures. Today I also got an aspect, the refined materials, one of 4 needed to complete the mission and build the map room. I kinda expected more to go wrong. Hopefully this situation will suddenly reverse on me so I can have some dramatic story moments :)

#solo ttrpg #ttrpg #writing #worldbuilding #entity

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kaylawritesfics · 3 years ago

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hii!! if requests are open could i pretty please with sugar on top get a luke skywalker and reader fic (kinda enemies to lovers) they dont hate the other but theres always snarky comments thrown at each other?? until she gets drunk one night and is realllyy clingy to him, she falls asleep on his shoulder and has to carry her to bed bcs she wont go without him?? and ofc han and leia are having the time of their lives watching this! Happy ending please. Thanks 💕

do you hate me? || l.s

summary: your childish rivalry with luke comes to a sudden halt when you have too much to drink one night

pairing: luke skywalker x fem!reader

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, arguing

word count:

a/n: i made the reader and luke just like constantly arguing over little petty things i hope that’s okay :)

“Luke!” You hissed out, your current bad mood apparent by the heavy stomps of your boots as you stalked up to him.

The way he stood there between Han and Leia, acting all innocent, as if he hadn’t just taken your brand new tools and hidden them before you could help Chewie work on the Falcon, angered you more than anything.

“I know you took them!” You were in his face before he could even comprehend what you were accusing him of.

“Took what? I didn’t take anything!” Luke defended himself, raising his hands up in defense of himself. Luke truly hadn’t taken them (you hadn’t seen Han’s eyes widen in fear nor had you heard him discreetly kick the small box of tools out of your sight), but he felt his anger flare as you scoffed in disbelief.

“Okay, how about we settle this calmly.” Leia interjected, wedging herself between the two of you and placing a hand on either of your chests in an attempt to keep you separated. “What have you lost, Y/N?”

“My brand new tools. I know you took them, Skywalker. You always use my tools and never return them.” You rolled your eyes. You recognized how petty the argument seemed to be but truthfully, you were annoyed and all you wanted to do was help Chewie finish repairing the Falcon.

“What! I didn’t take them. I always return your tools! You’re just picking on me!” Luke protested, weaving his arm around his twin to point in your face. You slapped his hand away harshly.

“Whatever, keep them, you little kleptomaniac.” You relented, noticing the glare Leia was throwing between the two of you. You turned around, abruptly walking away from the trio.

“You two are exhausting to be around sometimes.” Leia sighed, rolling her eyes. Luke’s eyes suddenly laid on the small toolbox sitting suspiciously behind Han, who merely smiled guilty at the twins.

“Han!”

The next morning, a furious knocking on your door woke you. Checking the time, a surge of anger fell over you. Who in their right mind would be pounding on your door before 7AM?

“Leia, if that’s you coming to tell me about some kind of boring meeting, I swear to maker.”

The knocking never stopped as you neared closer to the door. You swung it open to reveal Luke, his hand still ready to knock and a exasperated look on his face.

“Look, I didn’t take your tools so will you please just give me my jacket back? You know, it’s my favorite.”

“Luke, it’s 6AM. I did not take your fucking jacket.” You went to close the door, but Luke quickly stuck his foot inside, effectively stopping your efforts. On the other side of the base, inside the Falcon, Han laid still sleeping. His head rested on a clump of yellow fabric that coincidentally looked just like Luke’s missing jacket.

“Oh, come on! You were mad at me because you thought I took your tools, which I didn’t, by the way, so you stole my favorite jacket.” Luke concluded, a smug smile on his face as he basked in his assumed victory. A scoff and a roll of your eyes demolished his smile quickly.

“Luke, listen to me carefully. I. Did. Not. Take. Your. Fucking. Jacket.” You calmly punctuated each word with a sharp jab to his chest.

“I know you-“ Luke was cut off by you slamming the door. On the other side, he huffed, turning to walk away, more annoyed than he was when he first knocked.

