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reidbae · 2 years ago

Text

Ecstasy

summary: You’re always nervous around your professor, which he has taken note to, but had chosen not to speak on. It’s not until you come to his classroom late to turn in a missing assignment that he decides to ask you about it, and he’ll do anything for the answer.

warnings/mentions: dom!spencer x sub!reader, teacher x student relationship, tall x short, reader is 22+ and spencer is 32+, age gap, AFAB reader, use of Y/N in slowburn but pet names used during smut (sweetheart, baby, doll, honey, etc), degradation, praise, choking, fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, vaginal sex, office sex technically lol, literally just filth dude

wc: 4.4k

a/n: hey, i’m kit! i write a lot in my free time and i think it’s high time i made a tumblr. this is my first post and the first smut i’ve written in a while. this is partially slowburn but it’s MOSTLY smut. anyway, hope you enjoy and also know that i take requests!

You knocked on the classroom door before entering it, shutting it quietly behind you. “Professor Reid?” you called out, unsure if the intelligent doctor was even here so late.

He looked up from his desk, his nose previously buried in paperwork. He was no doubt grading assignments, and you felt a twinge of guilt for interrupting him.

You nervously cleared your throat, beginning to approach his desk. “I’m sorry for interrupting you. I- I know it’s late. I just have that missing essay you wanted me to make up?” you explained, holding out the essay that you had finished shortly before you got here.

You noticed Spencer’s eyes darting to your clothing, lingering there for a few moments as he seemed to be taking in the view of you. You’d pulled on the first thing you’d found in your closet, a skimpy red dress that was tugging forcefully against your body. Ultimately, however, Spencer didn’t say anything and cleared his throat, then accepted your paper from you.

He looked it over for a second, then spoke up. “This is a lot of work, Y/N. It only needed to be two pages,” he pointed out to you.

You began to sweat at that comment, gazing at him with an apprehensive expression. “I- I know, sir. I just wanted to make up for the fact that I’m turning it in late. I hope you won’t take points off,” you explained. He may have made your palms sweat, but you did still care heavily about your grades.

“I’m not going to,” he said with a soft smile, placing your essay down on his desk. “Your essay seems to be well written, as usual, from what I’ve read so far.”

You could feel your face heat up at his praise and you gently nodded. “Thank you. And thank you again for giving me an extension.”

He nodded, too. “You’re welcome. But I hope you’re aware that I won’t always be so understanding, Y/N. I was glad to give you an extension this time, but I won��t shy away from taking points off if this happens again. I want you to learn to be more punctual,” he sternly continued.

It was conversations like these that made you heavily aware that no matter what you felt, Spencer was still your professor, and he wasn’t afraid to remind you of that. Shyly, you nodded your head, becoming more nervous as the seconds went on. “I- I understand, Professor Reid. I promise that it won’t happen again,” you could barely stammer out, coherent sentences beginning to fail you.

He smiled up at you and gave you another respectful nod. “Good. Make sure you live up to that,” he said firmly.

Did he have to be so overly stern? “I will,” you simply returned. You weren’t really sure what to say at this point now that the reason you’d come here had been addressed. You took a shaky breath, then nodded in finality. “Well, um, I guess I’d better get going now. Again, sorry to disturb you so late, Professor. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you timidly told Spencer, turning on your feet and starting to walk towards the door.

Spencer’s husky voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “Can I ask you something, Y/N?” he asked you. Nervously, you turned back around, looking at him.

“What is it, sir?” you politely responded, giving him your best innocent smile.

“Why are you always so nervous around me?”

Your eyes widened as your cheeks flushed red, caught off guard by his sudden question. You knew that, at some point, he would confront you about your continued nervousness around him that had started the second he became your professor three months ago. You were awful at hiding it: You blush and sweat, you stutter and stammer, and you toy with your hands and hair when he talks to you. You couldn’t be blamed for your attractiveness to the handsome doctor, but, really, you wish you were better at burying it.

“N- nervous?” you responded, in a feeble attempt to sound clueless. “I- I’m not- What makes you say that, Professor?” you asked, knowing exactly why he was asking.

“You seem much more nervous and tense when you talk to me as opposed to when you talk to others. It’s something I’ve noticed since the beginning of the semester,” he explained to you, folding his hands atop his desk.

“Uh, well, you know,” you nervously laughed, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. “I’m just shy.” Yeah, right.

“You’re loud and exuberant around your other professors, along with your classmates. I’ve heard you laugh and joke with quite a few people. It seems like this nervous demeanor is only saved for me,” he pointed out, sounding completely convinced that he was correct in his observations. He paused for a brief moment before continuing on. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Your expression turned shocked at the fact that he could possibly think that anything he did would make anyone uncomfortable. “No, no, I swear, it’s not like that,” you mumbled shyly, shaking your head.

“Forgive me for thinking so, Y/N, but my words do hold some truth to them. You are aware of this behavior that you’ve constantly displayed towards me over the last few months, though, correct?” he asked. His words came out so fluently, as though he had been meaning to come to you about this for longer than you’d anticipated. In regards to how you were speaking at the moment, you wish you could say the same.

“S- Somewhat,” you admitted.

He looked more intrigued now that you had confirmed the fact that you were nervous around him. He leaned back in his chair now, hands in his lap as he stared up at you. “Then, tell me what it is that’s making you nervous. I’d like to clear up whatever it is.”

You immediately shook your head, eyes still averted from the brunette professor. “I- It’s nothing.”

“It’s not ‘nothing’ if you’re constantly stuttering when you talk to me, or fidgeting with your hands when I walk by your desk,” he said, his stern tone growing increasingly prominent with each word he said. “I want to know what’s going on, Y/N.”

“Nothing’s going on,” you instantly defended. You were not in the mood to blow your cover about this. Not today, and maybe not ever.

“Oh, really?” he asked you in return, cocking an eyebrow. “You just told me you know that your behavior has been odd over the last few months,” he sighed. He grabbed a pen on his desk, clicking it a few times before continuing. “You and I both know there’s something wrong. This issue will never be resolved if you don’t discuss it with me. I promise that it will be to your benefit.”

You couldn’t help but remain silent. If you spoke, you’d stutter, only further proving Spencer’s point. You didn’t shake your head or give any sign at all that you’d heard him.

At this, he sighed again, shaking his head from what you could see out of the corner of your eye. “Am I going to have to figure it out for myself?” he asked you in a genuine tone. His voice, you noticed, was notably lower than it was before.

You only rolled your eyes in response to that. The fact that he had asked why you were nervous was one thing, but the idea of him attempting to figure it out was much more daunting, and you weren’t looking forward to it.

“Don’t give me that, Y/N,” he demanded when you rolled your eyes, tone fierce. “If you can’t verbally tell me what’s going on, your body language will.“

“My body language has nothing to tell,” you tried to correct him, trembling hands finding your hair and messing with it anxiously, eyes still torn from Spencer’s.

“You seriously believe that?” he almost scoffed, shaking his head. “I teach you how to read this stuff. Your body language has nothing to tell? You mean your shaky hands, stuttering, and red face have nothing to tell? Or, what about the fact that your hands are tangled in your hair? Or, that you can’t even look at me?” he went on, and he didn’t stop there.

“Do you want me to list every possibility I can think of until you tell me why you’re so nervous?” he asked. There was no tone of joke in his words: You knew that he would do it, and he’d do it with pride, at that.

“No,” you told him, the first word you’d said since the beginning of his ramble.

“Are you sure? Maybe that’s what you need.” Maybe it was the hour or the context of the situation, but you could swear for a second that this sentence had some air of teasing to it.

“I- I don’t, Professor Reid,” you stammered out.

“Tell me something, Y/N. Why are you the only student I have who still calls me ‘Professor Reid?’” he questioned.

“It’s respectful,” you tried, but it sounded like bullshit even as the words left your tongue. Spencer wasn’t that far off your age. Every one of your classmates called him by his first name, as he had said he was comfortable with several times. But you knew that calling him by his first name would put him on the same level as you, and if you didn’t see him as your professor, you weren’t sure you’d be able to control yourself.

“I’ve said several times that it’s okay to call me Spencer. All of my students do, and some even call me ‘Reid,’ they’re that comfortable. Yet, you only use ‘Professor,’ ‘Professor Reid,’ and ‘sir’ to address me,” he went on. You slowly started to realize that he was profiling you, and you felt your face grow redder, already knowing the outcome: He would figure you out.

In hopes of making yourself seem clueless, you shrugged. He wasn’t buying it, and asked, “Does this have anything to do with your continued nervousness around me?”

“I- I’m not nervous,” you could barely manage to get out, let alone lie properly. Deflection was your last hope of getting Spencer to drop this topic, a hope that you were almost positive would not be worth hoping for.

“Look at me, then, Y/N.”

No. Immediately, no.

“If you’re so ‘not nervous’ around me like you say, then look at me. If you’re not anxious, or shy, you should have no problem doing so,” Spencer said in a confident tone.

“I- I can’t look at you,” you immediately returned. You wanted to, but given the context of this situation, you knew he’d easily get you to talk if you did.

“Why?” he asked, his tone one of pure and utter confusion. Because I’m afraid of what I’ll say if I do.

“I just can’t,” you repeated, rubbing your eyes.

He sighed again, sounding genuinely exasperated. “Do you need me to profile it out of you, Y/N? Because I have no trouble doing that,” he said sternly. “I want you to feel comfortable around me. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on with you.”

When you didn’t respond, he took a deep breath, tapping his fingers on his desk before standing up and continuing. You were really looking away now. The fact that he was at least five inches taller than you was not helping.

“You show common signs of tenseness when I’m around you, like a stiff jaw, sweating, shaking, and, above all, avoiding eye contact,” he started, and you scoffed. Fucking profilers.

“Your body language offers common tells of your continued nervousness around me, like touching your face, constantly fidgeting with your hands and hair, and turning red when I say your name.”

“Stop,” you managed to say, your face growing darker at his words. But he continued.

“You’re talkative and open with others, but closed off and shy with me. You talk with your hands during class but they find their way into your hair the second I’m in your presence,” he went on.

“Stop,” you tried again, your voice growing quieter and your singular word coming out in a low whisper.

“You’re my only student who seems to refuse to call me by my first name. You can present in my class without flash cards but are unable to form clear, coherent sentences around me-“

“For fuck’s sake, Spencer, I’m attracted to you!” you finally blurted, unable to take any more of this.

He stopped talking, looking at you as if he was physically unable to process what you had just said. “What?”

“I’m attracted to you,” you repeated again, finally looking up at him and now realizing how hard it would be. Your cheeks were clearly flushed red, and your body was trembling.

He chuckled for a second, then immediately stopped. “That’s what this is?” he asked you in disbelief, his tone evidently amused, as if this was something he heard on the daily basis. “Attraction?”

“Yes,” you returned.

“And it makes you this nervous to talk to me?” he asked you genuinely, but his voice still showed underlying tones of amusement.

“Yes.”

He thought for a moment, truly taking in your words. Then, a faint smirk danced across his face as he walked around his desk with his hands in his pockets, stopping a few feet away from you.

You refused to give him whatever satisfaction he seemed to be gaining by teasing you and looked away as he looked at you. He chuckled, stepping closer. “You’re nervous because of a little crush? Come on, Y/N. How old are you?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes again and remained silent.

“Look at me,” he said sternly, taking another step closer. There was now minimal distance between the two of you. It would be easy to lean and kiss him. What the hell is he doing to you?

All you did was shake your head. Absolutely not.

He reached out to cup your cheek, caressing his thumb over it as he looked down at you with a smirk, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye.

“You’re always so good in class. Be a good girl for me now, won’t you, Y/N?” he cooed, continuing to smooth his thumb over your face. You felt yourself growing redder by the second.

You shook your head, not at him, but at yourself for what you were about to do. You were too easy. You made eye contact with him, gazing lewdly up into his auburn eyes.

“That’s it,” he murmured. You were correct: He was smirking at you. He spoke up again. “Three months is a long time, sweetheart. How many fantasies have you had about me in that time?”

You blushed harder at that, stuttering out, “A lot.”

“Voice one to me,” Spencer continued in a raspy tone. His voice was riling you up, and you were almost unsure of how to answer. “What’s on your mind?”

“I- I’ve thought about-,” you tried, but you stopped, unsure if you should even speak the explicit fantasy that came to your mind first into the universe.

Noticing your hesitation, Spencer said, “You can say it, sweetheart. What have you thought about?” he demanded, although his words were almost sweet.

You took a breath of courage before replying, “A- About you, bending me over your desk,” you barely managed to stutter out.

He chuckled even further at your shy admission. “Doing what to you?” he asked in his teasing tone.

You let out a small frustrated groan. Isn’t it obvious?

“Fucking me.”

He gave you a flirty smile at your words. “What do you want, sweetheart?” he now asked you in a raspy tone, the distance between you becoming too hard to resist closing.

“To take you across this desk,” you openly admitted, finding it difficult to stare at his eyes when his lips were so close.

“Then do it.”

His words mixed with his proximity gave you the confidence to finally pull him in, wrapping your arms around his neck and fervently kissing him. To your surprise, he reciprocated instantly, roughly grabbing your waist and backing you into his desk.

He lifted you up with ease and sat you on the only part of it that wasn’t filled with papers, his lips never leaving yours as his tongue explored your mouth. After a few minutes, there was nowhere his hands hadn’t roamed, as he shamelessly grabbed your neck, cupped your tits, and squeezed your ass.

His fingers found their way under your dress, his cold hands meeting your warm skin. You shuddered at the contact, moaning surprisedly into your kiss. You could feel him tugging at the hem of your panties as he pulled back from you, breathing heavily.

“Professor,” you breathed out, calling him ‘Professor’ out of habit. He shook his head at you in response to it.

“Say my name,” he demanded of you, continuing his movements with his hand as he looked down at you.

“Sp- Spencer,” you stammered out, breath quickening at his dominant tone.

“Attagirl,” Spencer praised, hands dipping suddenly into your panties. You gasped, looking up at him with a sultry stare. His fingers slid in between your soaked folds and you involuntarily let out a whorish moan.

“Fuck, doll, you’re already this wet?” he asked you in a tone that was a mixture of both surprise and excitement as his fingers felt all of your built up arousal. “Is this all for me?”

You didn’t know what to say, in pure and utter shock that this was even happening.

He gave you a look that screamed both pleading and demanding at the same time. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he cooed, moving his fingers in no particular direction, which made you moan softly anyway.

“I- It’s all for you, Spencer,” you stammered.

“There you go. I like hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Spencer cooed. He buried a finger into your cunt, and you groaned at the sudden intrusion. He started slow, making sure you were comfortable with this sensation, then stuck another in, quickening his pace.

You arched your back as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot that you had never been able to reach when you were touching yourself alone. He knew exactly what he was doing, using another finger to rub slow circles around your clit. He pumped his fingers in and out fast, eliciting several moans of pleasure from you.

You leaned in to fiercely kiss him as he continued to finger you, sliding your tongue into his mouth. He accepted it gladly, gently choking you with his other hand as the two of you kissed. You groaned into it, his use of force getting you closer and closer to your high.

He pulled away, then started on your neck, kissing and sucking harshly as he continued to finger you below. His pace was getting faster, pushing his fingers deeper with every second that went by. When he curved them further than he had before, he found exactly where your pleasure point was: Your G-Spot.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you groaned out, your climax directly around the corner as he left kisses and no doubt hickies all over your neck.

He payed close attention to your reaction, making sure to continue to finger you directly where you needed him and continuing to rub your clit in quick motions. You were nearly there, and he surely knew that. However, suddenly, all movements ceased, and he pulled away from your neck to lustfully look down on you, retracting his fingers from your wetness.

You looked up at him with a mirroring lustful expression, but only because you were so close to releasing, and he had just taken that away from you.

“Sp- Spencer? Why’d you stop?” you stuttered out a little frustratedly.

“Because that’s not where I want you to finish,” he said, like it was the most simple thing to humanly comprehend. He backed up a step, then lifted you from his desk, spinning you round and bending you over it in one swift movement. You gasped as his hand found your lower back, his crotch pressed up on you and his bulge pressing into your ass.

“Spencer-“

“You said you saw me bending you over across my own desk, right?” Spencer reminded you in a low voice.

“Y- yeah,” you returned in a needy voice.

“Thought so.”

You could hear him unbuckling his belt from behind, working quickly to undo it with his only free hand. The sound was followed by that of his zipper, and then of him shrugging his pants partially down. He then turned his attention to you, pulling your dress up and revealing your red panties that matched the color of your dress. He chuckled, no doubt at that fact, then pulled them down.

He took his cock out of his boxers and pumped it up and down a few times. You tried to turn your head back to look, but he used his free hand to turn your head back around. You were about to say something about it, until he suddenly thrusted deep into your cunt, and you let out a whorish moan.

“F- Fuck, you’re so big, Spencer,” you couldn’t help but moan out. He was far inside of you, and his throbbing cock was no doubt seven inches minimum.

“You can take it,” he groaned back, placing his hand on the back of your head as he moved slowly but deeply into you. His hands roamed your body again, settling on your tits. He used a hand to grab one, eliciting a mewl from you. He fondled it with force, running his thumb in forceful circles around your tit as he pounded into you relentlessly.

“You like being fucked like this, sweetheart?” he cooed in your ear, voice audibly raspy as his movements didn’t cease.

“Yes, sir,” you responded in a slutty voice, calling him ‘sir’ for the first time in what felt like years.

“Such a, fuck- Slut for me,” he said in between thrusts. His pace was getting faster now as he rammed into you from behind, going at a speed you were finding difficult to not readily climax from. His words only enhanced this feeling.

He grabbed the back of your head by your hair, turning you to face a part of the classroom to your left.

“That’s where you sit in my class. Perfect view of my desk. Do you fantasize about this when you look at it?” he asked. His words came out in groans as he tried to both talk and maintain his quick pace.

“Maybe,” you breathed as you looked at your own desk where you had been sitting mere hours beforehand, never in a million years anticipating this.

“That’s not an answer,” he forcefully said, ceasing his movements and beginning to pull his cock from your cunt.

“Wait- Fuck,” you sighed, whimpering when you no longer felt him inside of you. “Yes, I do,” you admitted, telling him exactly what he wanted to hear.

He chuckled at your needy attempt to feel him inside of you again, teasing your wet entrance with the tip of his cock. “That desperate, huh?”

“Y- Yes, sir,” you said softly, finding it hard to get any words out as you took note of his teasing. He thrusted back into you, pushing hard and fast.

“Slut,” Spencer grunted. He pulled your head back by your hair, managing to grip it gently despite his rough pace. “My fucking slut.”

You moaned at his use of degradation, feeling your climax beginning to bubble up inside of you again, but you held it back, wanting to prolong the pleasurable feeling that you were receiving.

“Such a, fuck- Slutty dress,” he suddenly commented, toying with the hem on your dress. “Always wearin’ skirts hiked all the way up to your ass. Hoping I’d notice that, sweetheart?” he asked, the hand that was pulling your hair roaming over to your neck and choking you.