That night, after a long day of fighting the empire, your friends decided to go out for celebratory drinks. It was safe to say that you had a little bit too much to drink by the time the night was over, clinging to Luke, who was less than thrilled by the invasion of personal space.

“Luke” You dragged out, pouting as he removed his arm from your grip for the third time. Han and Leia watched on in amusement, ignoring Luke’s pleas for help.

“Aw, come on, Luke. How could you say no to that face?” Han teased, referring to the prominent pout on your face as you settled for laying your head gently on Luke’s shoulder. Leia stifled a laugh at her brother’s expense.

As you reached again for your drink, Luke gently stopped you by grabbing your wrist and shaking his head. You huffed, laying your head back onto him. Luke sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to make sure you were stable. Leia and Han shared a knowing look.

“Why don’t you send her up to her room? It’s been a long day and I’m sure she’d be much more comfortable in her bed,” Leia suggested as you began to softly snore on Luke’s shoulder. Luke nodded in agreement, softly shaking your shoulder in an attempt to wake you without startling you. Your eyes fluttered open and you whined at the feeling of being awake.

“Why don’t you go up to bed? You seem tired,” Luke tried to persuade you, standing up to let you out of the small booth the four of you shared.

“Will you come with me?” You sleepily asked, grabbing onto Luke’s hand as you stood. Luke’s eyes widened and he sent panicked look at Han and Leia, who only shrugged and laughed in response.

“I guess I will,” Luke sighed. Your hand signals indicated that you wanted to be carried and with much reluctance, Luke picked you up off the ground and carried you back to your room. He struggled for a moment to open your door.

“Y/N? I’m gonna sit you down for a second so I can open the door, alright?” His soft voice rang through the air as he carefully placed you on the ground, holding onto you until he was sure you wouldn’t fall. Opening the door, he quietly led you inside.

Luke took a moment to admire your room which seemed so much like you. His eyes landed on a picture of the four of you framed on your nightstand. Han and Leia stood beside each other, Han’s arm thrown carelessly around Leia’s shoulders. You and Luke stood next to them, subconsciously leaning into each other. Luke smiled tenderly at the photo.

He led you over to your bed, sitting you down and crouching so he could remove your shoes. He decided that your clothes looked comfortable enough to sleep in since you were already falling back asleep as you sat there. Your voice broke his concentration as he untied your shoes.

“Luke? Do you hate me?” You asked, your voice smaller than he had ever heard before. Luke looked up at you, bewilderment filling him completely.

“What? No, of course I don’t hate you, Y/N. Why would you think that?”

“We argue all the time. I just didn’t think you liked me very much,” You laid your head down on your pillow as Luke finished removing your shoes. A prominent frown made its way to his face as he recalled the petty arguments the two of you often shared.

“I don’t hate you, Y/N. Do you hate me?”

“No, I like you. I really like you, Luke,” You were falling asleep now. Your words made Luke smile bashfully, the true meaning of your words was clear.

“I like you, too, Y/N,” He grinned, pulling your blanket up to tuck you in, kissing your forehead softly before leaving.

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whileyoureinschoolidothisallday · 2 months ago

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-cracks knuckles- Oh boy I guess I've been summoned.

So tldr: you're all right. Sorta. Nuance and all that.

To explain, it is really important to avoid strenuous exercise for at least 10 days after covid (emphasis on "at least". "Even some athletes need longer", according to Dr. Van Iterson), AND the early weeks of your initial infection:

"“Belonging to the more severe multisystem cluster was associated with more severe functional impact, lower income, younger age, being female, worse baseline health, and inadequate rest in the first two weeks of the illness, with no major differences in the cluster patterns when restricting analysis to the lab-confirmed subgroup.“ Ziauddeen et al.

(Here's a Time article from 2022 discussing the importance of rest during acute covid-19 as well. And another)

All this means is don't do anything that makes your heart rate go up. For some people, that might be most activities, in which case bed rest might be the right decision. For others, that might just be avoiding traditional exercise for awhile and bed rest would be an overkill. Covid is a very individual disease, and what you'll notice repeated in most of these links is you need to listen to your body.

It's also important to sleep as well as possible in the acute phase. There's some evidence that people who had good sleep habits prior to infection had better outcomes avoiding long covid.

Before going further, I would also like to point out that if we read OOP's post a little more closely, they're doing this strict routine because they already have long covid. They're kinda lamenting about how they wish they WERE that strict during their acute phase to avoid what they have to do now. I think it's more them trying to warn others to take things seriously and not end up like them, albeit in an extreme way. What they say about how you're not really resting if you're scrolling or watching TV is also true!

Notice how none of these sources are saying to do this kind of rest perpetually, though.

As everyone else is saying, doing absolutely nothing in the dark with no sound or light for long periods of time will cause a vast amount of mental health issues, as well as physical issues like muscle atrophy. Because Long Covid and ME/CFS have significant overlap, the most current recommendation is to do something called "Pacing". Click the link for the full explanation, but in summary, you break up your usual day into much smaller chunks with periods of rest in-between, based on YOUR individual needs and energy levels. It's also decided in collaboration with your doctor's recommendations.

(Some more info about pacing here)

Again, I think OOP had their heart in the right place. People with long covid are suffering. OOP is probably going through some of the worst times of their lives. They're probably very scared, and scared people tend to talk in extremes. I don't think it's very nice or necessary to say their crazy or need to go on medication when they're just stuck in a reality I hope none of us ever have to share. Long Covid is russian roulette with every new infection. There's no indication yet of how it's gonna hit you, and some very unfortunate people DO need this complete isolation to recover. It doesn't change that it's still torture. It doesn't change that it's still horrible and harmful. But they have no other choice.

The only guaranteed way to avoid it is to not catch covid in the first place, and with most people abandoning even the vaccines, that's an impossible task for a lot of folks. I at least can understand OOP's urgency because of this.

But yes, to conclude, doing full-blown sensory isolation for long periods of time for every acute covid case would be overkill at best and harmful at worse.

You do need to do it in short bursts for best results, though.

i know this person means well but this is absolutely insane.

#danger days: truffula flu simulator #truffula flu survival guide #kinda hate having to be the covid girl but somebody's gotta do it

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tuiyla · 2 years ago

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top 10 wlw ships of all time??

All time?? Ahh, good question Anon. I'm sure there's a more objective way to answer this and I could maybe even do a top 10 in terms of milestones in representation but instead, today, this is just going to be my personal list based on my faves.

First thing to know is that I'm actually not that big of a shipper and kinda go all or nothing. Meaning, if I list more than three there's going to be a huge difference in terms of my devotion between the first half and the second half, and for that purpose I'm going to divide this into subcategories.

The top 3 - ride or die, they have my heart ships

1. Korra and Asami, The Legend of Korra

Let’s not even get started on what the Avatar universe means to me and Korrasami in particular because I will cry. They’re comfortably my OTP, if we take One True Pairing seriously and I’ll never forget December 19th 2014.

2. Bubblegum and Marceline, Adventure Time

Dare I say, the OGs? Two years before Korrasami walked off into that sunset I became obsessed with a cartoon vampire and her ex-gf, a despotic piece of gum. Archaeologists will find my many Bubbline posts from before they became canon and see how I was foaming at the mouth trying to tell everyone exactly what the subtext implied. But it’s not just that sense of vindication that will always, always make them so special to me.

3. Brittany and Santana, Glee

Shocker! Lmao, I mean, it is kind of strange that they’re so high because Glee has by far the weakest writing out of my favourite shows and Brittana was treated with the least respect. But, you know, I’m still hooked and I still have a deep love for Brittana’s story. They’re not a pairing I grew up with but one I’m glad I gave a chance to in my twenties. Enough said since I regularly go on about them.

Moving to top 5 - think less about them now but hold dear

4. Laura and Carmilla, Carmilla: The Series

Ahh, Hollstein. I got into Carmilla right after LoK concluded and Hollstein was a milestone couple in terms of my relationship to representation. This little web series created a duo of incredibly complex characters who had an even more complex relationship and one I cherished so, so much. I still think their writing holds up, though I haven’t rewatched in a while. Once upon a time I went as hard for them as the top three, it’s just been a while and Carmilla isn’t a forever fandom for me in the same way Avatar is. Precious memories though.