All you could do was nod as your words failed you, coherent sentences vacant in your head and absent from your mouth, as they usually were regardless.

“Use your words, baby,” he demanded of you, squeezing down harder on your neck.

You groaned out, complying and stammering, “Y- Yes,” in response to his question.

“That’s a good girl. Doin’ so fucking good for me,” Spencer praised you.

You were moaning loudly now, the sound of both of your grunts filling the air as Spencer continued at his quick speed. You could feel your eyes watering at the pressure and size of his cock that was deep into your cunt, and your climax was approaching as fast as his pace was going.

“Spencer,” you whispered, cheeks hot and absolutely flushed.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer groaned back.

“I’m close,” you breathed, words breaking.

He let out a soft moan at your words, then moved his hand away from your neck and down to your clit. He rubbed it in quick circles as he had done before, gladly helping you to reach your high. You bit your lip, loud moans and whines falling from your mouth.

“That’s it, doll. I want to hear you,” he demanded of you in response to your moans, his long fingers moving on your throbbing clit as fast as his cock was pounding into your cunt.

You happily complied, continuing to moan out as broken murmurs of his name fell from your lips. He let out his own moans as he chased his high, too. He used his free hand to grip your ass, holding you roughly as he groaned behind you.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Let it out,” he groaned.

His words pushed you over the threshold, being all you needed to finally moan out his name loud as waves of pleasure crashed through you. Spencer groaned out your name, too, as he finished inside of you, gripping your ass as roughly as he possibly could.

When you were both done, he pulled out, breathing heavily as he returned his cock to his boxers. You pulled your panties up and your dress back down, breathing heavily too as you looked back at Spencer with tousled hair.

Spencer stuck the two fingers he’d used to finger you into his mouth, sucking away whatever elements of your release he had managed to get on his hand. You let out a soft moan at the view as Spencer looked down on you. He moved his other hand on your waist.

“You taste sweet,” he whispered to you, caressing his thumb over your hip. Your legs were shaking, and, taking note of this, he picked you up and sat you on his desk. You smiled tiredly up at him as he did.

“I take it this means I’ll get a good grade on my essay?” you joked, giggling.

He smiled down at you, planting a sweet kiss onto your forehead. “A+, baby. A+.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

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tswhiisftteedr · 8 months ago

Note

Hiya!! I was wondering if I could ask for some nsfw fem reader x husk (hazbin hotel) where husk basically just eating reader out, face sitting etc.

Also keep up the good writing!! I love your writing from what I’ve seen and i hope you do well with your other requests too!!

Don’t worry, I’m right here with you. ☆ Oneshot

Soft Dom!Husk x Sub!Hotel Resident!Fem!Reader:

After spending quite sometimes getting to know each other, you and husk finally begin dating. Anyways, today Lucifer came to the hotel for the first time and that was a super, but it wasn’t the main event of yours and husk’s days. So after an altercation with Alastor, husk seek solace in you for comfort, which you give, and he decides to thank you in his own special way for it.

Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, that scene where alastor uses husk soul chain and threatens him, Unspecified Vices, Mutual Pinning, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Soft Husk, Sorta Bad Written Comfort.

Words: 10567

Note: There is smut, BUT, beside the intro which is just suggestive, the smut will be at the end, so If you don’t want smut and just fluff you can just not read it. It’s the same with my last Zestial work, it’s like 3/4 sfw and 1/5 smut. Btw Antonio Esfandiar aka "The Magician" is a professional poker player and former professional magician, known for his elaborate chip tricks. That’s the only reason I mentioned him if you were curious about that lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Honestly, you had attempted to question how things had ended up like that—

“Ah, fuck, Husk, it's too much!” You cried out in overstimulation.

“Shh, it's okay, baby, I know you can handle it,” he reassured, softly stroking the underside of your right thigh to offer comfort.

— But truthfully, every train of thought you’d tried to start would derail quicker than the previous one. Without doubt, that man, Husk— he would be the end of you.

Yet, no need for worry as, I, your illustrious ‘historian,’ am here to recount the tale of how you found yourself in this predicament; as you're obviously too preoccupied getting your brains fucked out by Antonio Esfandiari over there to form any sort of recollection, or even a coherent thought for that matter.

Now, let’s backpedal four months ago, shall we?

You had been in the infernal realm for a little while, precisely half a year. You managed to secure a job and a place to stay, but ‘living’ down here was anything but easy.

To survive, you had to stretch your earnings, rationing food and water to make them last longer than they should, leaving you hungry more than once.

And when you were really desperate for cash—well, let's just say you had to resort to some unsavory means to get your hands on it.

Additionally, it had been a month since Princess Morningstar introduced her hotel to the public of the hell on 666 news. As expected, the masses of sinners inhabiting the pride ring ridiculed the princess and her redemption-themed endeavors.

Initially, the idea seemed far-fetched, as if redemption were truly an option — Why hadn't anybody else proposed it before?

That's what you and your friends had agreed upon when first watching the interview. But as time passed, you began to reconsider your friend group's shared consensus. Perhaps, just maybe, ‘redemption wasn't such a crazy concept after all.’

That's why you now found yourself standing in front of the princess's Hazbin Hotel, formerly known as Happy Hotel, nervous and with slightly sweaty palms.

Summoning all the courage you could muster, you knocked on the large, stained glass-filled windows, as ‘it was now or never’.

After waiting patiently for about five minutes, just as you were about to turn away—possibly never to return—as the building seemed vacant. The large doors swung open, revealing the princess herself standing before you.

"Um, is this the redemption hotel from the news?" you inquired, even though it was plain as day from the building's illuminated 'Hazbin Hotel' sign and the fact that the princess, the one who pitched the hotel on 666 news, was literally standing in front of you.

With the brightest and most joyful smile you'd seen down here, she opened her mouth to speak. "Oh mygod!Ohmygod!Ohmygod!Areyousomeonewho’sactuallyinterestedinthehotel???likeyougenuinelywanttotryandgiveredemptionashot???!!!Holyshit,thisisthehotel’sgreatestsinceSirPentioushasjoined!!!!" Princess Morningstar blurted out in a rush, as if she didn't deliver the information fast enough, you would leave.

As you tried to make sense of her rapid jumble of words—something about 'actually wanting to be redeemed' and someone named 'Sir Righteous' or was it 'Sir Delicious'?—you also noticed a crowd of individuals walking closer to the doors.

The group consisted of six people: A woman with an X over her eye, wielding an angelic weapon—'Delightful,' you sarcastically thought.

A grumpy tuxedo cat man with a red bow, his fur acting as some sort of substitute for his lack of shirt; he was also 'sort of handsome, y'know?'.

Then there was a snake man that screamed steampunk; he seemed sort of familiar, but you didn’t remember where you’d seen his slithery mug before.

There was also a tiny woman with one eye; she seemed full of energy and sorta stabby.

Then, second to last, we had—Unholy hell! It’s the porn actor Angel Dust! You remembered the princess mentioning him as a patron here, but you hadn’t expected to encounter him in the flesh and fur.

He seemed to notice the starstruck gaze in your eyes caused by his presence, so he shot you a wink. With a bit of internal fangirling along the way, you finally managed to get your heart rate to go back down.

You then shift your attention back to the rest of the crowd and notice the final person standing there, and HOLY SHIT, THE RADIO DEMON IS THERE—!

Your heart rate shoots back up, and you take a step back in fear, causing you to stumble over a pebble and fall on your ass. You curse yourself for being too engrossed in the sight of a celebrity to ignore the immense danger that is literally right there in front of you.

"Why, hello there, and who might you be, you wayward soul? It’s not often that we see sinners seeking out redemption." the Radio Demon inquired, accompanied by what you could only assume was his ‘iconic smile’.

You obviously didn’t know firsthand, as, for one, you hadn’t met the demon before, and for another, he was apparently in the sixth year and a half of his seven-year getaway when you manifested.

But you had heard the stories, and they were enough to make you absolutely petrified at the sight of that grin plastered on his face.

He seemed to rather enjoy your pitiful display, while you only grew more terrified.

“Oh no, are you okay? Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” The princess asked, breaking you away from your scared state and extending her hand.

With a bit of hesitation, you took it. “Uh, no. No, I’m okay, it was just a little fall.” you told her.

“Oh, okay, I’m glad it was nothing. Anyways, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, we are so glad to have you here!” She said as she began to lead you inside, and the others followed, each finding their place within the hotel;

The cat man heading to the bar, Angel Dust lounging on one of the couches, the little woman chasing bugs around, and both the radio demon and the spear-wielding woman following you and Charlie.

Once she had you comfortably seated on one of the lounge's couches, she began to introduce herself and everyone present. “Sooo, hi. I’m Charlie, the owner and founder of this hotel.”

“I think she already knows who you are, princess” the cat man interjected. “Oh, right,” she realized.

While all you could think upon hearing him speak was, 'Fuck. Even his voice is sexy.'

“Anywho, this is Alastor, our gracious facility manager.” Charlie said, pointing at the Radio Demon. “Your pleasure to meet.” he told you.

“And this is Vaggie, the co-founder and my girlfriend.” Charlie continued. Vaggie approached you, and you shook hands. “Nice to meet you.” she said. “Likewise.” you responded.

“Next up, we have Husk, our bartender, and Niffty, our cleaning staff.” she gestures towards the bar. “Nice to meet you.” Husk offers, while Niffty chimes in with a big, eccentric “Hello!”

“And lastly, we have our residents and your potential fellow guests if you decide to stay.” she adds with a slightly unsure chuckle. “Angel and Sir Pentious!”

“No offense, Charls, but the broad probably knew who I was, no need for an intro.” Angel quips teasingly before approaching you. “But anyways, it’s good to see a new face around here, so welcome, toots.” he says, extending his hand, which you shake. “Thanks for your hospitality.” you reply.

Feeling a little less on edge, you approach the final resident. “Sir Pentious, right? It’s nice to meet you.” you say, extending your hand. “Oh, no, darling, the pleasurrre izzz all mine.” he replies, shaking your hand. Just as you finish, you hear a small gasp from Charlie.

You turn to look at her, and she says apologetically, "I totally forgot to ask you for your name! I am so sorry for that." With a comforting smile, you tell her, "It’s no worries, really. I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you again, I guess."

“Nice to meet you again too, Y/N,” she says with a giggle. Then she adds, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what brought you to the hotel? I mean, what led you our way?”

“I saw your interview on 666 news with Katie Killjoy a month ago.” you tell her.

“Oh, you did? Um, did you see alllll of it?” Charlie asks, momentarily shocked and a little nervous afterward, but you understood why.

“If you’re talking about the fist fight and the news anchor on fire, yes, I did. It’s probably the thing most people remember from that news segment.” you answer her, confirming her assumptions.

“Oh, right.” Charlie says, a little embarrassed.

“Well, if you saw that, then why are you here? Are you trying to mock us in person?” Vaggie asks you, getting slightly defensive as the interview was not the best display of the hotel.

“No, nothing like that.” you reassure at first. Then you continue, “Well, actually, at first when I saw it on the news, I definitely laughed at the idea of a redemption hotel. So did my friends. Actually, I think everyone did. I heard from one of my imp friends that even in the other rings, people were making fun of it.” You say, deflating Charlie further and further with each word.

"But," you begin once more, bringing back some sort of hope to her,

"The more I thought about it, the less crazy stupid it all seemed. I mean, at first, I was like, 'If it's such a good idea, why didn't anyone think of it before?'.

Then, with more reflection, I realized that even if someone had pitched something like it before, there wouldn't be a big trace of it anyways.

I mean, you saw how people reacted when you presented it; it was made fun of and forgotten by most.

Also, considering the fact that the powerhouses of our ring profit from the fact that there are people down here to exploit, even if someone had the same idea and people to back them up, it would definitely have been shut down and covered up.

Because if people get redeemed and get out of hell, the big fishes don’t make as much profit anymore." You explain, and this seemed to reason with Charlie and the others around.

“Honestly, I think the only reason you don’t have people directly targeting you and your hotel is because you’re the princess. I mean, sure, people can make fun of you, but actually attacking you, well, that’s a no-go territory,” you add on.

And everyone, even Charlie, who seemed to like staying in the delusion that ‘in every demon there is a rainbow,’ couldn’t help but agree. If she wasn’t the princess, there was sure to be some people coming by and hurting everyone here, ‘just because.’

“Anyways, when I made peace with the concept, I thought, why not me when it came to redemption. I mean, sure, I did some unsavory things to end up down here, but I wasn’t some serial killer or sex trafficker either,” you explain further.

“Plus, I have all eternity, well, unless an exorcist’s blade or some Carmine weapon-wielding freak comes my way—“ you slightly deviate but remember to get back on track,

“Anyways, the point is if I can do whatever for ‘basically forever,’ why not give redemption a shot. I mean, worst-case scenario, I just avoid doing bad stuff for nothing, but at least that simultaneously keeps me out of trouble, so it’s not ‘that bad,’ you know?” You finish your explanation and look back at Charlie to see the immense joy in her eyes caused by someone actually taking a full interest in being part of her project.

“Well, I am so glad you think that way, Y/N. And the fact that you decided to come here even though your entourage still thinks, well, that the hotel is a joke, was very brave of you.

Also, just letting you know, as you may not be aware since it was not mentioned during the interview you watched, but here at the Hazbin Hotel, we offer free rooms, food, electricity, and if you're feeling like it, from time to time alcohol, though moderation is more than encouraged.” she informed.

“Well, that’s great. I mean, I didn’t really think about the fact that you may have asked for cash for staying here, but as it is some sort of a ‘nonprofit,’ it does make sense that you don’t.” you tell her in a relieved manner.

“Of course, we want to help people here. It wouldn’t be fair for us to ask money from our guests. Anyways, why don’t I go over what would be your weekly schedule, hotel-wise, as a resident, and then I can show you to your room?” she asked.

“That would be wonderful.” you tell her.

It had been a couple of weeks since you joined the hotel, and you would say that things have been going ‘alright.’

I mean, Charlie’s ‘activities’ were more often silly than not, but they didn’t necessarily do any harm. The hardest part was staying away from your vices—‘that was the real kicker’.

Which brings us to why you were currently seated on a bar stool, gradually drowning yourself in alcohol as Husk poured drink after drink at your request.

"You know, if you keep pushing away your vices but then return here every time instead, you're just fostering a dependence on booze," Husk cautioned, sliding your fifth Midori Sour over to you. "And when you finally have to cut out drinking altogether, you'll likely revert to your old habits. You're turning this ‘rehabilitation thing’ into a sort of yo-yo diet, if you ask me.”

You stared at the drink after finishing your previous one.

— You had first tasted something like it when you went out for your first legal drink at 21, asking for something sweet with a bit of a kick alcohol-wise.

The bartender had recommended it to you, then as you drank it, he went on a rant about how it was "made with Midori melon liqueur, lemon juice, and simple syrup" and that "It's sweet, refreshing, and has a medium alcoholic content" — the “perfect drink for you”.

He was good-looking, like the current bartender in front of you, so you had let him talk—just like you let Husk talk.

Sure, having spent a considerable amount of time down here and living well beyond his twenties, you could acknowledge that Husk did have some wisdom to himself.

However, there were moments — particularly when he embarked on his tangents about how "you won’t find your answers at the bottom of a bottle,"— then, you simply wanted to shut him up.

Whether it was by pointing out that while he might be correct in his assessment, he failed to offer real advice on how to find those answers. Saying shit like "don’t do that, there are better ways to deal with your issues" yet always neglecting to explain what those "other ways" might be — frankly, it was all quite frustrating.

But each time it occurred, you chose to keep your mouth shut to avoid any conflict. After all, from what you had observed, you genuinely liked Husk as a person and didn’t want any tension between the two of you.

Nevertheless, despite your growing frustration with the men, your mind couldn’t help but entertain the other option that would allow you to ‘catch the cat’s tongue’; wondering how quickly he would stop talking if you pressed your lips to his.

Yet, ultimately, it remained a mere fantasy, something confined to the realm of imagination, one never to enter reality. —

“Thanks, Husk,” was all you said as you took the glass and downed your goddamn Midori Sour.

Several hours had passed since your fifth drink, and more than one other had entered your system by now. You and Husk were now discussing on a more personal level.

“It’s all so weird, you know. It’s not like my soul is trapped in a contract like yours or Angel’s,” Husk’s face slightly winced at the reminder that he, in fact, didn’t own his own soul. However, he stayed quiet and let you talk without interjecting, as he respected you and you were pouring your heart out. “Yet, I can’t help but feel like it is,” you told him. “I try to be better, I really do, but it’s so, so hard not to do the bad things I’m not supposed to do when they all feel so fun and right to me in the moment. I mean, I do regret them afterward, but I keep wanting to do them anyway.”

You take a sip of your drink, and Husk follows suit. “You know, you would think the moment I feel the most trapped is right after I’ve done what I wasn’t supposed to,” you muse, contemplating the complexities of your situation. “I had my fun, and as I suffer the consequences, I feel encaged. But it’s not. It’s actually right before I even do it. I feel it in my whole body—a feeling that this is the only way for me, that I can never let go of this high.

No matter how hard I push myself to get better, to be better, I’m not really leaving the cage. I’m just pacing around in circles, pretending that the loop isn’t there and I’m actually getting away.

I just want to run, but I’m afraid that if I actually try, I’ll probably just hit my head against the cage’s bars,” you confess, tears of anxiety welling in your eyes as you begin to sniffle.

With that, Husk grabs your hand and begins to rub soothing circles on it with his thumb, offering comfort in his touch as he speaks up. “Listen, I can’t say that everything will be alright. That's bullshit, and that saying has always been bullshit, but it’s even more full of holes down here,” he pauses to take another sip of his drink, collecting his thoughts. “And I personally know firsthand how it feels to be where you are right now. And I mean it, even without the whole Alastor thing, though it is a big part of it.”

Pausing once more, then taking a big breath, “You know, I used to be an overlord once,” he reveals, capturing your attention even further. “Yeah, and it was nice to have that power. But when you’re dealing with souls while also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. And losing a few hands can be more than a little dangerous. So when you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep you afloat, even making deals yourself.”

Husk continued his story, delving into his past life before he was sent to the underworld. “But even before that shit show, I had another for me up there. Back when I was alive, I was a magician, a pretty big one at that. But at some point, I got into booze. It wasn’t a big issue at first, but it soon spiraled out of control after some other bad choices.

You see, a buddy of mine, another magician, had a gig at Caesars Palace. Being the good friend he was, he invited me along to party with him after his show. And party we did. It was one wild night—we drank, got plastered, enjoyed the company of some lovely ladies and fellas, and, most importantly, we played games.

That night marked my first taste of gambling, and it was exhilarating. I decided to play it safe and not bet too much, but it turned out Lady Luck was on my side. I won big, about two thousand dollars, while only betting twenty bucks.”

Husk paused, reflecting on those memories. “After that, I couldn’t help but come back the next day. Call it beginner's luck or whatever, but I was on a roll. In the span of two weeks, I had made enough money to last me two lifetimes.

But back then, it didn’t satisfy me, and it still didn’t when I first got down here either. Anyways, even after hitting such a big jackpot, I didn’t stop. I actually stopped magic altogether and fully transitioned to being a full-time gambler.

And for a while, it worked. But money wasn’t the only thing I got greedy with.

The amount of alcohol became too much for my body to take, and one day, I just dropped dead. A cardiac arrest was all it took to end me, while at the time it happened, I was convinced I was on top of the world.

Then I ended up down here. So, after spending quite some time just drowning myself in alcohol, only to make my alcoholism worse, I sort of got back on my feet. I became powerful and an overlord, but you already know how that went.

The both times I thought I was indestructible were also the both times when I was the reason behind why I got destroyed.”

You took hold of Husk's hand back, no longer content to simply let him hold yours.

“So now, every time I'm about to take a swig or play a game, while I may be confident in my skills, I can't shake the feeling that if I wanted to seek something else out, a different career path or way of life, I just couldn’t — that I've already burned those bridges for myself for all of eternity.

I feel trapped by my own actions and technically am too, but the worst part is that I don’t know if I’ll ever break free. But you, as you said, still have your soul. So maybe, even if it feels insurmountable right now, you can find the key to your cage and finally step out of it. And maybe, if you’re feeling generous, you can come by and try to find mine with me.”

Husk's way of speaking offered a different kind of comfort compared to Charlie's approach. Yet, it somehow brought you closure. It was honest and reliable, two things hard to find down here.

You gently squeeze his hand in a gesture of support before speaking up, "If I manage to find that key and finally step out of my cage, I promise you'll be the first person I’ll help find theirs, Husk." Your words are accompanied by a warm smile, which he reciprocates.

"Well, if you're the type to make empty promises, then I'm afraid to tell you but you're stuck with that one now, sweetheart. I'll hold you to it.” he teasingly responds, lightening the mood. "You wouldn't back out after giving a poor old soul like myself hope, now would you?"

"Never!" you assure him, the tears now long gone.

Following that evening, you and Husk grew closer, engaging in deeper conversations with each other than with the other residents.

It proved surprisingly effortless to open up to him once he shed his ‘old wise bartender’ persona. Despite the decades that separated you, both of you felt understood by the other.

Thus, when you began suggesting to Husk that you hang out together outside of the hotel, it didn't take much persuasion to get him on board. You believed it would be beneficial for him to step outside the confines of the hotel, considering it was in some part the physical manifestation entrapment.

Additionally, you planned to avoid places like casinos or bars to help both of you steer clear of your vices.

You envisioned a delightful day filled with laughter and happiness, far from anything that could potentially cause harm to either of you.

That's why you found yourselves in the fourth clothing store of the day. While you had picked up a few items from each previous store after some browsing, Husk had merely glanced around without finding anything to pique his interest.

As you perused the winter section, you stumbled upon the perfect ensemble: a charming white knitted skirt adorned with two small fluffy pompons, complemented by a matching top and a white bubble coat trimmed with fur.

Knowing you already had the perfect shoes to complete the look at home, you approached Husk with the outfit in hand.

"Soooo, what do you think of this one?" you inquired, prompting him to turn away from whatever had captured his attention to inspect your find.

"Hmm, well, it doesn't seem like it covers much. Are you sure you found it in the ‘winter section’? You'd probably freeze your ass off wearing that in the winter cold," he teased with a playful comment.

With an exaggerated sigh and a playful hip pop, you quip, "You just don’t understand, it's all about the 'aesthetic'," adding a fake tone of disdain that prompts both of you to burst into laughter at your absurdity.

Returning to a more serious tone, you inquire, "But really, aside from the fact that it's not exactly suitable for cold weather, what do you think of it?"

"Well, if we overlook the fact that you'd freeze solid walking outside in this, I have to admit the outfit is pretty nice. I think it would suit you," he replies earnestly before adding with a teasing voice, "and your aesthetic," eliciting more laughter from both of you.

You then notice something in his hands and ask, "Anywho, what do you have there?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just a little trinket that caught my eye. I probably won't buy it, though," he says, showing you the item—a watch with a roulette pattern on it. It was a bit pricey, but not overly extravagant. It looked cute and suited him well.

"It looks really nice. It would suit you very nicely," you tell him, and he smiles sheepishly in response.

"You think so? Thanks. Well, I'm going to put it back. You seem to be done with this store, so I shouldn't keep it in my hands. Wouldn't want to walk out of the store with it without paying," he says, trying to act nonchalant, but it's obvious he's a bit disappointed.

As you consider his situation, you realize that the hotel doesn't really pay Husk to work there, and all the money he used to make was based on gambling.

By staying away from it, he's basically broke now. With that realization, you make up your mind;

"Oh, wait. If you're not going to buy it, you won't mind if I do," you tell him, the gears turning in your head.

"Oh, yeah, no problem," he says as he passes the watch in its box to you.

You then proceed to the checkout and pay your dues. You ask for a separate bag for the watch, which earns you a slightly confused glance from Husk, but you don't mind. As you step out of the store, you suggest going out for ice cream to finish your outing, and he has no problem with it.

As you both enjoy your dessert, you pause to retrieve the bag containing the watch. "Here, this is for you," you tell him, offering the gift.

"Gosh, Y/N, I can't accept that. It's a very nice gift and all, but I can't just take it for nothing. I really appreciate it, really, but I don't deserve it," he rambles to you. Before he could delve further into why he possibly 'didn't deserve it,' you stop him.

"Listen, Husk, it's no problem. I have the money, so it's no big deal for me. Plus, you've become a dear friend of mine by now. Is it that bad for me to want my friends to have nice things?" you ask him.

"No, but I don't think such pricey things should be handed out to anybody just because 'you have the money,'" he states.

"But Husk, you're not just anybody, you're someone dear to me, someone I care about. When I saw the watch, I could only picture it on your wrist. I bought that watch for you and you only.

Also, before you mention returns, that store has a no-return policy.

And lastly, if you feel that bad about it, telling yourself you don’t deserve it, which is not true, you’re a wonderful man who deserves to have nice things— anyways, I interjected, my point is if you feel bad just take it as; this is a gift from me to you, for spending the day shopping around with me even though you weren’t interested in the stores we were going to,” you tell him kindly. As you see him still hesitating, you add one more thing, “Also, you can just not keep it and sell it if you really don’t want it that badly.” That breaks him away from the self-loathing he was internally building.

“Of course not, I’m not going to sell it. It’s a gift from you, a very nice gift at that, and I would never think of selling it,” he tells you, a bit protective of the gift now, which is what you wanted.

“So, looks like you’re keeping it after all.” you tell him, noticing a slight pout on his face as he realizes his words, but then he playfully rolls his eyes and now has a grin on his face. ‘Looks like he has finally accepted the gift.’

"Anyway, thanks for the watch. I’ll make sure to start wearing it as soon as we get to the hotel.” he tells you with that charming smile of his.

"I told you it was no problem." you reply, your face mirroring his.

"Also, if you're comfortable with buying me watches out of the blue, does that mean you would be into being my full-time sugar mommy—" he jokes, which you quickly shut down with a "Not even in your dreams." making both of you laugh once more.

Hangouts like this one continued, ranging from outings to different venues like theaters and restaurants to engaging in activities at the hotel.

For instance, Husk took it upon himself to teach you poker once you mentioned your lack of knowledge in the game.

It was a fun experience, filled with laughter. Turns out, you were quite good at it, although never as skilled as Husk, which occasionally led to moments of rage on your part. However, these instances always ended in laughter.

Currently, you were enjoying a drink with both Husk and Angel at the lounge’s bar;

“You’d think with all that money, he would be able to buy prescription glasses that looked like his current sunglasses,” you commented after Angel mentioned his boss, Valentino's poor eyesight.

“That's what I said! Like, if you're going to be a horrible piece of shit who literally built his empire off being one, you could at least get custom glasses so you could stop looking like an absolute moron when you read or count money. He quite literally spent half an hour counting three bills! How ridiculous is that?” Angel exclaimed, his voice fluctuating in pitch due to the alcohol.

In fact, all of you were a bit tipsy. Each of you displayed it differently—Angel was very excitable and giggly, you felt more sleepy, inclined to lie down, and Husk was more tactile, currently holding one of your hands while using the other to pet your head between sips of his drink.

That last part finally seemed to dawn on Angel, and he couldn’t help but point it out to both of you.

“So, did y’all fuck?” The effeminate fellow inquired.

“What?” You and Husk asked simultaneously, both of you pulling away from each other, visibly flustered.

“I mean, you’ve been getting cozy since we sat down, and I get that you two are ‘friends,’” Angel sarcastically emphasized the word 'friends' with air quotes, “but honestly, every time we get together and drink, you two are always holding each other. Sure, you're not openly cuddling and all, but I can’t remember the last time you weren’t holding hands when drinking. So, I think it’s reasonable for me to ask if you two are fucking” Angel explained his logic, leaving both you and Husk to face the current situation.

Despite Husk initiating the physical contact himself and you allowing it, as well as both of you holding hands, neither of you were aware of how intimate your actions appeared until Angel mentioned it.

It seems somewhat unbelievable, but it’s true.

Neither of you were consciously planning it; your bodies simply expressed your subconscious desire to be close to each other without either of you realizing it.

“Um, no, we didn’t,” you tell Angel, your voice quieter than before out of embarrassment.

“Yeah, we haven’t done anything like that,” Husk admits, matching your tone. Usually, even when talking to Angel, who was a dear friend to both of you, Husk would be more closed off about the sexual or romantic aspect of his afterlife. But the alcohol and the close proximity to you—his comfort person—seemed to have helped him be more open.

Taking a gulp of his drink and finishing it, Angel then speaks up once more. “Then do y’all wanna hook up?” he asks nonchalantly, to which both of you reply with a simultaneous “Angel!”

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," he says, accompanied by a laugh. The conversation is dropped, yet both you and Husk couldn't help but still glance at one another throughout the night, sometimes even making eye contact, which left both of you further flustered.

After Angel's comment, the next few days between you and Husk were awkward as both of you became more aware of each other's thoughts.

Neither of you outright rejected the idea of sexual attraction, and to be honest, you both had a feeling that the other felt similarly when it came to romance.

It was just awkward to actually express it, so for about a week or so, you avoided each other.

But soon the awkward tension began to dissipate. You were just more aware of each other's and your own actions, so if someone did something that crossed the lines of just being friendly, both of you would be aware of it being intentional.

For example, just like now as Husk is teaching you how to play pool;

There's nothing wrong or inappropriate about teaching your friend pool. Even when your friend corrects your form, it's still an innocent action to help you enjoy the game further as you learn the proper way to play.

However, Husk didn’t just show you how to score and watched what you did then correct your flawed form.

No, no, no, Mr. Husk over there didn’t even bother showing you beforehand how to score. He just directly positioned himself behind you, grabbed your hands, and guided you to grab the cue stick, all the while softly whispering in your ear as he directed your movements, explaining what he was doing and how it affects gameplay.

As to why Husk became so bold after a week of avoiding each other, you weren’t sure. And truth be told, he was just tired of burying his feelings deep down to avoid ruining your friendship, especially now that he knew you felt the same way he did.

That day, when you first opened up about your struggles, he felt a deep connection to you.

And when you bought him the watch, it struck a chord with him. Although he wasn’t usually one to focus on material possessions, the fact that you had spent so much on him so effortlessly meant a lot.

Especially when you insisted on him keeping it, expressing that you wanted him to have something nice.

In that moment, he felt deeply cared for, his heart racing as you assured him he deserved it and that he was dear to you.

So today, he decided to take matters into his own hands. If he had misinterpreted your signals and you rejected him, at least he would have tried, rather than spending eternity wondering ‘what if?’

"Then you do it like this," he says as he guides your hands through the motion, and you score. "You’re doing so good.” he murmurs softly near your ear. You'd like to think about the fact that praise wasn't necessary since he was literally guiding your movements, but all you could think about now is; how nice it feels to be so close to Husk. The warmth of his body against yours, how good his voice sounded so close to your ear—it's overwhelming.

Feeling like you might lose yourself if you don't act, you release the pool cue and turn to face him. Well, by facing him, I mean doing so while nearly touching faces due to how close you were to begin with. It stuns both of you for a moment, but you refuse to back down.

Leaning against the pool table for support, you muster the courage to address Husk. "Husk, um, you're really close right now..." you start, but instead of moving away, he questions, "Do you not like it?"

Feeling even more nervous, you realize lying won't work. You couldn't keep up a falsehood when it would be so obviously untruthful, and you didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "No, I like it," you admit.

"Is that all you like?" he probes further, his boldness surprising you. Before you can formulate a response, he adds, "Because I not only like being this close to you, but I also absolutely adore you." simultaneously softly caressing your cheek.

You're left breathless, muttering a quiet "fuck.." because what else could you say in this moment, besides confessing the to the man you've been attracted to since day one of meeting each other and felled in love with only a couple of months into knowing him.

But before Husk could misinterpret your use of a swear as you not being into him, you summoned all your courage and spoke out, "I also like you, Husk. Like, a lot. I found you hot since I first saw you, and soon after, I started falling for you, it’s an ‘in love-type’ of like you."

"Shit," he exclaimed, covering his mouth in disbelief. "I've also found you attractive since day one, and I think I've been in love with you since you gave me that watch," he continued, lifting the arm wearing it to showcase it. "More specifically, how you were acting towards me when you did it."

You paused for a moment, unsure of what to do next. "So, what do you want to do now?" you asked him.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Right now, all I want is to be as close as possible to you, which is far from my usual way of behaving; I'm usually more planned and collected, but when I'm with you now, I feel like I've lost my compass. Yet instead of being anxious, I feel safe and comfortable. Isn't that weird?" he mused.

"I'm not sure if it is, but if it were, would it be weirder if I felt the same way?" you asked him, to which he chuckled.

"No, I don't think it would be weirder," he replied, his hand still resting on your cheek, which you leaned into it, almost resting your head's weight completely on it.

You gazed longingly at each other for about a minute or two until you broke the silence. "So, do you want to make out?" you asked, with ‘that’ slight goofiness in your voice that Husk had come to love.

"Fuck yeah!" Husk exclaimed, mirroring your tone of voice.

His hands transitioned from holding your face and the cue stick to one of them softly gripping your hair from the back of your head —pulling you in— while the other rested on the small of your back for support.

Then your lips finally connected:

As your lips met, you felt an explosion of passion and chemistry that you had never experienced before. Your heart raced, and your pulse pounded in your ears as your mouths danced.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Husk, the gruff and often apathetic demon you befriended, was kissing you with so much intensity and desire. It was as if all his pent-up emotions and feelings were released in that single moment.

His grip on your hair tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him, and you could feel his heart beating just as fast as mine. You kissed hungrily like your (after)lives depended on it, your tongues entwining in a dance that made you shiver — especially the texture of your companion’s.

His tongue was in between one of a human and one of cat, it wasn’t unpleasant, quite the opposite actually. It did make you wonder how it would feel on other areas of your body. Also, something else to note was that he tasted like whiskey and smoke and honestly —you couldn't get enough.

Continuing on your movements, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting every inch of him. He groaned softly against your lips at that, breaking the kiss for a moment, and you could see the ‘need’ and ‘want’ in his eyes. They were filled with passion and affection, just like yours. He moved to kiss your jawline, trailing kisses down your neck, and you gasped softly, feeling his warm breath against your skin.

After a quick swipe at your collarbones, Husk's lips returned to yours, this time with even more fervor.

His kiss was deep and intense, as if he was trying to consume every part of you.

Your hands slid down his back, feeling his soft fur under your fingers. You could feel his muscles through it, and you loved the feeling. His hands shifted from the small of your back to my waist, pulling you closer to him, your bodies pressed tightly together.

The heat from your bodies mingled, creating an intoxicating warmth between you — a warmth you never wanted to ever quit.

As the intensity of the kiss lessened, your lips started to meet in smaller, delicate pecks. These little kisses were just as passionate as the previous ones, but they carried a different kind of emotion—endearment and love.

Each kiss was more intimate and loving than the last, sealing your connection in a way that words could never explain. Your hands still roamed each other, exploring, but with a gentleness to them.

Husk's hands moved from your waist to your sides, and you could feel his thumbs softly tracing circles on your waist. One of your hand still rested on his back, stroking softly, feeling every muscle, while the other was somewhat on his shoulder.

Finally, breaking the sweet pecks, you pulled away slightly, both panting and slightly out of breath. Your eyes locked, filled with a feelings so profound it was evident you had fallen hard for each other.

Husk gently grabbed the hand that was in his shoulder, pressing it to his lips with a soft kiss. His gaze met yours once again, and you could see the love and adoration shining in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful." Husk whispered, reaching out and gently cupping your face once more.

"Thanks, Husk. You're quite handsome yourself," you tell him with a smile. Then you add, "Anywho, does that mean we're dating now?"

"I'd like that, if you'll have me," he responds.

"There isn't anybody else I'd rather be with." you assure him.

After placing one last kiss on your lips, Husk says, "Same here."

It had been around two weeks since your mutual confession of feelings. Initially, you attempted to keep things low-key by staying in your separate rooms.

However, the amount of time spent together and the display of affection made it evident to everyone in the hotel that you were now a couple.

So, after just a week of attempting to maintain the facade, you both gave up and you moved into Husk's room.

Fast forward to today, the morning had been bustling with preparations for the arrival of Charlie's father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, after she received a call from him.

You pitched in with baking cookies and tidying up, alongside the other residents, to ensure the hotel looked presentable.

Unfortunately, given the hotel's initial state, it wasn't entirely surprising when the chandelier unexpectedly crashed from the ceiling.

What did caught you off guard was the sudden musical performance by the King of Hell, which Alastor swiftly joined, leading to an impromptu song battle between them. Though, the outcome remained undecided, as the duel was interrupted by Mimzy —apparently one of Alastor’s acquaintance— as she introduced herself.

Later down the road, after bothering your boyfriend at the bar, calling him ‘whiskers’, etc., Mimzy then engaged Angel, Pentious, and you in conversation about Alastor and her relationship with him.

But you found yourself more focused on your boyfriend slipping away than on her anecdotes. Consequently, instead of remaining there to listen to her babble, you decided to discreetly follow your boyfriend.

And now, you found yourself hiding around the corner, eavesdropping on the ongoing conversations;

"So once we have proof of redemption as possible, this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it," you overhear Charlie say, but the voices grow distant, making it hard to catch the rest.

What you do clearly hear is a "Hey boss" from Husk, followed by a questioning hum from Alastor. Then Husk adds, "Can I have a word?"

"What is it?" Alastor responds.

"You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs something, that bitch is trouble. And who knows what kind of demon she fucked with to come running into you this time." Husk points out.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker. Who in their right mind would cross me?" Alastor replies.

"I mean, you've been gone a while, and it's not like anybody knows why," Husk states.