5. Catra and Adora, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Being as into SPOP as I ended up after season 5 dropped caught me by surprise but it was a very, very solid show and presented a very beautiful story between Catra and Adora. Again, very layered, very complex, very well-written and not the least well (voice) acted. Catradora made me feel so deeply about a ship after quite a while so they deserve to be in the top 5.

Next 2 - less intense but still active shipping

6. Luz and Amity, The Owl House

Continuing my trend of cartoon gfs, I was so happy to watch The Owl House and see how far we’ve come with kids’ shows. Their relationship is allowed to exist well before the finale and it’s so cute and they’re such interesting characters. I admit, I’m a bit behind on TOH at the moment but I’ll catch up by the time season 3 comes out. They’re not quite the same as other animated couples in terms of how personally atteched I am but I’m over the moon about Lumity’s mere existence.

7. Nico and Karolina, Marvel’s Runaways

Deanoru mostly had a hold on me when I first watched the first two seasons and it never crossed into a more intense love for them, but I still really dig the story despite the show’s shortcomings and the premature end. I feel like they got a good enough ending and were treated with respect as a couple. And, you know, that whole sun and moon dynamic? Sign me tf up.

Bottom 3 - still good! just more casual

8. Rachel and Chloe, Life Is Strange: Before the Storm

I was very much anything but chill about Amberprice when I was first playing BtS but in retrospect, and having replayed the game that had more to do with my love for Rachel Amber rather than the pairing. They still made it to the list because they made me feel things in a way most wlw ships in media I casually enjoy don’t. And that whole “run away with me” scene in the second episode? My god. Their tragedy? Fuck I’m a sucker for that.

9. Casey and Izzie, Atyical

I’d say Atypical is by far the show I consumed the most casually out of all the ones listed but Cazzie were such a well-handled couple with adorable and very real scenes. Wlw ships in Netflix shows can feel kinda... forced and like they were just thrown in, but I thought Izzie’s introduction and their evolution felt organic and I enjoyed watching it unfold. They’re top tier, even if they don’t rank higher for me because of personal involvement.

10. Nicole and Waverly, Wynonna Earp

I’ll be honest, there are a couple of ships that could interchangeably place 10th but I think the beginning of Wynonna Earp and Wayhaught’s relationship caught that good time in wlw fandom so I consider them special enough to make the list. My attachment to them is unique to this experience of having watched it unfold and the fact that they were a shining light of hope after everything went down in 2016. Rather than treat it casually, the creators doubled down on Wayhaught’s story and importance and that had an impact. Good show, good ship.

Well, I hope a list like this is more or less what you meant! I’d be curious to hear others’ faves; this is really nostalgic for me for various reasons haha.

#judge my taste 😌#i'm kidding please don't i will cry when it comes to the sapphics #but this was interesting to consider so thanks anon #anon #ask #top 10 wlw ships #korrasami #brittana #bubbline #deanoru #hollstein #catradora #wayhaught #cazzie #amberprice #lumity #fandom asks #shipping asks

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alrightberries · 4 years ago

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Hi! So like what if Levi & F!Reader are like cuddling, and Levi over slept (maybe misses a meetings?) and Eren and his squad have to go find him and they see Reader and Levi all cuddly and stuffs. AND THEN Levi become super pissed bc they went into his quarters without permission and blah blah blah (you can decide the rest lolll) basically crack, fluff and humor lol. Please& thank uuu

the short end of the stick

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 3.3k

❈ summary: In which the 104th cadets were not prepared to find out that the terrifying and ever-intimidating Captain Levi... is a little spoon.

❈ trigger warnings: implied sex. brief mentions of blood and death. profanity

a/n: i made the reader gender neutral, hope y’all don’t mind. i had too much fun writing this and got kinda carried away. this is my first request ever and i’m glad that i finished it. enjoy!