"They don't need to know, and don't you worry your fuzzy head about it," Alastor dismisses.

"You may own my soul, but I ain’t your pet," Husk asserts.

Following a giggle, Alastor tells Husk, "But you are."

You're about to jump out to defend Husk, but after husk retorted with “Big talk for someone who is also on a leash.“, the atmosphere shifts, with lights flickering, leaving you petrified, especially after hearing a threatening "What did you say?"

You hear the sounds of chains and a thud, and you can only assume Alastor has dragged Husk to the floor.

"Nothing, I, um," your heart sinks at the panic in his voice, but it drops deeper once you hear Alastor's venomous words: "If you ever say that again, I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me."

Husk lets out a very quiet "Understood," and Alastor replies, "Lovely," then some subdued show tunes music starts playing, then Alastor added a "Good talk, my good man. Always nice to catch up."

After the radio demon's steps fade into silence, you finally step out of your hiding spot and rush to a trembling Husk on the floor. The first thing you do is give him a tight hug and whisper softly, "It’s going to be okay, baby. I’m here with you, Husk."

In that moment, you feel a plethora of emotions—concern and worry for Husk, fear because of Alastor, and guilt due to the fact you had stayed hidden while Husk faced Alastor alone, which makes you feel really shitty. But before guilt can consume you, you focus on getting Husk to somewhere secured, like your shared room. Once he's in a safe place, you can apologize.

With your help, Husk manages to stand up, but he's still too shaken up to walk alone. You guide him to the room, and once inside, you help him onto the bed, both of you holding each other tightly.

You softly stroked the back of his head while placing gentle kisses on his forehead. As you do, you can hear him slightly sniffle, holding back tears. It's obvious he's scared, and it's completely understandable.

You kiss his closed eyelids, and finally, the dam broke. He buries his face into your chest, and by the sounds and the wet feeling of your top, you can tell he's crying. He usually handles Alastor’s antics well, but having his soul threatened like that was just too much for him. You squeeze him tighter, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words.

“You’re going to be okay. I know it was terrifying, what you had to face. It would be for anyone. But it’s going to be okay,” you assure him, stroking his fur. Then you speak out once more, “I am so, so sorry, my love. I should have faced him with you, but I was too much of a coward to do so, so I just stayed hidden.” you apologize, and for the first time since burying himself in your chest, Husk peeks his head out. His face looks puffy from the tears, but what stands out is the empathetic look in his eyes.

“It’s… it’s okay, Y/N. Alastor—that guy, he’s terrifying. I don’t blame you for not jumping in when he got all crazy like that.” he reassures, but you can't rid yourself of the remorse.

“But I should have! That's my duty as your partner, to stand by you! What if he had snapped, and… and,” you say, strong but full of guilt. As you reach the last part, you start to stutter as thoughts rush into your head, and quieter you say, “and he had acted out on those threats.”

As Husk listened to you apologize, he couldn't help but pull you closer, his heart aching for the pain you knew you felt. His fingers traced gently along your soft skin, trying to soothe the distress within you. "Y/N, it's alright... I understand why you didn't intervene," He whispered, trying to make you feel better. His gaze fell upon your damp eyes, and he felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him. "Alastor has a way of intimidating even the strongest of us, and you're no exception."

"I've been dealing with him for years, and it's taken a toll on me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t expect you do anything in that moment, it would have potentially put you in harms way if you did. But know this, I appreciate that you came to comfort me when I needed it most." He could feel your heart pounding against his, and he held you tighter, hoping to ease your anxiety.

"I won’t get into that creepy smiling freak’s way, so he won’t do anything to me, I promise," Husk added, offering a small smile.

As you and him embraced, you felt your hearts beat in sync. Your love for each other was strong, and you knew that together, you could weather any storm.

"Mm, I guess you’re right, Husk," you said softly, your hand stroking his back in a comforting motion. "Despite my guilt, I know we’re both doing the best we can, and I'll always support you no matter what." Your words filled him with a sense of security, knowing that you were there for him through thick and thin.

"I'm glad we're in this together," he replied, his tone soft and grateful. "Even if I wasn't there for you when you needed me today, remember that I'll always have your back, no matter what Alastor throws your and our way." You tell him.

Slowly, you began to ease the tension between us by changing the subject. "Hey, do you remember that time we went to that haunted carnival in the outskirts of Hell for one of Charlie’s activity? And we got stuck on that horribly broken down Ferris wheel?" you chuckled, thinking back to the ridiculous adventure we embarked on. "We were both terrified, but we laughed our asses off, eventually.”

As he recalled the haunted carnival adventure, a soft smile formed on his face, and you couldn't help but join in his laughter. "Oh, that was a nightmare! The way we clung to each other while trying to escape that damned Ferris wheel, and we still ended up covered in cotton candy," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "I thought we'd never make it out alive."

"And don't forget about the ghostly fortune teller who told us we would be together forever," he added, giggling. "I mean, look at us now – ‘living’ proof that she was right!"

Your shared memories brought a warmth to your hearts, and tou continued to laugh about your past misadventures, pushing away the shadows of your current worries. Together, you found solace in the lightness of laughter and the strength of your bond. As you reminisced, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his heart overflowing with gratitude for this moment.

"You know, Y/N," he said, my voice warm and filled with love, "I wouldn't want to face any challenge with anyone else by my side.”

The warmth of his words washed over you, and he knew that he wanted to show you how much he appreciated your unwavering support. Leaning in, he whispered softly, "I'm glad you were here to comfort me. To show my appreciation, I want to give you something in return – a little treat for being there when I needed it most."

“Husk, baby, you know I didn’t do it for a reward.” You argue

“But I want to.” He tells you, with a look full of passion, his eyes drifted lower, taking in the sight of your delicate shorts, and he knew what he wanted to do next. And that made you weak, and you sorta blanked.

Gently, he untangled the fabric from your legs, revealing your soft, inviting skin. "Please, let me make you feel loved and appreciated too," he said, his voice low and full of desire.

As he next removed your underwear, he could feel your protests beginning to fade under the intensity of my gaze. With a determined smile, he leaned in close, pressing his lips to your skin. "I want to reward you, Y/N," he explained, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh. "Let me show you how much your support means to me."

Husk, typically recognized for his gruff exterior, revealed a tender side as he concentrated on satisfying you. His lips delicately trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, eliciting shivers down your spine.

Understanding the necessity of getting your mind off things if you wanted to get better —as dwelling only exacerbates the pain— he found solace in showering his beloved girlfriend with feelings of desire and appreciation. In his view, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, serving to uplift both of your spirits, a win-win per say;

Gently, folding your legs and pushing on your thighs to stabilize you, Husk then parted your folds with his free hand, his eyes locked on the sight before him. He took a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent, which only intensified his desire. With a purposeful hunger, he removed his hand and opted to substitute it with his tongue.

He leaned in and licked you, his tongue exploring every inch of your folds, the sensation was supreme, especially with that unusual tongue of his. As the wet muscle adventures further in your nether’s, its odd texture only becomes more pleasurable.

Especially when he would suck at your clit and let the tip of his tongue dance around it as he did. Every stroke, every caress; they spoke volumes of his appreciation for your unwavering support.

Your breath hitched as pleasure slowlybegin to build into something bigger. The intensity of Husk's actions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan in response.

"Husk, I..." you murmured, uncertain if you should continue, your voice trembling with a mix of lust, love, and ‘the obvious fact that he was making you feel too good to speak normally’. But before you could protest or anything like that, he silenced you with another expert stroke of his tongue, his eyes meeting yours with determination and love.

As Husk continued to pleasure you, he knew his actions were doing more than just giving you physical gratification; they were conveying his appreciation for your presence in his life—and that sentiment was mutually understood. And he loved that he could do it that way and you would both comprehend it.

Bringing back his hand into the mix , his skilled fingers—carefully used not to scratch you— and tongue worked in harmony, driving you towards a climax that mirrored the depth of his feelings. Your moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of your pleasure, and he couldn’t help but relish in ‘those lovely noises of yours’.

With a final flick of his tongue, Husk drew you to the edge, your body arching in response. "That's it, baby" he whispered, his voice low and seductive, yet still comforting. "Let go for me, let me see you shine."

In that moment, you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you, your body trembling and your last scream of pleasure echoing in the room. Husk watched as you reached your peak, his heart swelling with pride…

As you begin to come down from your high but not quite over it yet, Husk couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful state your real ease had caused. His heart continued to race as he regained steady breathing after momentarily being out of air while devouring you, he couldn’t help but want to experience it again. Softly, he lifted your legs and placed them on his shoulders, giving himself better access to your glistening hole and folds.

“Wait, husk I-“ you begin after realizing the change in position but you were promptly cut off as husk begin to lap at your essence directly from the source.

"You deserve this, my love," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. "I want to make you feel good, as much as you've made me feel supported."

With renewed vigor, Husk dove in once more, his tongue tracing familiar paths and exploring new ones. Your breath jiggered, and your back arched as he took you on another sensual journey that started in overstimulation. His grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, taking full control—you couldn’t run even if you want to.

He aims directly at your weak spot, and way he was sucking at your clit was just driving you absolutely mad. You gripped at his head, still unsure if you wanted to pull him away or bring him closer. He was precise and targeting but there was some hungry sloppiness to his technique.

As your second climax approached, Husk could feel your body tense, and he knew that he was about to witness something truly beautiful once more. Your cries of pleasure grew louder, and just as promised, the way your body convulsed and your face contorted was marvellous, what was not expected but still welcome was the fact that you had squirted, causing your arousal to coat his face and chest.

His eyes widened in awe, and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. "Damn, you're something else." he said, his voice filled with want but also a little teasing tone to it.

Even as you settled back onto the bed flat, Husk couldn't shake off the image of squirting. His eyes locked on your glistening skin, and he knew that he wanted to see it again. His hand travel to your face, thumb brushing lips sensually, a longing look in his eyes "One more, my love," he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I want to taste you again and see that beauty of yours unfold once more."

With a hunger that rivalled the one he had when bringing you to your first two climaxes, Husk dove in for the third time, his tongue seeking out your sensitive spots.

He craved the taste of your essence, the sound of your cries, and the sight of your strong release. You soon begin to trembled beneath him, quicker than previously but it was understandable, two orgasm in a row was about to make extra sensitive.

“Ah, fuck, Husk, it's too much!” You cried out in overstimulation.

“Shh, it's okay, baby, I know you can handle it,” he reassured, softly stroking the underside of your right thigh to offer comfort before getting his strong grip back on it.

As Husk continued to stimulate you, drawing you closer to nirvana, you found yourself liberated from all worries. In that moment, there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

As your third orgasm of the night peaked, you let out a final cry, your body convulsing with overwhelming euphoria. Once more, you squirted, coating Husk's face with your essence. This time, however, he caught most of your fluid in his moth and swallowed them, and the drops that didn’t make, he licked them off of you, his eyes close for an instances as he savoured your liquid arousal, then his eyes locked back on you.

"Oh, Husk," you breathed, your voice ragged with pleasure and emotion. "That was incredible."

He wiped the remaining droplets from his face with a satisfied grin and licked at it to make sure he gotten everything, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, his voice filled with love and satisfaction.

As you lay there, breathless and spent, Husk pulled you into his arms, his heart beating in his chest. Regaining back some of your sense, this scenery confused you a bit:

“What about you?” You inquired as he had yet to get release himself.

“Honestly the emotions and the time I spent between those sexy thighs of yours got me to tired to want anything more than to cuddle you right now.” he admired with a tired smile, which made giggle.

Your bodies still entwined, Husk leaned in and pressed his lips gently against yours. The kiss was soft, filled with love and appreciation, and it left you both feeling even more connected than before. Right here and there, you knew that despite the challenges you faced further down the road, you were in this together.

Slowly, Husk wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and you felt safe and loved in his arms. "Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "The cuddling, reassuring words, and this; they really help me calm down and feel better. I know I can rely on you when you do these things, and I strongly hope you can on me."

You nestled your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Of course I do, and don’t forget—I'll always be here for you, Husk," you promised, your voice filled with reassurance. "No matter what comes our way, I'll have your back, just like you do for me."

As the two cuddled and basking in the afterglow of your shared euphoria, you knew that your bond had grown stronger. Nothing could bother the two of you right now—except perhaps the fact that you would have to get up to bathe and change the sheets soon, but that was a problem for the ‘30 minutes to one hour future yous.’

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braveclementine · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 2

Warnings: None. (Will however be a 18+ reader book)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

The walk from your apartment building to the Avengers HQ was a good thirty minute walk. On a good day, it would've been pleasant, the kind of walk you might've made daily if you'd had a dog. However, wearing the sweatshirt again with the nerves made it feel like you had been walking for hours.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stood at the gate with the intercom thing-a-ma-bobber before pressing it with a shaky finger.

You weren't entirely sure why you were so nervous. There was no crime for bumping into people. . . but when it was a King, much less the King of Wakanda, well perhaps it was good sense to be nervous.

"How may I help you?" A bored, female voice said on the other side.

"Hi, I was hoping to talk to the King of Wakanda." Your voice, at least, didn't sound shaky.

The voice on the other side snorted, "Yeah, sure."

"I'm the girl that bumped into him earlier." You said, embarrassed. "I just wanted to er, apologize to him was all."

There was a bit of silence before the female voice said, "I'll let him know. Have a fantastic day."

You blinked. Well, at least he would know that I had attempted to apologize. Some of the nerves dissipated as you turned to walk back to the apartment.

Having only walked a few feet though, you heard a voice call behind you, "Excuse me!"

You turned slowly and then flushed dark when you saw the King standing there.

He was wearing very standard clothing. A black button up shirt with black slacks and black dress shoes.

"Aren't you hot?" You blurted out. The blush went darker. "I mean, hot in your clothing. I mean cause it's summer. You know what, just completely ignore what I just asked."

The King actually smiled, his white teeth almost blinding against his darker skin. "You forget I am used to African climate. Much hotter than this."

Oh. His accent. Oh my God.

You swallowed again and then you said, "I just wanted to apologize. I forgot about work and I was rushing to get to work and I bumped into you and I just spat out an apology and I had no idea that you were the King of Wakanda-"

"Breathe." He said with a light chuckle that almost made you die inside. "It's quite alright. I understand."

Every nerve dissipated. You nodded awkwardly.

"I never got your name." He said, tilting his head.

"Oh, I'm Y/N." You said quickly, not sure if you should hold your hand out. You saw his left hand twitch slightly and he held out his hand, "T'Challa."

"Ouch." You yelped before shaking his hand. You'd felt a sharp pain in your left wrist. It was like backing into a table corner. It didn't really hurt, but you felt like saying 'ouch' anyways.

You blushed, "Sorry, I had a pain."

"I thought you might." He said with a small smile.

You stared at him blankly. He rolled up his sleeve which had a singular colour there. You noticed that it was [Periwinkle/Turquoise/Jade] line. You barely even realized that it was the same colour as the one on your right wrist- a.k.a your favorite colour.

He stepped closer, showing you the name that had been branded into his skin: Y/N.

Of course. After you met your soulmate their name was matched with their colour. You just hadn't realized that it hurt.

Then you realized something.

Your soulmate was the freaking King of Wakanda.

You weren't entirely sure what the correct reaction to the information was. Faint? Squeal? Run away screaming?

Somehow, you just stayed frozen, staring at your name on his wrist.

"Are you alright. . . Y/N?" T'Challa asked.

You licked your lips, trying to form a coherent response. "I- but you're a King."

T'Challa chuckled again, "That I am. Which will make you my Queen."

You blushed again and then said awkwardly, "I'm afraid that you're going to have to um, share me with quite a few people." As you spoke, you pulled up your sleeve to show the eleven brands. The eighth line of purple and black now had the name T'Challa imprinted there.

T'Challa took in the ten other lines and chuckled, "So I will. I recognize your name now, from the record book. Of course, only your baby picture is in there."

"That's a good thing." You muttered.

"Follow me. I'd like to introduce you to my sister Shuri." T'Challa said with a smile.

You nodded, slightly surprised as he put his elbow out. You hooked your hand around his elbow like you had done this before, and let him lead you into the compound.

"Did the attendant behind the intercom let you know I was out here?" You asked curiously.

"Sharon? No. I was walking along the grounds. Tony has a good selection of botany here. I thought I recognized your figure and I was curious about what you were doing here so I came to inquire." He said with a smile.

We entered the Avengers compound and you took a look around. There were two women there, both dark skinned and bald. One, the taller of the two, narrowed her eyes at you. "What is-"

"This is my soulmate, Y/N Y/L/N." T'Challa introduced me. "Y/N, this is Okoye, my personal guard and friend."

There was a slightly shorter girl there with a head of hair who bounced up onto her feet, rushing to hug me. Slightly taken aback, it took me a moment to hug her back.

"Hi! I'm Shuri. You're beautiful." She said, pulling back.

"Y-You're stunning." You stuttered.

"Whose this?" A new voice, male, asked. You looked over to see the Tony Stark strolling along the floor like he owned- oh wait.

"Mr. Stark." T'Challa said genuinely.

"I'm Y/N." You introduced, sticking your hand out on a whim. No idea where you got the courage to do so, even more surprised when Tony actually shook your hand.

"Tony Stark naturally." He said easily but you felt another prick on your left arm. You fought the urge to look down. He was wearing long sleeves as well, so you had no idea if he had felt the prick. Probably, right?

You both stared at each other as you both lowered your hands. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it was an after effect of T'Challa's bond.

Tony's eyes shifted to T'Challa as he swiped his glasses off, putting them in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. "Everyone's upstairs. We're just waiting for Thor and Loki."

You blushed. There must be some sort of meeting. You certainly didn't want to intrude.

"How about we bring Y/N along here to introduce her to the rest of the crew?" Tony asked.

"Y/N?" T'Challa asked.

You were startled, "Oh, but I couldn't possibly!"

"Nonsense." Tony said, putting an arm over your shoulder. "You're clearly my soulmate, unless you didn't feel a prick in your left arm. It's only fair to introduce you to the group."

"Oh?" T'Challa asked in surprise, "You as well?"

Tony turned to look at him, "Pardon?"

You quickly rolled your sleeve up. Indeed, Tony was there on the red and gold line. Tony looked at the several lines and then whistled, "Well, aren't you a hot commodity? Definitely need to introduce you now, pretty sure that's Capsicle's line." He said, pointing to the red, white, and blue line.

Was he right? Was it really Captain America's line? How many of your soulmates were going to be the Avengers?

"Shall we?" Tony asked, quirking a brow.

Well, at least they were all hot, right?

T'Challa gave you his elbow again which you took, while Tony was slightly more possessive, taking your hand into his.

"FRIDAY, floor 47." Tony announced as we stepped into the elevator.

"Yes Mr. Stark. Miss Y/L/N doesn't have clearance however." An automated, slightly Irish sounding female voice said from. . .the speakers? The air? It kind've sounded like it was all around us.

"Override it. Miss Y/L/N can go wherever she pleases in the building, including the lab."