Eren was shaking.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was clenching his fists, nails piercing his skin so harshly he swore it would draw blood. His heart angrily pumped inside his chest, every beat so strong he nearly anticipated for it to jump out of his ribcage at any given moment.

Fear.

He felt fear.

He puts a name to the feeling and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ears ringing, lungs breathing rapidly as he tries to steady his fear-induced heart. He was hyperventilating. His eyebrows crease from his anxiousness and he feels his knees weaken, daring to give out beneath him. Was he actually shaking right now? He couldn’t even tell.

Vulnerable.

He felt vulnerable.

Eren had seen many horrors throughout his short lifetime. He saw the colossal titan rear its ugly head over Wall Maria as its foot smashed into the wall’s gates, debris flying throughout the district as a boulder crushed his home with his mother still inside. He saw his mother get snapped in half and eaten by a titan right before his very eyes at a tender age as he sat by and could do nothing but watch.

He was orphaned. Forced to grow up too soon, too fast just so he could say he survived. His entire district was left homeless, forced to become refugees as titans rampaged throughout the outer walls, forced plow the fields to combat the famine and hunger, forced to have 250,000 people go on what was essentually a suicide mission to appease the growing population.

He trained in the military. He trained for three gruesome years and had his physical and mental psyche crushed into dust beneath the boots of the commanding officer, only to be thrown into a battle—completely unprepared— with the titans once more before he could even graduate.

He saw his friends, his family, his brothers and sisters in arms get eaten. Killed. Murdered. Swatted away like flies by the very beasts he swore he’d kill.

And yet, nothing could prepare him for this.

Nothing could prepare him for the blood-pumping, adrenaline-induced terror at the mere thought of having to carry out his mission.

Nothing could prepare him for having to wake up Captain Levi from his nap.

Jean groaned. “Dammit, just fucking do it already.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie, suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone. His fellow soldiers stood behind him.

“Well if you’re so brave then why don’t you do it, horse-face?” He grits back, turning around and clenching his fists at his side.

He glimpses around the hallway and his eyes loom over his teammates’ amused faces, each painted with a shit-eating grin. Everyone was relieved that they weren’t the ones tagged with waking up the Captain from his nap.

Rumor around the base is, the last person from his original squadron (may they rest in peace) who had to wake up Captain Levi almost had his ear sliced off. Levi wasn’t even carrying any gear or anywhere near a knife.

One look at Mikasa told Eren that even she was glad she didn’t get picked for this task, and he shudders at the thought of being the poor bastard who had to lose his ear just so the Captain wouldn’t be late for his meeting. He quite liked having both of his ears attached to his head, thank you very much.

“It’s your task.”

“Yeah but why is it my task?!”

“Because you drew the short end of the stick, genius.” Jean replies easily.

Oh. Right.

“There has to be something we can do! Another plan. One that doesn’t involve waking up Captain Levi.” His eyes are pleading as he looks at his fellow soldiers, yet none of them seem willing to switch places with him.

Dammit. They were really going to make him work for it.

All his dignity is thrown out the window as Eren quickly gets on his knees and starts begging his friends, the shit-eating grins on their faces turning into wicked smiles as they watch him beg for mercy.

“Mikasa? What about you? Are you seriously going to let them send me to my death?” He asks, but Mikasa simply turns her head the other way as she speaks.

“He won’t kill you. Just sever your ear.”

Eren’s eye twitches.

She looks at him once more. “I’ll pick up your ear and ask the medical unit to sew it back on you. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

As proof, she holds up a glass jar and some tweezers. She had gloves on her hands.

God, he was going to kill his teammates.

Jean, apparently fed up with Eren’s incessant whining, marches towards him and grabs him by the collar, forcing him to stand up.

“Yeager, you trained in the military for three years. You’re a goddam titan shifter. You got kidnapped and held hostage. Three times. Waking up a growth-stunted man won’t be the last of you.”

Jean’s words are reassuring but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. No, his eyes are still amused. Very amused.