"You don't let anyone in the lab, not even Stephen." T'Challa said as the elevator started to move with a 'yes sir'.

"Well Stephen would break everything, but I think my soulmate right here will be quite good. Small hands." Tony said, squeezing your hand a little.

You slightly blushed. This was starting to be a bit overwhelming for you, but neither of them seemed fazed at all.

"H-How are you taking this so. . . easily?" You questioned.

"We're used to weird sweetheart." Tony dropped. "You've got eleven soulmates and we just happen to be them. At least there's no time travel or aliens involved." He paused and then questioned, "You're not an alien are you?"

"No." You said quickly. "I'm. . . average except the eleven soulmates."

"I wouldn't say average." Tony said with a nonchalant shrug, "You're quite stunning."

You blushed again.

"I was going to say gorgeous." T'Challa said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers over your spine. Exactly how long would they take to marry you? Because there was a hell of a lot of sexual tension in this extremely small box.

The bell dinged, the doors sliding open. Tony led us down the hallway at this point, pulling open one of the double doors and the three of us stepped through.

Several famous faces stared back at us and you shrank slightly into T'Challa's side.

"Whose this?" The blond man you knew was Steve Rogers asked Tony.

"Well, go on sweetheart, introduce yourself." Tony said with a smirk. You wondered just how many of the people in the room Tony suspected were your soulmates.

"Hi. I'm Y/N." You said quietly.

Five of them jerked their left arms slightly.

Steve, James Barnes, and one of the other African American men exchanged looks. You weren't entirely sure if that was Sam or James Rhodey.

Steve was the first to move, holding out his hand, "I'm Steve Rogers."

You shook it, ignoring the sting in your left arm. You'd left your jacket off, showing the eleven marks. Steve's name slowly filling in on the red, white, and blue one. Tony smirked.

"Bucky." He said. His metal arm was black and gold, but he held out his flesh hand which you shook quickly.

"Sam." The man that you hadn't been quite sure you were said next. Another sting.

"And I'm James." Another African American man stepped forward to shake your hand. "But my friends called me Rhodey."

"I'm Clint." The famous archer said, shaking your hand. Another sting.

"Natasha." The red head assassin said, holding hands with Bruce Banner.

"Bruce." He said with nod of his head.

"I'm Peter. Peter Parker." The youngest one of them said. I almost waited, cringing, for another stab of pain, but nothing happened.

"I'm Wanda, this is Vision." Another red head, slightly brighter said. The robot that was standing behind her had his arm wrapped around her waist. He settled down into a more human appearance.

"Hey I'm Scott, also known as Antman." One of the last guys with a grin said.

"Hope." The female next to him rolled her eyes.

"And I'm Maria Hill." The last person in the room said.

"Nice to meet all of you." I said quietly.

"How many lines do you have left?" Tony enquired.

"Four." I said. I showed him my arm.

"Hmm, well high probability that the gold and green is Loki. He doesn't wear anything else." Tony speculated.

"Loki?" Steve asked with slight distaste and a little bit of a frown.

"I already know the green and blue is Stephen Strange because it matches mine." Tony said, not sounding at all displeased about sharing his soulmate with You. "But the black and the gold, I have no idea."

Suddenly, the doors opened up behind us again. You pressed back into T'Challa's front as a rather intimidating man with an eyepatch entered the room. He greeted Maria Hill softly first, his one eye roving to land on You.

"And who are you?"

"Y/N Y/L/N sir." You said quickly.

There was a slight flicker as his eye moved between Maria and yourself before moving forward to shake your hand, "Nick Fury."

Another stab of pain as you shook his hand firmly. His eye flickered down to your arm, seeing his name on his arm and the multitude of colours there. "Well, aren't you special?"

Was that an insult?

He let go of your hand, motioning to Maria Hill, "This is my other soulmate."

I nodded but didn't have to say anything as Sam asked, "You and Fury? Did not see that one happening."

"Should've placed bets." Clint and Scott said at the same time.

"Guess it makes sense pure black would be Fury." Tony said nonchalantly.

Suddenly, there was a large crash of lightning and thunder outside.

"Damn, he still did it on the lawn." Tony muttered.

You were still rather stressed, feeling completely out of place at the meeting, despite nearly half of the occupants being soulmates. You weren't entirely sure if you were cursed or blessed at this point.

"Point Break." Tony barked to the tall, short brown-haired man that entered, "What have I told you about creating bifrost crop circles on my lawn?"

"My apologies tin man." Thor said in a loud, booming voice, flashing me a huge smile, "I got so excited when Heimdall revealed that our soulmate was here, I temporarily forgot."

My eyes flickered to the just as tall, polar opposite behind Thor. Loki, god of Mischief. Eyes blue as the ocean, wavy black hair neatly falling on his shoulders. He was wearing a black suit without a hint of the gold and green that showed in his colour band.

"Our?" Steve questioned behind me.

"Loki and mine!" Thor said, his voice still loud as he strode forward, "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance Princess, I am Thor God of Thunder."

He kissed your forehead and both cheeks, leaving you red as a tomato before you managed to say, "Y-Yes pleasure to m-meet you. I'm Y/N."

Loki stepped forward with more eloquence and grace, taking your hand to kiss the back of your knuckles, blue eyes never leaving your E/C ones before he said in a quiet voice that sounded a whisper to his brother, "I am Loki, my Queen."

It was so overwhelming as he stepped back and you just stood there. You had only one soulmate left to meet.

Stephen Strange. Dr. Strange.

You didn't know much about him, other than he lived in New York and had helped save the world. Oh and that he had discovered something called the multiverse. But yeah, other than that, you knew nothing about him. You weren't even entirely sure you'd be able to pick him out on the street unlike the others. Unless, of course, he was wearing his infamous robes.

As if called by your thoughts, an orange portal opened up behind Tony, a tall, extremely handsome man stepping out followed by a slightly shorter Asian man, perhaps of Chinese ethnicity, though you weren't certain. Perhaps Tibet?

The man You were sure was Stephen Strange placed a rather sweet kiss on the top of Tony's head before introducing himself to You. The familiar sting took place and You told him your name.

"Well, with introductions out of the way, doesn't change the fact you don't really have clearance for the following conversation. Neither do you Mr. Parker. So-"

"But sir." Peter complained.

"Yeah, right, of course. I should go home anyways." You said quickly. "My sister is probably wondering where I am."

"Parker, please accompany her home." Fury said with no room for arguing.

Peter followed You from the room and once you were in the elevator, you nearly collapsed. You hadn't realized just how tight and uncomfortable you had been until now.

"You alright?" Peter asked with obvious concern.

"Just stressed. That was stressful. I've gone so long without a single soulmate and suddenly they're all dropped on me. And not only do I meet all of them in one day in less than an hour, but they're Gods and Super soldiers and magicians and billionaires and spies! I mean, how is this possible?" I asked.

"It makes sense." Peter said simply. "They're all like family and they're all missing a piece of themselves. You're that."

"I thought some of them already had their soulmates." You questioned.

"Sure. Mr. Fury has Agent Hill and Agent Hill has Mr. Fury and Agent Coulson. But Mr. Fury's also had a band for the past [18-30] years, saying he had another soulmate. Mr. Stark and Mr. Strange as well. Not to mention Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, and Sam, though they're all together, they've had a band missing. And the others just haven't had one period."

You mulled that over for a moment. "It's so. . . interesting the way it works."

"Oh yeah, You should hear Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner talk about soulmate bonds. Real sciency stuff. But yeah, I got two soulmates. One's name is MJ and the other's name is Ned. I think the only one out of us all that doesn't have a soulmate is Pietro."

"Pietro. Who is that?" I questioned.

"Oh, he's Wanda's twin brother." Peter answered as we started our walk out of the Avengers compound. "He's got three bands, but he's never met any of his soulmates. But he spends a lot of time in Sokovia instead of with us."

"I thought. . . I thought he died?" You asked carefully, not wanting to bring up an insensitive topic.

"When Dr. Banner snapped everyone back, he brought back Avenger members too. That's how Natasha, Coulson, and Pietro came back. And then Captain Marvel snapped to killed Thanos and that was that."

"Interesting." Was all you could muster to say.

"Say, I could swing us to your apartment." Peter said excitedly. "We'd get there so much faster."

"Um, sure?"

What could go wrong?

*A fEw MoMeNtS lAtEr*

I'm going to die. I'm literally going to die.

You had shut off your voice so you didn't scream as you clutched tightly around Peter's neck as he swung through the city.

Sure, it hadn't been to bad when he'd first started going, but now that you were high about these skyscrapers and there wasn't even a seatbelt- well you were starting to feel a little more anxious.

Finally, Peter landed in front of your apartment building. There weren't to many people around. "See you around Y/N." He said, waving slightly before taking back into the air.

You hurried into the apartment and then made your way upstairs, opening the apartment door and stepping inside.

You sunk down with your back to the door, wondering what your reaction was going to be. Cry? Or laugh?

The apartment was silent as you closed your eyes, thinking of the head spinning day you'd had.

"Where the hell have you been?"

You screamed.

⬅️➡️

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tired-of-being-nice · 8 months ago

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the sound

*emerges from finals covered in blood* IM ALIVE *throws this down* *leaves*

anyway, enjoy a little showing of how coren is kept in line!

cws: brainwashing/conditioning, sensory overload (sort of), willing brainwashing

Coren's head isn't working right. It feels all floaty, not quite attached to its body. By the time it got back to where it was supposed to be it was already late in the day and it was too exhausted to give a proper explanation of why it was so late and what it was doing last night. It just begged forgiveness as much as it could when it couldn't think in coherent sentences, much less speak, and now it's sitting on a chair putting all its strength into staying upright and waiting patiently to be told what its punishment is.

It hopes it's the noise. It really, really hopes that. Not just because the alternative is being alone and it can't bear being alone, but because it's so tired and it can't think straight and the noise will help with that, it always does. It'll fix Coren. Make them able to do their job again. Coren wants to be able to do a good job. They want to so badly.

Its head hurts so terribly, which is good, because if it didn't it thinks it would probably slide right off the chair and collapse onto the ground, but it hurts, it hurts so much, the lights are too bright in here and their thoughts are chasing each other in circles and their ears are starting to ring–

"–ren? Coren?"

Coren blinks and squints at the blurry figure in front of them until it resolves into the shape of Erica, their...manager, or handler, or whatever it is you want to call her.

"Hi, Erica," they mumble. "I don't feel good."

"I can tell that," Erica says with a raised eyebrow, and Coren shrinks back in shame. "What are you holding?"

Coren turns their head to stare at the spatula clutched in their hand. "I, um...dunno."

Erica sighs. "Well, I don't have time to pry it away now. Come on. We've decided you need some more time with the Sound."

Coren perks up immediately and follows behind Erica obediently, mustering their protesting body through the few steps with the promise of soon, soon, soon.

The noise room is empty and white and clean, and Erica shoves Coren inside in a way they'd protest usually but today are grateful for.

The door shuts behind them, and there's a slight click from the speakers, and then the Sound comes on.

It's like white noise but more, resounding, near-deafening, filling the room and your mind until you can't hear yourself think, let alone scream.

(They did use to scream, didn't they? They almost remember that, every time they come in here. But it never sticks— the sound takes it away, and besides, they don't want to remember something so unpleasant.)

Coren sighs, slumping bonelessly to the floor, a dazed smile spreading across their face. The noise drowns out any thoughts, rises and falls in waves, crashing against Coren's brain and gently smoothing away all the pesky contradictory thoughts that had been nagging at them. The ache of starvation fades from their limbs, and the haze of sleepiness melts from their mind. Everything is fine. Everything is alright.

(but milo–) shhhh (but i have to–) shhhhhh (i'm still hungry–) shhhh (i can't rememb–) shhhhhhhh

This is so nice. Coren doesn't need to worry now. What was there to worry about, anyway? They're safe. The Company has them. The Company loves them.

Their fingers loosen, and the spatula drops from their hand, forgotten.

that's right! it was an EMOTIONALLY SIGNIFICANT SPATULA this whole time! haha!

taglist: @whumpsoda @snakebites-and-ink

#october's whump #oc: coren #whump #brainwashing #conditioned whumpee #Emotionally Significant Spatula #story: tadikm

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cosmokyrin · 8 months ago

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Potential - Chevreuse/Chiori - Genshin Impact

Summary: When the captain and the seamstress have a passing talk about marriage. Ship: Chevreuse/Chiori (Genshin Impact) Rating: Teen and Up Length: 1,171 words Notes: This drabble came to me out of nowhere! It really just started with Chevreuse's line thinking she was disturbing Chiori's mind with her presence, and my introvert ass latched to that relatable thought lmao I first shared this over the Cheviori server I created, and decided, after adding and editing, to share this out as well. I hope you enjoyed them being gay as much as I did LMAO Cheviori real!!!! Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55668778

Full fic also available here! Read below:

“Chevreuse, we’ve talked about this. I don’t mind you being here at all.”

"I know, I know. I just wanted you to know that you don't need to talk with me while I’m here. But if my presence in the room is disturbing your thoughts, you can always tell me to leave. No hard feelings," Chevreuse told Chiori from across the room. It was late at night in the Chioriya Boutique, but the famous — or infamous — seamstress continued to be surrounded by colorful spools of thread delicately spun by her skilled hands. There was a deadline to be met in the next few days, and if Chiori wanted to keep her schedule in line, she had to put in a few extra hours. She enjoyed this, anyway. But a regular guest, the Captain of the Special Patrol — her current significant other, no less — seemed to think her conspicuous presence must be jarring for an introspective and artistic, brooding character like hers. In fact, it was true, Chiori did not deny, because any human presence warranted a portion of one’s attention, no matter how familiar they were.

But Chevreuse’s presence was different. It was comfortable, serene, still. Like ember in the form of water. Like the fire of the hearth, bright and encompassing yet humble and healing. Chiori was sensitive of her personal space, yet Chevreuse fit in like she was already a piece of her.

"You don't need to. I guess this is also good practice when we get married."

"Yeah, I guess..." Chevreuse then almost dropped her book, and her jaw, upon realizing something. "What did you say?"

Chiori shrugged. "When we get married, I'll be living with you often, so that means there will be times that I'm working and it's inevitable you're within the same space I am, and I have to..." Chiori looked up to Chevreuse who dumbfoundedly stared and blushed in front of her. "Just stating facts. I mean..." She softly chuckled, seemingly with a hint of nervousness. "This is not a proposal, Chevreuse. It's speculation. We might not have dated for so long but we are still dating, nonetheless. Marriage might become an option for our relationship someday."

Chevreuse’s mouth opened and closed like that of a fish, failing to create any coherence. She cleared her throat and gazed to the ground, redder than ever. "I-I mean you're right. Nothing wrong with a marriage talk once in a while."

Chiori laughed softly, but the way it reached Chevreuse, it seemed she was being egged onto something else. It was oddly inviting, the way the seamstress looked at her with a sly smile as a needle was lodged in between her teeth — a dangerous habit — much like Chiori herself. "Do you see me as a potential wife in the future, Captain?"

"I, um..." Chevreuse tried to focus on her book, attempting to allay her sudden discomfiture coupled with a fear of saying the wrong thing. She had taken off her gaze from Chiori, quickly falling quiet and reclusive. The seamstress immediately saw through it. She dropped her smirk and looked on with concern.

"You don't have to answer that one if it doesn't make you comfortable."

Chevreuse shot up a glance to Chiori, shock written in her face. She then sighed upon realizing how worked up she had become. "No, I was... I just don't want to say anything wrong."

Chiori shook her head and chuckled. "Perhaps it wasn't really a simple thing to ask. But you don't have to answer me just to please me. Or you can say whatever you want, no hard feelings. And just so you know, whatever your answer, the future always changes—"

"I want to marry you someday," Chevreuse blurted out.

Silence instantly filled up the space they occupied. The Boutique, being a peaceful and unassuming background, suddenly seemed to wake with eyes as wide as Tamoto’s and turned to the young lovers. A hot, hot blush spread to the Garde captain’s face that the thought of biting her tongue off suddenly didn’t seem stupendously irrational nor torturous. What did she just say? She wanted to slap the book on her face, the most useless thing she could try to do to hide her unfathomable embarrassment. She instead covered her mouth and squirmed uncomfortably like a worm dying in her own sweat. She hated her uniform at the moment.

From her peripheral view, it seemed that Chiori wore a serious face. Did she say something wrong? Was this, by the gods, the wrong answer? More blood rushed to her face now. She took another deep breath. She had to face this head on. This was the most important thing she learned as a soldier. So Chevreuse took another swig of air and courage, then raised her gaze to her lady.

Chiori was holding in her laughter.

Very hard.

"It was…” Chiori said, nearly choking on her own stifled laughter. “It was just a 'yes or no' question."

Crap. Chevreuse completely turned tomato when she realized how corny she sounded, especially now that Chiori's laughter broke out. Her partner was cackling so hard she shut her eyes and had tears pooling in the sides. Captain Chevreuse wanted to go back to being a worm to die in her own sweat. "I'm sorry, okay..."

Chiori let herself giggle a bit more, head slightly bent backwards. She wiped her tears of laughter away and faced Chevreuse with an incredible softness and a beautiful smile that the captain burned in her mind. "What are you sorry for? You didn't say anything wrong." Then her gaze almost instantly shifted in intensity that the captain froze with the subtle bait and switch. But Chiori was… gentle? Happy? In love, perhaps? Chevreuse gulped at the thought.

"Okay. To be fair to you, I see you as my future wife, too, Chevreuse. Or husband. Whatever you prefer."

"So it's mutual, huh?" Chevreuse said, breaking into a grin of relief before her brain and shame could catch up. She blushed all over her face again, but at least she could properly gaze eye to eye with her significant other this time. They laughed together, shaking their heads from the things they just found about each other. Like Chiori said, even their feelings, as strong as their bond may have been now, could change somewhere down the line. Yet, Chevreuse couldn't help the excitement that swelled in her heart upon knowing that she wasn't the only one who saw such a future for the both of them.

Chiori only answered with a wide smile before she resumed her sewing work. Others would have waited, but Chevreuse didn't need the words. If there was anything she liked about their relationship, it was the miraculous ease at which they talked without saying anything. Chevreuse stood up from the sofa and walked across the room towards Chiori.

"Can I disturb you tonight just this one time?" she asked.

Chiori raised a curious brow and shrugged. Chevreuse leaned down and gave her a kiss.

#genshin impact #chevreuse #chiori #cheviori #chevori #fanfiction #fanfic #kyrin's writings

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enigma-the-mysterious · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! New here. And I have some stuff to ask from you if that's ok (you seemed the most qualified)

If I'm not wrong, you are a Hindu but a Dalit. What are your thoughts on revision of scriptures? Is it of any help? If not what can be done by us (I'm a Hindu and a Brahmin) to make Hinduism less hostile to Dalits? Cos trust me I have read the scripts and um they are problematic when it comes to this and I find that I can't lie to myself anymore without hindering my journey in faith.

I would love your inputs and am always open to discuss stuff.

All my love 💕

Eh, I wouldn't exactly call myself the "most qualified", I am sure there are other people who have studied these things more extensively and are in a better position to answer these. I am just some gal.

What I can do, is talk about my personal experiences. Like you said, I am a Hindu. I am a Dalit. My relationship with my religion is complex. My faith gave me hope and light when I was at the lowest in my life and it still does. My faith and my beliefs have never really been contingent on any scriptures. Truth be told, I have hardly read any of them. I know they are problematic and the so-called "rules" or "dharma" everyone must abide by are definitely a relic from a bygone era. It doesn't matter to me what the scriptures say, it has never mattered to me. My relationship to my God is highly personal and no text in the world, no so-called "dharma-adhikari" can dictate it.

Does that mean it has always been roses and peaches in my relationship to my religion? Nope. The Uttar Ramayan, for instance, makes me highly uncomfortable as both a woman and a Dalit. I know there are debates about it not being a part of the original Ramayan but well.... It makes me so uncomfortable that, I personally cannot respect Ram as a God anymore. A flawed ruler? Maybe? A God? Nope

So, like I said, I personally don't care much about the scriptures. 'Cause at the end of the day, they are just that- texts on papers.

As to whether I think if revision of texts will help with the currently prevailing discrimination against Dalits, the short answer is no. Long answer? I have spoken about it in more detail (and with a lot more anger and frustration, I guess) here. Advocate for their basic human rights instead. Talk about how practising religious "customs" shouldn't mean that you get to insult someone's basic dignity. Work for changing the present and the future, right now, instead of trying to change the past.

Anyway, I don't think that was very coherent. But I hope I was able to answer some of your questions at least. Thank you for dropping by my askbox <3

EDIT TO ADD: Also, as to make Hinduism less hostile for Dalits, just let them exist in peace? Many Dalits are Hindu, many aren't (you can guess why). When Hindu Dalits want to enter temples and pray to their Gods, just let them? Don't act like a Dalit entering a temple is the end of the world. Don't gatekeep their faith. Just allow them to exist in public places (including temples) in peace

#hindublr #hindu #hinduism #casteism #caste violence #india #original post #not incorrect quotes #desi tumblr #desiblr #desi #desi tag #desi stuff #dalit rights #whatrasudeep #ask #ask me anything #ask reply

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dnfao3tags · 2 years ago

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Monthly Fic Roundup - May 2023

ok look man this is the third fucking time i've had to redo this entire post i dont give a shit anymore i hate tumblr i hope it and i die a very painful death does anybody have any idea how hard it is to edit these things with the shittiest site and shittiest laptop in the world

anyways. nobody reminded me i forgot about mays roundup. betrayal. leave all the writers here a warm kudos and comment :]

— find me here by womanhunt (mat. | comp. | 9k)

Dream and George through various phone calls across time.

— All paths lead to you by Simplysmitten (teen | comp. | 28k)

When George is stressed, he has nightmares, and when George has nightmares, he sleepwalks. In a subconscious search for relief, George sleepwalks to the safest place he can find- Dream's room. Dream finds out more than he bargained for when trying to decode George's nonsensical sleep-talking, but he struggles to make conscious-George as comforted by his presence as unconscious-George.

— i want you, and that’s the way it is by pondsofkoi (gen | comp. | 4k)

Sometimes George combs his hair with enough force Dream thinks he’s trying to yank his scalp out. “Dude.”

— a wish, a child by heartinhands (teen | comp. | 3k)

George wants a child. If he and Dream wish hard enough, there's a chance.

— every sunset by indigoh (mat. | comp. | 10k)

when George goes to sleep, it’s June 2020. When he wakes up, it’s 8 years into the future.

Part 2 of the past, the future, and everything in between

— what a childish thing by tippysleeps (teen | comp. | 7k)

“What year is it,” George repeats. “Um,” Dream frowns. “It’s 2020?” George just stares at him. “It’s 2027,” he says, finally. “2027.”

Part 1 of not afraid of living on a faultline

— Some Other Beginning's End by Scoops (consciousness_streaming) (expl. | comp. | 5k)

George's family takes a holiday to Orlando to visit Disney. Just before George is set to meet Dream, disaster strikes in the form of a werewolf pack taking over Florida, and maybe more of America. While George struggles to survive, scavenging for food and materials for the few survivors, and at the end of his rope--a miracle happens. He might get to meet Dream after all.

— falling in love in the cruelest way by twostorms (teen | comp. | 7k)

Dream can't remember a time where he wasn't at least a little obsessed with George.

— Maw by shrewtz (expl. | comp. | 1k)

To combine their two selves in one way or another, to blur the line between hunger and arousal, to consume a piece of his lover— would it not be the most romantic gesture possible?

— when you kiss my lips, you'll make it stick by demonstars (mat. | comp. | 6k)

Dream's hero's (MUA) journey.

— Can you make it feel like home (if I tell you you're mine?) by JanetBaby99 (expl. | comp. | 19k)

Dream and George go on a road trip together and the tension between them becomes too much. Eventually, it snaps, and they can’t keep their hands to themselves any longer.

— unbreakable heaven by furculaed (teen | comp. | 5k)

“I didn’t mean for it to get so messy,” she breathes, “I thought we could, I don’t know, just do whatever and we’d be okay. I can live with just this, I promise. I can do with nothing, even. I don’t know. Just don’t ask me to stop.” Dream’s breath stops right at her chest. “Stop what, George?” “You know,” she whispers. George looks at Dream, beautiful and breaking at the seams. “Don’t make me say it, Dream. You know,” George begs.

— fall into me by havocrat (teen | comp. | 7k)

Handing the tube back, Georgina smacks her lips together, and they make a little pop sound. It’s a weird feeling, a little sticky, but she kind of likes it. She wonders if it’s anything like kissing Dream for real. “Nice chapstick,” she says, and her voice comes out a little hoarse. Dream’s throat bobs, and she wets her lips again. “Yeah?” “Yeah. Tastes good, too.” She’s aware she sounds like an idiot, but this is the only coherent thought in her head right now, the only thought that isn’t about Dream’s lips and Dream’s mouth and indirect kisses and direct kisses and– God. She needs to get out of there, before she does something they both regret.

— right through your bones by dizzy (teen | comp. | 3k)

George tries to kiss Dream, and it doesn't go as planned.

— tall man’s burden by alreadyhateyou (expl. | comp. | 4k)

Clearly Dream is tall, clearly Dream is taller and bigger than George, in a lot of ways. Clearly, George is really into this. First it’s Dream’s hands, then his shoulders and chest and thighs. Soon it’s everything. Soon George finds out Dream is big everywhere.

— what a fucked up reality show by brokenlikeastitch (teen | comp. | 13k)

“Have you started studying for the map quizzes?” George asks, shoving some of her stuff over to clear the table in front of the chair next to her like she’s making room for Dream. It’s bizarre, and Dream is caught off guard at the sudden conversation. She’s not sure what exactly she was going to say to George, but now she’s even more unsure what to say. “Not yet, I don’t really like thinking about that class.” George giggles, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear as she does. “Me neither, but I don’t want to fail them because I think I’ll jump off a cliff if I have to take this class again, so.” The giggle makes Dream feel a little faint, and she sits down in the offered seat just to make sure she doesn’t accidentally actually fall out in the library in front of everyone.

— This Ambiguous Edge by Amoxil (expl. | comp. | 21k)

Dream and George don’t care about the label. For months, they do everything that couples do. Everything but sex. George is patient, but Dream’s beginning to skirt the line. George wants to see how far he can push him.

— it isn't new (but it's still you) by mocharex (teen | comp. | 15k)

The slow shift from friends to fiancés to having a family together may take years, but, luckily enough, Dream and George have all the time in the world.

— Reasons Not To Be An Idiot by VicIsWriting (expl. | comp. | 30k)

Dream and George– they used to be friends. Sandbox besties, cradle to grave, ride-or-die kind of friends. Now they’re nothing, just strangers on a college campus who barely look in each other’s direction as they pass by, neutral recognition in both their eyes. When their friendship is revived, something new develops too.

— get busy waiting by alreadyhateyou (expl. | comp. | 17k)

Dream claims he wants to wait until marriage, and while George does his best to respect his wishes, it seems like all Dream does is make them both so, so horny.

if you want a rec of your own on next month's roundup, send it in!

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #dnf fanfic recs #dnfao3tags recs #monthly fic roundup #may 2023

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presidentbungus · 1 year ago

Note

um erm uhh idk how much you’ve talked abt demoscout on here but! who do u think caught feelings first and who was the first to do anything abt it. that and or whatever scenario youre thinking abt them in rn (or just brainrotting in general abt). i just want to talk about my sillies

okkkk:) (writes 1000 words)

I def think scout caught feelings first and didn't really figure out that was what was going on for the month or two it took them to become really close friends. as soon as he kind of figured out it was a romantic thing he fell like a rock, but by then they were already like friends and trying to rizz demo up like he does all his other chicks would be too weird.….. thus ensues an awkward few weeks where scout, World's Worst Secret Holder Ever, does a very bad job at "trying" to "hide" his massive fucking thing for demo by getting weird and twitchy around him and occasionally talking about it very loudly to anyone in the immediate vicinity as long as demo's not within his eyeline.

demo catches on basically instantly, of course, and has been nursing his own little (dramatically subtler) thing for scout over the course of their friendship, but gets stuck in a kind of weird spot where he's too worried to bring it up or even just try and push it further for fear of alienating scout, since scout is notably keen on just running away from difficult situations, and demo thinks that maybe they might just be better off separate anyway. he still flirts back, that said, in subtle and unsubtle ways, and it makes him just a little guilty but it’s so cute to watch the way scout glows up red and shrugs it off, and there’s always the hope that he’ll maybe, just maybe, take the hint, though of course he doesn’t trust himself to go further than just hints.

thus begins a strange waiting game where they're both kind of waiting for the other one to make the first move, resorting to awkwardly flirting-but-not-flirting with each other every five seconds as they start spending more and more time with each other until they're basically dating already. everyone on-base wishes they would just shack up already, since they're tired of the sincere lack of resolution in their relationship (and not even the fun kind—it's just a kind of tragic infinite loop of missed chances and the gossip's getting kind of stale), but it's declared code not to interfere with developing relationships since the general emotional environment in a place with as many screws loose as this one tends to be very fragile, and to be honest everyone's also just kind of waiting with bated breath to see who finally takes the initiative, naturally.

and, well, scout can't hold his liquor despite getting absolutely fucking plastered with demo twice a week, and absolutely fucking plastered demo is still more sober than absolutely fucking plastered scout, and something was bound to slip between the cracks eventually. one night a few weeks in scout crawls into demo's lap (altogether not too uncommon of an occurrence) and, through an impressively thick film of snot and tears, starts to tell him everything, and one thing comes to another and they’re making out by the second or third sentence. demo pulls away, feels so extremely guilty about taking advantage of scout when he’s not thinking straight (despite how deeply wasted he is too), and says we gotta stop here, if we wanna get entangled and whatnot we’ll talk about it when you’re sober and I’m only half-drunk and you can understand what you’re getting into.

and it kind of hurts to say that, for sure, when all this time he’s been waiting for scout for so long and scout just had to go ahead and do it when he wasn’t in one piece of mind about anything, and he’s not sure scout’s making the right decision here going with him anyway—it’s a whole big clusterfuck and they shout a few slurred lines at each other over it, too far gone to argue coherently but certainly awake enough to yell, but when they both end up falling asleep not long after it’s still draped across each other, scout stuck to demo’s side like a bloody limpet. when scout wakes up first he doesn’t remember fucking anything but he’s so hungover and demo’s got an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in, resting his chin on his head and drooling a puddle into his hair, and he definitely gets the general idea. he nudges him awake and demo opens his eyes and immediately starts spilling into a slightly-tearful explanation, pushing away from scout and almost pleading that he’s sorry, and he let himself go and should’ve given him more space and time and he wasn’t thinking straight then and he’s probably not thinking straight now and it’s so fucking stupid that scout just puts a hand on either shoulder and climbs up and kisses him again, right there, and at least, at the very fucking least, that shuts him up.

followed by a slightly more fruitful makeout session, followed by a long boring conversation where demo desperately tries to discuss boundaries while scout wonders why they can’t just get on with being boyfriend-boyfriend already and regularly chimes in to say that man, if I didn’t want to go out with you, I wouldn’t’ve freakin’ kissed you, cool your ass ya big freakin’ sadsack. and that, at least, feels kind of normal, even if nothing about the rest of the situation is remotely normal.

(and for the record, demo puts up such a fight at first and everything, but once he’s figured out scout’s really fine with it they’re sucking face on the kitchen counter about the second day of proper dating-dating. everyone quickly discovers a bad problem absolutely has the possibility to turn into a worse problem, because arguably watching them stumble through a long list of conversational pick-up landmines was preferable to having to listen to them giggle and make out and get all grabby-grabby on the couch next to you when you’re just trying to watch a goddamn movie)

all this is to say: thfey’re silly. I like tghem

#I’m nromal. I’m regular.#thanks for the ask!#bungus headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 #demoscout #hop scotch

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chuuyascumsock · 1 year ago

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Helloooo

That rat reaction pic was both adorable and had me laughing my ass offf(my sense of humor is lowkey highkey kinda broken so apologies 😭)

ALSO

ME??? A MONSTERFUCKER??????HUH?? THAT SOUNDS DEPLORABLE! But youre right so anyway- (kinda actually saw a monsterfucker bingo and did it{yknow just for funsies and shi} and like i ticked off 10 of the 24 boxes? i mean i think thats enough to qualify??? Right??)

okie soo umm i kinda waited too long to type out the thoughts and they um *disssipated* so immm kinda gonna string together the crumbs i still remember🥲

(Also like to clarify when i say werewolf,i kinda mean like the something between like that one halloween official art and atsushi when he’s in his weretiger form?)

Imagine werewolf chuuya who just cant keep his hands off you when he’s in heat,he just NEEDS you,CARNALLY

While you’re cooking dinner he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you,nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,lightly nibbling on your skin and just slightly grinding his crotch into your ass.

After a while you can feel his hard on and how hes desperately trying to hold himself back.

so you do the only sensible thing you can think of~

You turn around and kiss him~

You have no idea how it escalated from a passionate kiss to this,but now he has you bent over the kitchen island,your underwear discarded and forgotten while he frees his hard cock from his now-tight pants.he coats his dick in lube and precum before he thrusts into your rear,(although he’d love to go right at it,he knows your only human and would never want to hurt you) going at an inhuman speed and illicitting the most lewd little sounds for you~

His claws sinking into your hips to hold you in one place,all the while he’s letting out breathy “good girl/boy” and “that’s it take it hnghh you take me so good doll” s as he ruts into your ass.as he feels his climax nearing he goes harder and deeper his throbbing cock continuously hitting your g-spot causing you you whine and moan out loud,all which makes him go harder,the feeling of your tight little hole driving him over the edge and when he finally comes its thick sticky and he doesn’t let a single drop seep out.he continues rutting into you,fuckin his come back into you while keeping you locked in a mating press.after around two to three more rounds(now having moved to the bedroom) he slows down and makes sure your okay.he loves to see the fucked out look on your face as he cleans you up and as he sees your silly little hole white and glazy with his come he has to resist the urge to plug you up and let you stay that way until your next session,but if youve previously said your okay with it he’s definitely gonna do it-

Once your tucked in all nice clean (and *cough*plugged up) he gets into bed as well spooning you and lightly licking the bites and hickey now covering your neck and collarbone.

(I wanna add some more but i think this is already long enough.i hope this makes sense and sounds coherent at least,i think i got a little lost in the sauce🥲)

Also yess i saw that voyeurism tag👀👀👀 (got me wet just thinking about it🫣)

Ooh and also of smut,fluff,angst and crack,What’s your favorite??

And bestie(am i allowed to call you that?) im like 99.99% your irl personality is just as great as your online one🙄🤚

That isnt debatable btw🫶

I speak facts not fiction 😌

Well except for the smut,that’s fictional-

ACTUALLY NO FRICK IT THATS FACTS TOO!🙌

And to end this silly,goofy and unreasonably long ask id just like to wish you a lovely day/afternoon/evening/night filled with snackies,dopamine-inducing events and a lot of,as you said, H2hoe!

Stay safe and slay safe😌💅🏻

(Help its 4.50 am😭🥲)

-🧀

YOU DID, YOU DID GET LOST IN THE SAUCE, YOU WERE DROWNING IN IT 😭 BUT IT WAS GOOD SAUCE, DELICIOUS SAUCE EVEN. (Fr made me choke on my mango and everything while reading).

Glad you specified that you didn’t mean Chuuya like full furry mode or that would’ve been awky 💀

Literally Chuuya— but THAT WAS SO GOOD ACTUALLY. I can’t believe you wrote almost a full smutshot in my inbox, you should rlly write this down and post your own smut LMAO.

I forgot to add something to my Detective Chuuya summary, but it’s ok, I fixed it 🤭

My favorite genre is crack, I feel like I write top tier crack ngl, my Ai chats also look insane with all the silly stuff I do with the characters (literally mostly Dazai bc I kin him so doing platonically silly shit w/ him is my comfort).