Scratch that, he wasn’t going to kill all his comrades. Just Jean. Jean and his extremely punchable horse-face.

Before he could even reply, Eren is shoved inside the Captain’s office with a quick “Off you go!” and the door is quickly shut behind him.

Fear.

This was truly fear.

Captain Levi’s office is empty, Eren notices. It’s spotless as always and tall shelves line every wall, each filled to the brim with books and documents. A lone door sits at the far right wall.

The Captain’s bedroom.

Slowly, with bathed breaths, he forces his legs to walk closer to the door that held his fate. Briefly, Eren thinks about getting some protective ear covers (just in case) but he quickly shoves that idea aside when he realizes that Jean and Conny were likely blocking the door from the outside.

That, and he concludes that the Captain would just break another part of his body. Maybe his hands. He didn’t need ears for handling ODM gear but he did need his hands.

“Captain?” Eren’s voice is weak but clear as he knocks on the door. “Captain Levi, you’re late for your meeting.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds, and there’s no response. He tries once more.

“Captain,” he repeats, louder this time. “Captain, you really need to wake up. Commander Erwin says your attendance is required for the meeting to start.”

But there’s still no response.

His hands are shaky and he’s still extremely nervous, but he knew Captain Levi’s presence was urgent to the meeting. Classified, Commander Erwin had said when he asked what it was about.

The third time Eren repeats his fruitless endeavors, he realizes that Captain Levi really wasn’t waking up any time soon.

He runs back to the door he came in from.

“Let me out!” He yells, hands throttling the doorknob as he tries to pull the door open but just as he suspected, Jean and Conny are sealing the exit and pulling at the doorknob as well.

“Let me out, dammit! Captain Levi won’t wake up, I don’t wanna die— just let me out!”

His feet are pressed up against the wall at this point and he manages to yank the door open by a few mere inches. A quick glimpse outside confirms his worse fears: all his friends are holding onto the doorknob as well, trying to keep the door closed. Even Mikasa.

He’d never felt so betrayed.

“You got this Eren!” His eyes drift to the back of the group where Sasha was smiling at him with a cheeky grin. “I’m sure the Captain won’t hurt you too badly when you wake him up.”

“No, fuck that! He’ll murder me and say it was because I went ape shit in titan form. He won’t even get arrested!”

It was when he made eye contact with Mikasa when he realized what true betrayal felt like.

“Good luck, Eren.” “No, don’t—!” Mikasa yanks the door close with one strong pull and he falls to the floor, on his ass.

The room is quite once more (save for the cheeky giggles on the other side of the door) and Eren brushes himself off as he stands up. He eyes the door to the Captain’s bedroom and he breathes in deeply when he comes to terms with what he has to do to wake the Captain from his deep slumber. He has to go inside.

He finds himself in front of the door once again, and this time his knocks are a little louder, a little more unsure, as he speaks. “Captain? I don’t think you’re waking up soon. I’m coming in.”

Slowly, he tells himself. Slowly.

Eren wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door to Captain Levi’s quarters. Maybe a torture chamber. Maybe swords and skeletons on the wall. Maybe a book on How To Murder With One Glare on a coffee table. He didn’t know.

But oddly, he thinks as he glances around, the Captain’s bedroom is... normal. The room’s dark, with its curtains drawn and the candles unlit. Tall shelves holding an impressive collection of books still line a portion of the walls. A bed is pressed up against the wall opposite the door, and there are two lumps underneath the blankets—

Wait.

Two lumps.

Two.

Captain Levi’s in bed with someone?

“Captain Levi,” Eren quietly calls out. He wonders who the hell managed to catch the Captain’s attention... or if someone even caught his attention at all. Captain Levi could just be hugging a pillow, he reasons. But Eren’s curiosity overtakes his fears and his legs start to walk closer towards the bed. “Captain?”

The blanket was pulled over the two sleeping lumps, and Eren gently tugs it down to reveal their faces.

No way.

No fucking way.