AND YES YOU CAN CALL ME BESTIE— I feel like we’re definitely past that 😈 But I will have to deny my irl personality being just as good as my online one because I am socially inept 🥰

ALSO GET SOME SLEEP BESTIE CAUSE THAT’S SUPER IMPORTANT (I’m a hypocrite). BUT EAT A GOOD BREAKFAST AND FUCK UP THOSE CLASSES 💪😼

#casual asks #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya smut

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growling · 9 months ago

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could you perchance elaborate on npd squirrelstar because i think i see the vision

ohhhhh absolutely anon, and as I don't get many asks about warriors: hi :3

Honestly it kinda started out as a pure vibes thing, like I just thought "hmmmm which cats to hit with The NPD Beam.. squirrelstar hhholy shiit i think i just had a vision. i didn't see anything in the vision but I had a visionnn" and it stuck. Mostly headcanon stuff, maybe some slight au territory (but wc canon is already flimsy as it is anyway, so really, it didn't change much from the originals) but the longer I though about it the more it just kinda fits in lol, especially with her torment gauntlet storyline but not entirely because of it, either -

(I do not know how coherent this'll be, or if I even say everything I wanted to, as I am. so sleepy rn) Honestly the first thing I thought after initially coming up with it is. her relationships with Brambleclaw and Ashfur gsfdsghsd. It's very common to just believe that the abuser must be The Narcissist (or that just, all people with npd are automatically predestined to be abusers no matter what) while it's actually way more often that people with npd are more likely to stay in those relationships, or get abused because *shocker* mentally ill people actually way more likely to be treated as subhuman by society and the like. And I've already saw one or two people just proclaim that Brambleclaw is a narcissist because um, *checks notes* he's controlling of his wife and extra sensitive of (oftentimes valid) criticisms of his leadership or something idk man which. uhhhhh. no can we not please + shut up forever + now I'm gonna do the opposite nobody can stop me (also happened with rainflower. and clear sky. and sol. but mostly rainflower. lord help me)

(on a sillier note though....... nothing much to say about Ashfur as of now but after his Squilf/Ashf breakup if he was a human he'd become a self-proclaimed tiktok Dark Empath)

And lastly the headcanon stuff, which I completely made up while stirring the muffin batter but they might or might not have canon basis too, I don't know, I'm not gonna look for it and I don't really care either;

Does the right thing not because it's "what you're supposed to do or whatever idk I have no idea how any of you define it anymore", but because it makes her feel good. And even if by the end of the day she doesn't get any praise or reward for it, even if she gets shunned for it, what matters to her is that she did the Good Thing and therefore she is Good and that's what matters, and everybody else is so stupid for not seeing it. Really, why does it always have to be her that actually bothers with helping people nowadays. She's got a so much better grade at Good Person than like 99% of her Clan, StarClan bless

Leafpool was always consistently her equal person, she deserves the world and maybe even more than she does because she's just that great, it's her an Leafy against the world <3 we're eating soft tacos later <3 hold on Squirrelflight's Hope just called and- oh god, oh fuck

neither low nor high empathy but a secret third thing: really fucking weird ever changing empathy that also varies on whoever it is for some unexplainable reason. Based off what I have and how do I even explain this in simple, not-10-paragraph-post length....... just trust me on this. What I'll say rn is that she tends to personally care about nearly exclusively towards people relevant to her, or those she considers "interesting" regardless if she actually likes them.

always sets her goals either incredibly high (because naturally she's gonna achieve this exactly as she imagined and wait what do you mean-), or very low (so that she can do the woohoo!!! whenever she succeeds)

she splashes water everywhere when drinking she spills it so much she puts all her paws in that damn stream then puts them all over the kids and now they're all wet they all shake it off directly at Brambleclaw

> gets criticized once > fucking dies

I'll add onto this if I have time maybe, and don't completely forget about this whole post

#mine #ask #seweryn's wc tag #wcSquirrelstar #once again sorry if this looks incomprehensible I am so bad at actually articulating myself I think. Usually. also I didn't proofread this<#too tired <3 woohoo!!!!!!!

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dandelion-wings · 2 years ago

Text

While Bennett's Vision acquisition doesn't go as differently from canon as Kaeya's in the Adventurer Kaeya AU, I was kicking the framing circumstances around first while barnsitting this weekend and then with @theabysscomeshome this afternoon, and sketched out something that... kind of matches what I wrote here! I'm being deliberately vague and squishy with ages, but for some clarity, Kaeya is an older teenager and just well behind Diluc and Jean here because he did not have Crepus' tutoring resources for the non-combat parts of the knight trials, while Bennett... was supposed to be a little younger than his voice here ended up sounding. I am bad at writing children. ;; But we don't have actual canon on the age gap anyway, right?

(Also I half-assed a lot of this because I was mostly writing it for the last scene anyway. >> That is the freedom of banging these out as Tumblr one-offs instead of trying to write a longer coherent fic!)

---

ETA: now available on AO3.

---

"Oof!" Bennett hits the ground harder than he thinks Kaeya had expected, twisting his ankle as he ducks away from Kaeya's unexpected back-strike and overbalancing.

Kaeya drops his sword and rushes over to help Bennett up, kneeling down and letting Bennett lean on his shoulder as he prods at the injured ankle. "Whoops. I didn't mean to knock you all the way over."

"It's okay," Bennett assures him, testing the ankle and wincing when he puts his weight on it. "Um, mostly. But I can walk on it!"

He lets go of Kaeya and takes a step to demonstrate, wincing again but refusing to falter. Picking up his sword, he limps over to the side of the Guild's practice ring, where a couple of their dads are watching. He's going to have to be done for today.

"Sorry," Kaeya says, grabbing his own sword and following after. "Not a bad move, though, was it?"

"It was great! I didn't see it coming at all."

"You've been practicing that one on your own, haven't you?" one of their dads asks, looking thoughtfully at Kaeya. "You didn't get it from any of us."

"No. It's… something I remembered seeing my father do once or twice." Kaeya's voice goes quiet, the way it always does when he mentions his old dad, the one who dumped him. Not that he likes to admit that--it's one of the only things he'll get angry at Bennett about, if Bennett slips up and calls it dumping--but their dads have all said so at some point or another. "I thought it might be a useful trick to pull out next week at the knight trials."

"Well, you should try it on someone full-sized, and not a little shrimp like Benny," another of their dads says, clapping Kaeya on the shoulder with a grin. "Come on, let's go a couple rounds."

"Okay," Kaeya says, and follows their dad back out into the ring.

"Hey, Benny, you want a better view?" Without waiting for an answer, his nearest dad scoops Bennett up and sets him on the wall around the ring, then hops up to sit beside him, one hand on Bennett's back to make sure he won't fall backward.

Normally Bennett would enjoy the high-up view, but the moment Kaeya had mentioned the knight trials his good mood at seeing his big brother pull off such a cool move had plummeted. This is going to be the third time Kaeya goes for them, because he's determined to be a knight. Not an adventurer like their dads, even though that's so much better. And Bennett knows there's no way he'd ever make the knight trials even if he wanted to be a knight, which he doesn't. He doesn't understand why Kaeya wants it so badly.

"If he fails the trials this time, do you think he'll give up?" he asks quietly, leaning into his dad's side. He doesn't mean for that to come out hopeful, but he can't hide that he's kind of wishing for it.

"Maybe, maybe not," his dad says, looking down at him. "That's up to Kaeya. You know how badly he wants to succeed."

"Yeah," Bennett says despondently.

"You know he won't be any less your big brother if he becomes a knight, right? He loves you just as much as we do. Having a different job won't change that."

"I know that. But…." Bennett isn't sure how to explain the tangle of feelings in his chest every time he thinks about Kaeya in the Knights. Being away from home even more than he is as an apprentice knight, going off on missions, busy all the time--too busy for Bennett. "What's wrong with being an adventurer like you guys? That's what I'm going to be!"

"There's nothing wrong with it. And you're going to be a great adventurer someday." His dad ruffles his hair. "But there's nothing wrong with being a knight, either. And hey, maybe by the time you're old enough to join the Guild, Kaeya will have gotten bored with the Knights and all their rules and regulations and will want to sign up with your adventuring team instead."

"Maybe," Bennett says, brightening. It's true that if Kaeya stays in the Knights for a while, then he won't have a chance to start his own team, and Bennett can beat him to it. He'd have to join Bennett's then.

"There's that bright Benny smile." His dad ruffles his hair, chuckling. "Make sure you bring that next week when we go to cheer him on, okay?"

"Okay," Bennett says. His dad is already looking away, down at the fight in the ring, so he doesn't try to plaster the smile on as it slowly fades at the thought, once again, of the trials. The notion his dad had spun is only a thin comfort. If Kaeya does pass the trials, why would he give up on his dream after so much work? Bennett wouldn't. And watching Kaeya land a touch on their dad in the ring below, Bennett is glumly sure that this time, he is going to pass. And Bennett is going to have to cheer for him when he does.

He really, really doesn't want to.

***

By the day of the trials a week later, Bennett has all his justifications lined up and solid, the way Kaeya has taught him to prepare excuses before he even runs the risk of getting caught. He's bad luck, and everyone knows that. Their dads have taken him to cheer Kaeya on through the last two trials, and Kaeya has failed both of them. Maybe it was Bennett's luck rubbing off that made him fail. And if it was, maybe Bennett's absence will help him win, finally.

The logic of that is a little too solid, and Bennett spends a few miserable hours contemplating whether he's the reason his big brother is still an apprentice knight instead of a full one after he thinks of it. But that does make him even more determined not to be at the trials. It could be that he really will help Kaeya win with his absence. Either way, he doesn't want to have to watch Kaeya try.

None of their dads would buy it, though, and Bennett knows all of them will go searching when they realize he's not ready that morning. There's enough of them to scour the whole city. To avoid the knight trials, Bennett has to be outside of it. Which means he gets to finally do something he's been anticipating a lot more than he has the knight trials. He's going to go on an adventure, a real adventure, all on his own.

Maybe not a real adventure by the Guild's standards. He knows Katheryne won't give him a commission, so it won't be Guild business, and he won't get paid for it. That's fine. One of his dads had come back from a commission to Old Mondstadt last month with a story of a ruin that had been full of puzzles and treasure, one he'd only gotten to explore halfway before the scholar who'd hired him declared herself done studying the mechanisms and dragged him home. It's full of monsters, too, but Bennett has the sword his dads bought him for his last birthday. It's time to test it out.

His journey to Old Mondstadt starts before dawn, but it's nearly noon by the time he gets there. A rockfall in the canyon, a hilichurl ambush he'd had to run from rather than fight because he couldn't get up the cliffs to the archers, getting frozen by some Cryo slimes by the lake… he's used to those kinds of delays, though, and he's not willing to be phased. None of the arrows hit him anywhere he couldn't patch up, and the sun is warm and bright enough that he's finally getting dry by the time he descends into Old Mondstadt.

The knight trials start at noon, so his dads have probably given up on finding him by now in favor of heading to the trials. They won't be finished until well in the evening. Bennett just has to get back before midnight so that nobody panics. He'll be in a lot of trouble, but if Kaeya passes, probably everyone will be too happy about that to care. Especially once he explains that he was just taking his bad luck to where it couldn't get in Kaeya's way.

With that glum thought in mind, he plunges into the ruins his dad had mentioned, not far from the entrance to Old Mondstadt. The puzzles are hard, and he wishes Kaeya was here, but his dad had done half of them already, and he'd explained the principles behind them while he was telling his story. They're not impossible for Bennett to figure out. All the treasure chests have been opened already, even the ones behind undone puzzles, but… probably those just reset after his dad left. There's going to be really good treasure at the end of this, Bennett is sure of it.

Down one level, then another, and the really good treasure still doesn't show. On the third level down, though, he finds a promising puzzle, way bigger and more elaborate than the other ones. It takes him over an hour to figure out all the way--he keeps accidentally resetting the switches, which doesn't help--but finally it finishes, and a door opens. Bennett rushes forward, grinning, and then finds himself thrown backwards with a yelp as a horde of hilichurls comes rushing out.

It's a rough fight. A very rough fight, and that's by Bennett's standards. He knocks back one hilichurl after another, darts in to slash through samachurls, ducks the heavy shields and axes of mitachurls and even manages to pop up under their guard the way Kaeya has taught them, but there are so many, and they just keep coming. He wishes his dads were here. He wishes Kaeya was here, the way he should be, adventuring with Bennett--but he isn't, and Bennett is going to have to do this alone. And he will. Bennett drives forward with renewed vigor even as hilichurl clubs batter him and bolts burn and freeze him and a whirling axe carves a deep line in his side. He knows it's bad to be losing this much blood. But he got this far, and he can't stop now. Giving up will just get him killed for sure.

At last, he manages to get behind the last mitachurl, copying Kaeya's move the best he can, and as his sword strikes deep the creature vanishes in a puff of smoke. Then the last samachurl, diving through its thorny vines to slash across its front, and the last two hilichurls with one wide strike, and suddenly he's alone in the middle of the puzzle chamber, staring at the still-open door. Beyond, he can see a hefty chest, white paint flaking from ancient metal, gold covered with grime.

Dizzy but triumphant, free hand clasped over his bleeding side, Bennett sheathes his sword and staggers towards the chest. Whatever's in here, he'll bring home, and then their dads will be proud of both of them, Bennett coming back rich from his first adventure the same day that Kaeya finally becomes a knight. He grins broadly as he wedges his fingers under the lid and flips it open.

There's nothing within. Only a few old scraps of cloth that dissolve quickly to dust when the air hits them, and some rusty buckles underneath. Bennett stares down, the grin sliding from his face. Nothing. All that, and there's nothing here? He knows his luck is bad, but….

He shouldn't be surprised. All of his dads have talked about running across this now and then. It isn't just his bad luck. This is part of being an adventurer, his dads have always said--sometimes you get a big score in the course of exploration or a commission, but sometimes you come home empty-handed. The important part is the adventure itself, either way. And he's definitely had an adventure today. Bennett looks down at the wound in his side, his shirt sodden with blood and his hand streaked with red, and forces another grin.

This is still his first adventure. An empty chest doesn't rob him of that. As he folds gracelessly down to the floor, barking his chin on the chest as he goes, the world going blurry and grey all around him, he thinks, with some wonder at the truth of it: he doesn't mind.

***

When he wakes, his wounds are sealed with blisters and charring, and there's something hot and pulsing like his own heart in his hand. Bleary with pain, he's not even quite sure what he's holding, only that it's something he should hold on to, something precious, something he keeps clutched to his chest as he staggers out of the ruins and into the encroaching chill of night.

Somehow he makes it back up onto the bridge leading into Old Mondstadt and down the long road to the winery region south of Wolvendom. The path through the canyon back to the city seems impossibly daunting, especially in the dark, but Bennett staggers on, still holding the hot throbbing thing in his hand. He seems to stumble over every rock and bush on either side of the path as he weaves from side to side, but through the blur of his teary eyes, he does spot the movement ahead. Stepping back, he puts a shaky hand to the hilt of his sword.

"Bennett!" Kaeya's voice rings out before he can draw it, high and urgent, nearly cracking as he rushes forward to yank Bennett into his arms.

"Kaeya? What are you doing here?" It's hard to talk, his tongue heavy in his mouth, but Bennett forces the words out. "You should be celebrating… winning the trials…."

"You really thought I was going to take the trials while you were missing?" Kaeya twists around before Bennett can process that, still holding him close as he shouts over his shoulder. "Over here! I found him. He's hurt- oh, what is this?"

Bennett feels Kaeya's fingers prying his own apart and doesn't resist, letting him take the precious jewel he's been clutching. It's important, he knows that even through the haze of pain, but he can trust Kaeya with it. He can trust Kaeya with anything.

Including his weight, as he feels unconsciousness encroaching once again. He slumps into Kaeya's chest, pressing his face against his shoulder, and lets his big brother hold him up. There's more shouting and ruckus around him, the familiar voices of some of his dads, with Kaeya's softer, cooler tones winding through them. Kaeya hefts him up over his shoulder, assuring their dads that he's got him, and that's the last that Bennett is aware of for some time.

***

Bennett is confined to a bed in the cathedral for five days. He doesn't remember most of it except as vague blurs; his wounds had been cauterized by what his dads proudly tell him is a Vision, but the sisters tell him that burns are easy to infect, and he'd taken a fever on the way home. He sleeps uneasily, plagued by uncomfortable dreams. Every time he wakes, at least one of his dads is there.

Sometimes Kaeya is there too, his hand cool on Bennett's forehead. He's there when the fever breaks at last and Bennett awakes with his head finally clear. Two of their dads are there, too, a little semi-circle of chairs around the bed. His dads are awake, one of them knitting, the other reading a book, but Kaeya is asleep, slumped onto one dad's shoulder, clinging to his arm like he's way too old to do awake. His eyepatch is off, and there's an ugly bruise around the eye, gone yellow and purple with age.

He wakes as soon as Bennett stirs, patting their dad's jacket down for his eyepatch and pulling it on again with a familiar muttered complaint about how it's fine to sleep in, really, before turning to smile down at Bennett with a superior air that doesn't hide his relief. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Bennett says, pushing himself up into a sitting position against the pillow. "What happened to your eye?"

One of their dads sighs.

"You weren't supposed to see that." Kaeya shoots a glare at the dad who had taken off his eyepatch, then turns back to Bennett and shrugs. "But it's no big deal. Captain Ragnvindr got me while my guard was down."

"He what?" Bennett stares aghast, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. "He got in trouble for it, right? A captain of the knights shouldn't go around hitting people. Unless- was he who you had your match against in the trials?"

"I told you, I didn't take the trials. And no, he didn't get in trouble. He told the Grand Master he only hit me because I punched Captain Gunnhildr first."

"What?" Now Bennett is just confused. "Why would you punch Captain Gunnhildr? I thought you said she was nice."

Their other dad snorts behind his hand.

"I only thought so because she gave me some tips for the trials. But the last time I came to visit you, I found Barbara crying in the store room because she refused Barbara's invitation to do something for her birthday. So I told her what I thought of her as a big sister, and I didn't like her response." Kaeya shrugs again.

"Aw, crud." Bennett would probably have punched her too--okay, he wouldn't have, she's a knight captain and a Gunnhildr and she has been nice to him the two times he's come by the Ordo to see Kaeya and run across her there, but he can understand why Kaeya would. Kaeya takes being his big brother seriously. He wouldn't be impressed by someone else making their little sister cry. "You're not in too much trouble, are you?"

"Well." Kaeya leans back in his chair, smirking at Bennett. "Turns out the Grand Master didn't think that was a good reason to punch one of his precious Gunnhildrs, especially after I failed the last two trials and skipped this one. But you don't need to worry about me. Our dads are helping me fill out my application to the Guild."

Bennett knows he should feel bad for Kaeya. He really, really should. But all he can feel is a warm glow of delight, echoed by his Vision, tucked under his thigh amid the covers, blazing bright. "That's great! I mean, that's great you have a back-up. I know you wanted to be in the Knights."

"If Gunnhildr and Ragnvindr are the sort of knight they make captains, it's probably for the best," Kaeya says easily, waving a dismissive hand. "I'll be better off in the Adventurer's Guild. Plus I've been talking to Barbara's dad about helping out part-time in the Church. I won't progress through the Guild as quickly, but it seems like a good idea to know some of the basics of medicine before I join your adventuring team."

"Won't it be the other way around? It's gonna be another two years before I can join the Guild. You'll be senior enough to start your own team first."

"I don't know about that. Even if I get accepted this month, I haven't been on my first adventure yet." Kaeya smiles conspiratorially at Bennett. "It only seems fair that I follow a more experienced adventurer's lead, doesn't it?"

Even knowing Kaeya is only saying it to make him feel good, Bennett can't help but grin back. "We're going to be the best adventuring team ever! I can't wait."

"We are," Kaeya agrees. "It's too bad I won't get to be Sir Kaeya, but really, I think Kaeya of Benny's Adventure Team has a much better ring to it."

#benny kaeya and the seven dads #ascended fic

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youhideastar · 2 years ago

Note

For the WIP title ask game: Alpha WWX Fertility Nonsense.docx please

Thanks for asking! For those following along at home, this is in reference to this post. So the file with that name is the long-promised sequel to And these are all for you; basically, there was this question that Wei Wuxian in that fic had for Lan Wangji (these characters have minds of our own): “Is there anything alpha-Wei-Wuxian has that you want? Like, that you want from me as an alpha, not just—Wei Wuxian?” That discussion ended up not fitting/making sense in the original fic, but I thought it was a really interesting question, and I still wanted to talk about it! Even more so when it turned out the answer was going to lead to some top-notch smut. 😂 It’s still in rough draft, but here’s the first scene (which does not contain top-notch or any other smut, alas):

Wei Wuxian has many flaws. And one of the big ones is that he just cannot leave well enough alone.