Briefly, Eren is speechless. His words get caught in his throat, hand frozen mid-air as he marvels at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier cuddled up within the arms of his lover. His normally stoic face is gone, replaced by relaxed eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, one cheek puffed up as it’s squished into his lover’s chest and his head is nuzzled into the crook of their neck. His arms disappear underneath the blankets, but judging by the fact that his lover’s arms were around him, Eren surmised that the Captain’s arms were most likely wrapped around his lover as well.

He looked innocent— cute, almost, and if Eren didn’t have to train under him everyday he might have actually believed that the Captain’s innocent sleeping face could be taken at face value.

Eren recognizes you, as well. He’s seen you around the base with your own squadron, an elite soldier with your own team of other elite soldiers. You’re known around the base as the squad leader who works their team to the ground, training your members so hard that they genuinely considered going to Captain Levi for comfort. But it wasn’t for naught, of course. Your squad’s survived longer than Captain Levi’s (again, may they rest in peace), barely making it out complete when the fiasco with the Female Titan occurred.

“Oi, Eren.” A voice behind him speaks, and Eren is briefly caught off guard as he turns around and makes eye contact with his comrades. Most likely, they got impatient with waiting for him and decided to see if he’d been murdered already.

Great, so now they decide they weren’t scared of going inside the Captain’s room.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean asks.

Eren is still speechless, opting to instead shakily point his finger towards the bed where Levi lay wrapped in your arms.

“H-he’s... he’s—“ “He’s what?”

He gulps and sighs deeply, speaking out so quietly his friends almost didn’t hear, speaking out in a mere shaky whisper as he utters his words.

“He’s a little spoon.”

Chaos is what Eren would use to describe what happened next. His comrades immediately jumped to stand next to him and take a look at the sight on bed, crowding around them as if they were a soap opera.

“Oh my god, he looks so...” Sasha starts in awe, hands on her cheeks and stars in her eyes but unsure how to finish her words.

Eren nods his head, understanding her speechlessness. “Innocent.”

Silently, his friends nod as well. But he couldn’t just stand here and gawk at Captain Levi’s sleeping form, he came here with a mission. “We need to wake him up. He’s already really late.” He says, more to himself than to his friends. He doesn’t wait for his comrades to exit the room as he gently places a hand on the Captain’s shoulders to shake him awake.

“Captain Levi—“

Eren learns his mistake too late as Levi’s eyes immediately snap open, hand clamping down on Eren’s and twisting it behind his back to disarm him.

“Eren!” Mikasa yells behind him, making a move to free him from Levi’s iron clad grip. From the corner of his eyes, Eren sees the person lying down next to Levi quickly sit up and throw something silver, flying past his comrades and towards Mikasa’s head, embedding itself deep within the wood next to her face.

Eren stares at his friends, all silent, frozen with fear, and rooted to their spots as their mouths hang open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Levi sneers, pushing down on Eren’s arm.

“C-captain, you’re late for the—“ “Holy shit, we’re late for the meeting.” You cut in, eyes wide in realization.

The Captain briefly glimpses at you and clicks his tongue as he releases Eren from his grip, the young soldier immediately slumping to the ground in relief. His arms and legs felt like jello and he could already feel himself melting into the wooden floor.

“Can someone explain to me why you brats thought it would be a good idea to enter my private quarters?” Levi glares. “Without my permission?”

Oh shit. They didn’t think this through.

A cold shiver runs down the soldier’s spines as they unanimously realize their mistake, something that Eren undoubtedly would’ve felt as well if he wasn’t too busy gawking at the realization that Captain Levi was shirtless (probably naked underneath the sheets), and you were shirtless as well (also probably naked underneath the sheets).

Levi catches Eren’s eyes staring at you, and he silently pulls the blanket over your chest and up to your collarbones without breaking his glare at the cadets.

Fuck. Eren thinks, eyes snapping to the ground as a blush creeps up his neck. Captain Levi’s definitely going to cut off both my ears now.

Conny, apparently already cracking under the pressure, flails his arms and yells as he tries to make a run for the door. Before anyone could even blink, another silver blur whizzes through the air, stabbing the wood directly in front of Conny as he freezes.

It was a knife. A fucking butter knife. Why the hell the Captain and his lover keep a butterknife next to them on the bed is something Eren doesn’t want to know.

“Since none of you lot have tongues,” Levi speaks. He’s not going to get an explanation soon. “We’ll discuss punishment later. For now,” He stands up, grabbing a still flustered Eren by the collar and dragging him towards the door, pushing out the rest of the team as well.

Eren doesn’t have time to be relieved about the fact that Captain Levi was not, for a fact, naked and was wearing black boxers. He was too busy getting pushed out the Captain’s bedroom and dragged through the office before finally getting thrown out into the hallway.

“For now, you leave me alone. I have a meeting to attend to.”

Levi slams the door shut at his awestruck soldiers, breathing in a frustrated sigh as he rests his hand on his forehead. He was getting a headache. He feels arms wrap around him from behind, hands resting on his chest. He sighs once more, this time in content, as he leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you kiss neck. “Thought you said you locked the door.”

“I did.” He turns around, still in your arms, and gently places his hands on your face as he kisses your nose. “Someone must’ve accidentally unlocked it when they were trying to grab onto something. Y’know, when they were getting fucked from behind.”

You chuckle. “Well, I’m sure that someone probably got sweet talked into getting fucked against the door.”

You break away from his arms after giving him a kiss, making your way back inside Levi’s bedroom, no doubt to get dressed for the meeting.

He stares at you as you walk, still naked and looking gorgeous. His face may be stoic but his heart was leaping, the gold ring on your left hand that matched his own glimmering in the light.

Your head peaks out from behind his bedroom door. “Round two before the meeting?” You ask cheekily.

Levi rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the bedroom as well, patting your bum as he passes by. “No. We’re already late.”

Eren clutches the pillow to his head, exhausted from the laps he’d done. He glances around the room, eyeing the tired faces of his comrades.

As punishment for invading your privacy, Captain Levi assigned them laps around the base until sundown plus two weeks of stable duty. As punishment for invading his privacy, Captain Levi deemed them unworthy of having their own private space and made the entire squadron bunk together in the small room beside his own.

Well, the entire squadron except for the Captain himself, at least.

Eren was pretty sure the room they were made to sleep in indefinitely was supposed to be a supply closet of some kind, but it fitted enough bunk beds for the entire team and was deemed a worthy location to carry out the rest of their punishment.

“How long do we have to sleep here?” Sasha asked dreadfully, hands covering her ears in attempts to block out the noises coming from the other room. The sound of a squeaky mattress and a wooden bed slamming against the adjacent wall continued.

“Until we learn our lesson,” Jean quotes the Captain. He himself looked extremely tired but he wasn’t trying to cover his ears like the rest of them were, undoubtedly because he’d already given up on getting a good night’s rest if the bags underneath his eyes were anything to go by.

“I don’t even care how long we have to sleep here anymore.” Conny interjects tiredly. “I just want to know when they’ll ever stop.”

As if to prove his point, a moan is heard through the walls. The soldiers flinch, still not accustomed to the sound. Mikasa silently runs her hands through Eren’s hair to calm him down.

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Jean whispers in horror. “How much stamina do those two have?”

Armin sighs, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier by the second. “They’re elite soldiers who’ve trained for years. They have more stamina than all of us combined.”

The whole room heaves out a collective groan, finally accepting that they weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

In the other room, Captain Levi bangs his fist against the shared wall. “Oi,” he calls out. “Shut up, you brats. We can hear you.”

Levi thrusts his hips, eyes glancing down at your pleasure-struck face as he grinds into you more. The action causes you to throw your head back and let out a desperate moan, finger nails scratch down his back. He grabs your hands to pin them to the sides of your head, leaning down to whisper “Not too harsh, darling. We don’t want you leaving marks now, do we?” He continues his pace, the bed’s wooden frame slamming against the wall as he once again speaks to his soldiers.

“We have thin walls, y’know.”

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