Here he is, in Lan Zhan’s bed, in Lan Zhan’s arms, with the moonlight filtering in—and instead of gratefully drifting off to sleep, he has to open his stupid mouth.

“Lan Zhan…”

“Mn?”

“When I asked what I provide for you.”

Beat.

“The—joy, and challenge, and purpose… those are all things… anybody could provide.”

“No,” Lan Zhan says immediately. He does not raise his voice, but it’s definitive like a closing door.

And… yeah, that wasn’t the best way to put it.

“Not anybody,” Wei Wuxian amends. “But—those weren’t things that—that an alpha, specifically, would give you.”

Beat.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says – one of his “mn”s of agreement.

“And I… and that’s okay, obviously! I just, ah.” Beat. “I want to—this is stupid, but I—do you like that I’m an alpha? Do you care about it at all?” He doesn’t even know what answer he wants.

Beat. Lan Zhan does him the courtesy of considering it.

“I do not think I understand the question,” he says carefully.

That’s fair.

“I guess I mean… it doesn’t seem like you’re thinking I’ll… provide for you, like, materially. The way an alpha traditionally would. Which is good because I can’t,” and that hurts to admit, which is where part of this is coming from. “But do you—is there anything alpha-Wei-Wuxian has that you want? Like, that you want from me as an alpha, not just—Wei Wuxian who’s your mate?”

That’s probably not any more coherent than the last question, but Lan Zhan seems to understand it anyway. He nods and says, “Mn.”

Wary, hopeful. “Yeah? Really?” Well, Lan Zhan wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true, he knows that. What he really wants to ask is: “Um, what is it?”

“Wei Ying’s knot.”

Beat where WWX is light-headed. They didn’t do anything sexy tonight because Lan Zhan was still worn out from his heat, but wow. Wow.

“Wei Ying’s rut.”

Is it hot in here?

“And…” LWJ’s eyes cut to the side. “Wei Ying’s get. If Wei Ying is willing.”

WWX just about explodes. He wasn’t expecting that at all. He hides his face. “Lan Zhan! You’ve already given me one beautiful son. How can I ask for more?”

“Wei Ying does not ask. I ask.” Beat. “Only if—if it would bring Wei Ying joy.”

Beat.

“You’re serious.”

“Mn.”

Soft, disbelieving. “You really… you really want to bear for me?”

“I want to bear and raise children with Wei Ying.”

Beat.

“Well, I… I guess that’s something I can provide.” Wei Wuxian is kind of chuffed by that. He can give Lan Zhan a baby! That’s pretty good! Then the doubt creeps in. “Unless—I don’t know,” he realizes. “I don’t know if I can, I can’t imagine all that resentful energy is good for—what if I can’t? What if I can’t even give you that?” Quick beat of WWX self-worth spiraling. “If I can’t even give you a child, you have to—you have to find another mate—”

“No.”

“Lan Zhan—”

“If you cannot sire a child, we will get one the traditional way.”

“The traditional way?!”

“Adopt an orphan we meet on the streets of Yiling.”

BEAT – WWX GETS IT.

“Lan Zhan, stop being so funny! This isn’t a joke—”

“You would care for the child?”

“Of course I would—”

“Feed them, bathe them, keep them from harm?”

“Of course—”

“Give them your love – embrace them and praise them and teach them right from wrong?”

“I don’t know if I’m qualified to do that last part.”

“But you would try?”

Quick beat. Muttered: “I would try.”

Satisfied: “Wei Ying provides well for our family.”

Our family.

“Lan Zhan!” WWX wails.

Lan Zhan makes no retort – just radiates smugness. He thinks he’s won, apparently.

He probably has.

It’s not like Wei Wuxian can deny him anything.

“Wei Ying should sleep,” Lan Zhan rumbles. “His rut is coming.” MEANINGFUL STROKE. “He will need his strength.”

Wei Wuxian shivers. “Shameless,” he mutters.

But he’s pretty sure Lan Zhan means it. So he curls up against Lan Zhan’s side again and tries to sleep. It doesn’t take long.

#fic asks #my fic #wip wednesday #wangxian a/b/o bingo #the untamed #wangxian

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lanshappycorner · 4 months ago

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i was rlly hoping that id have coherent things to say over your akuta and akushio threads on twt but i fucken dont have anything except just incoherent screaming and keysmashes /pos running through my head everytime i reread them so im just settling on just to say, one? HANDSHAKING YOU AT MACH SPEEDS I ALSO WANT TO AKUTA BREAKDOWN IN FRONT OF DAY2 BC CMON!!!! (side b tls arent complete but ive been spoiled a bit) but god the amt of breaking points (which i all favorited on eitori as i read along the tls bc why not) i was SO sure wouldve shown akuta outwardly disheartened and then DIDNT happen was just, felt like a damn chekovs breakdown in this instance, just WAITING for the shoe to drop, (which it does seem to, eventually, and im waiting to get absolutely WRECKED once tls for that moment drop) i absolutely love the way you break down akutas incapability of showing vulnerability as a whole bc of this just. notion that if he "breaks character" he'll just. lose the ppl that he has in his life? im bad at verbalizing my thoughts but everything on ur thread just had me pointing like YES, YES EXACTLY!!! i think. like looking back a lot of ppl in the game comment "wow nothing rlly brings akuta down!!! im glad!!" and it just makes me want to hit a wall, i am so so SO sad that hes able to hide this so well??? or at least, just, in a way that ppl around him just go "oh he'll bounce back, this is good ol' akuta, i dont need to worry too much"???? and the specific mention of his um vocal tics? vocal quirks? makes me want to revisit said chapters where his voice does that bc its such an interesting thing that i did notice but cld again never articulate, and how he always leaves- no, rather he tries to get away from people once he gets dejected and loses that rasp in voice and, adopting This into the belief system, him being on the verge of crying (which is such a thought that breaks my damn heart so bad) i remember reading the tl for akutas novel and just feeling my heart absolutely Crumble at the way his thoughts were running once the whole jig was up with sayochan "as long as no one gets hurt, its whatever" and like WHAT ABOUT YOU!!! YOU GOT HURT FROM THIS!!! (and im so so so glad that day2 and the whole of HAMAhouse was angry on his behalf n went to cheer him up and just, good god kid you have ppl who love you they wont leave if you show some vulnerability i promise, fuck) this isnt short anymore i apologize, ,, (1/?)

HELLO ANON THANK U FOR THE ASK THIS MADE ME VERY HAPPY !!!!!!!🫶🫶🫶 I've been stewing over what to say so it took me a while to reply but . Yeah

ANYWAY SO if you have not yet read side B you are in for a ride ....some of the things he says about himself will have u screaming crying throwing up fr (spoilers i guess but one thing he straight up says is that he's (or rather, his existence is) a nuisance . so thats great <3) he made me audibly gasp in horror.......it probably hits different too because throughout the story he has kept his cool and insists that things don't bother him so when the dam breaks...ohhh...💀💀

(Also speaking of his voice I went back and replayed that chapter where he's in the theater dressed as a crab and you can kinda see that in his voice again😭 and also his usual coping mechanism happens when the mc suggests they wait a while longer for more ppl to show up and he just jokes that his butt hurts from sitting, but his laugh was really weak like he was completely trying to play it off😭 He also somewhat drops the usual raspiness in his voice when he starts to ramble right before the movie but it's not because he's sad but because he's genuinely excited to talk which makes me so ��🥺🥺🥺🥺)

BUT SAME THOUGH . HIS NOVEL MADE ME FROWN SO HARD.....he downplays a lot of his own emotions in favor of other people's feelings and he doesn't express his own anger....I'm so glad the ppl in HAMA House are there to support him😭 I hope one day he learns he can be more vulnerable with them because they all care for him and would never abandon him😭😭)

as for the Akushio thread!! I have to agree that their appearances do betray how you'd expect them to be, as with a lot of day2 tbh !! Like a lot of their 1st impressions don't line up with how they actually are/think (i would talk abt it but if I did we'd be here all day so that's for another time💀)

I can't say for sure but I feel like u might be onto smth abt Akuta twisting a lot of stuff ppl say into compliments. Like as long as it's not straight up an insult, he can appreciate that ppl r taking time to talk to him I think

(I agree I hope he gets to talk to taichi although that might be because I'm biased as a taichi akuta oshi)

OOO OKAY so I think that if Ushio ever confessed I think. I think it would break Akuta's brain for a second😭 probably because it's Ushio of all people like rly??? USHIO?? but also he might find himself doubting it for a moment he might think that it was a joke but also he knows Ushio wouldn't joke about that ....so he might have to take some time to himself to think abt this, and he might need Ushio to like. Talk to him in depth abt how he feels abt him😭 (speaking of which I've kinda had an idea similar to an akushio confession but not rly ?? bouncing around in my head for a while now so mayhaps I will draw that sometime...)

NO YEAH IM OBSESSED....Akuta going to Ushio for affection is so cute (although I'm pretty sure he goes in expecting that Ushio would not agree💀) ....I hope one day Akuta goes to Ushio for affection again and Ushio actually does it and this freaks Akuta out so bad he gets really red and nosebleeds or smth idk

Anyway to answer the last part of ur ask, don't worry this isn't imposing or anything I love talking abt my blorbos<3 there's very few ppl who like this ship and stuff anyway so I rly appreciate it, ty for the nice ask anon!🫶🫶

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bruisedboys · 2 years ago

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could I request something from Eddie’s POV? maybe where he and the reader are pretty friendly but just about acquaintances and he’s kind of obsessed with her (in a semi creepy but mostly he’s so in love) thank you thank you

thank you for your request, I love writing in eddie’s pov it’s so fun. hope this is okay!!

fem!reader 0.6k words

Eddie Munson is never going to get over the fact that you, the prettiest, sweetest girl he’s ever met, actually wants to be in his company. What’s more, you want to endure Hellfire to spend more time with him.

Hellfire, as its name suggests, is not far from hot hell. He still doesn’t know why you’re here.

“Edster.” Your voice is a little jokey as you nudge Eddie’s elbow with your own, your shoulder pressing into his. “Y’didn’t go and get lost on me again, did you?”

Eddie blinks. “What?”

You giggle, a sweet sound that makes Eddie lightheaded. “Nothing, bub.” Your hand lands on his knee and you give him a squeeze. “Doesn’t matter. How long til your club gets here?”

Eddie forgets how to speak. Your hand sets his entire leg on fire. He fishes around his brain for an answer.

“Oh, um. I dunno, they should be here soon.” Eddie rubs the back of his boiling hot neck. “Maybe five minutes?”

Whether you notice his lack of coherent speech or not, Eddie doesn’t know. You stand and suddenly Eddie’s staring right at the back of your thigh, your skin exposed by your short skirt. He thinks he might die on the spot.

Eddie talks without really meaning to, his mouth spilling words before he can stop them. “So, um. Why are you here again?”

He’d meant it like why are you hanging out with me, a total loser? But he’d accidentally made it sound like he doesn’t want you here, which is definitely not the case. You turn from where you're poised over the table, looking understandably offended.

Eddie scrambles. “I-I mean.” He’s definitely red in the face. Definitely. He scrubs the back of his neck again like that will help. “You don’t even like Dungeons and Dragons.”

Understanding crosses your face and then a flash of something akin to embarrassment, though it’s so quick Eddie thinks he might’ve imagined it. You shrug and round the table, your perfectly lacquered nails dragging over the wood.

“I dunno,” you say, voice a pitch higher than usual but Eddie’s so up in his head he doesn’t notice. “Seems kinda fun to watch.”

“It’s not.”

You snort. “You’re not being a very good advocate of your own club right now, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs, because you’re funny and you’re pretty and he has no idea how the fuck he’s supposed to act around you. Meanwhile, you’re leaning over the table to pick up a dice, your necklaces dangling. Eddie accidentally looks straight at your chest and then hastily looks away, his face burning. He really needs to get this staring problem under control.

“Eddie, are you okay?” You ask. You’ve got a dice in your hands, fiddling with it in your ringed fingers. But you’re frowning. “You look distracted.”

I’ve been caught, Eddie thinks. Red handed.

“Who, me?” He says jauntily, hitching what he hopes is a convincing grin onto his face. “I’m fine. Just thinkin’.”

You snort. “Eddie Munson, thinking?” You tease, sarcasm drenching your tone. “What about?”

“Super important Hellfire stuff,” Eddie lies through his teeth.

You look like you maybe know he’s lying but then he’s saved by the door opening and loud voices flooding in. In come his clan of nerds, louder than a band of monkeys.

“Hey, Eddie!” Says one of them.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” says another.

“Didn’t know you were bringing your girlfriend to club today!” Says Gareth gleefully.

Eddie groans. “Fuck off, Gareth.”

His face burning, Eddie looks to you, an apology on the tip of his tongue but you’re giggling and looking almost as flushed as he feels.

Mid-laugh you meet Eddie’s gaze and smile at him in a way that he doesn’t quite understand but makes his heart race anyway.

“It’s okay,” you mouth, before he can apologise for his friend’s absurd behaviour.

Eddie’s thinking about it for the entire rest of the meeting.

#★ mal writes!#ღ eds #finally FINALLY got this done. yay #I’m trying to finish all my asks so I can do my 1k LMFAO #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader fluff

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luimagines · 3 years ago

Note

Soulmate AU with the chain? Separate or Together its up to you! Do what you want with this idea :)

Masterlist

Absolutely!! Did anyone tell you that it's my favorite trope of all time?

I'm doing all the boys- all with different connections- just you see!

Part one will include Hyrule, Legend and Wild.

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

Your soulmate was either a dare devil, a crime boss or incredibly unlucky- just straight up unfortunate.

The meter on your arm was almost always in the red. It covered from the inside of your elbow to the end of your wrist on the worst days. Some days it wouldn’t even change color, it would just be a high alert, blaring red. Sometimes it was low. It wasn’t even beyond your forearm but that was a rare occasion.

As a child, you thought it was cool and that it was more about your mood than anything else. And then you learned.

“You have a meter that shows how in danger your soulmate is.” A pause. “It’s incredibly high. I hope they’re alright.”

That’s what they told you.

As you learned more about it, it came to your attention that not only could you do nothing about it, but it didn’t affect you in anyway. It was just to let you know.

At first, you would worry yourself sick, and you hate to admit it but with time, you didn’t think about it that often. Perhaps the place where he lived was dangerous? Or maybe is was prone to natural disasters and violence? Being in danger doesn't necessarily mean that he’s hurt. Right?

That’s what you told yourself.

Anyway.... You tried to ignore the heightened feeling of stress and anxiety when you saw that the meter was about as high as it ever has been. Not to mention that there were multiple signs of fighting just beyond you and you did not want to take any part of that action.

Lightning filled the area, and a scream rips through you before you can even see what caused it.

Next thing you know, you’re on the ground and there are people around you. Someone has you in their arms and there’s lots of yelling. But you can’t see clearly, it’s all blurs of shapes and colors and you can’t make anything out.

You black out.

Waking up, you’re in a bed. You recognize it. It’s one of the beds at the local inn. You’re essentially back home. Your house is an ten minute walk from here. You’re safe.

A boy walks into the room and you sit up, alarmed and on high alert still. He’s carrying a tray with steaming bowl and a glass of water. He sees you and looks relieved. “Oh thank goodness you’re awake. We were starting to worry. You got caught up in a magic attack. How do you feel?��

“Better.... I suppose...” You keep your mouth closed as you speak, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“I have a friend that wants to ask you a question, if you don’t mind.” He sets the tray on the bed side table. “I can go get him?”

“Uhhh... sure...” Because why not?

“Great! I’ll go tell him you’re awake!” He leaves with a smile and you’re confused. But the simple meal smells nice you haven’t eaten in a while.

Another boy tumbles in. Brown hair, muddy clothes, green tunic and brown pants. He looks frazzled.

“Um... hello? My name is Link.” He says after a beat of you two just staring at each other. Someone yells something from just beyond the door that you can’t make out and he closes it. “Sorry my... my friends can be annoying. I just wanted to know how you were feeling.”

“Good.... I’ve been better.”

He laughs a bit, nervously and scratches the back of his head. “I believe it... I’m sorry. I need to apologize.”

You tilt your head.

“I did a thunder spell and I didn’t know you were nearby.” He scratches his forearm. “It’s my fault you got to begin with.”

“Oh.” You say dumbly. “....You do magic?”

You don’t know where your brain went. It’s gone. He’s cute and shy and you don’t who he is but you can swear that you should be able to form more coherent thoughts than this.

“Yeah...” Link smiles tensely. “Umm..... My friends.. wanted to bring up... your arm.” He points to his own, mirroring where it would be on you. you look to where he’s pointing and it’s your soulmate meter.

It’s now the lowest it’s ever been. You didn’t even know it could be green.

“Oh thank god, they’re safe.” You blurt and hold your arm close.

“Meaning?”

“Sorry.” You say. “My soulmate. They always seem to be in trouble or in danger. This is the lowest I’ve ever seen it.”

You turn to look at him again and he’s taken off his arm guard. He has one too.

“It was the highest it ever was when I did that spell.” He whispers. “I was afraid that-”

All thought process has gone out the window. You stare at him and if you paid close enough attention, or had a sense for magic, you would see faint golden strands in the air, thickening coiling around the two of you as he approaches. But he can see them and he knows.

“Oh my god, is this you?” You point at your arm and he flushes the deepest red you’ve seen on a person. It’s enough to match the typical red on your arm.

“Um...” He wasn’t anticipating your question.

“ARE YOU OK?!” You screech, flinging yourself out of the bed. You run up to him and circle around him, lifting his arms and tilting his head to find anything- something worse fussing over. But aside from the mud on his clothes, and tare here and there, he’s fine.

“....Yes, I’m fine.”

“Why are you in danger all the time?!?” You plow through his quiet nature. “What’s going on? Is it something big? Is it just your home? What-”

“Ok, ok, ok... I guess I should explain myself to you.”

“Please do.”

Legend

Your soulmate bond was... a bit complicated. You shared a dream scape and there was... how do you say it... An incident...

Every night when you’d go to bed, you’d enter a void of sorts and there would be a boy around your age there to talk to you. When you were younger you didn’t know what to make of it but he was always there. You spoke to each other often and about everything.

As you got older you learned about soulmates and the bonds people can share. You knew you shared a dream bond. You knew it. But one day.... you woke up on an island.

It was beautiful and there were nice people who helped you. There were monsters and talking animals and a giant egg on a mountain. Then he showed up. It was you who brought him to Marin’s and Tarin’s house. You waited by his side for him to wake up. You didn’t think you’d been so nervous in your life.

When he woke up. You were both so happy. It brought tears to your eyes. you both didn’t know where you were or what was happening but that didn’t matter.

It had all felt so real. Link showed you that he knew how to fight. Protected you from the monsters as you both explored everything the island had to offer. And then Link went into the egg... alone... for reason that escape even now...

And then you woke up.

It should have clicked. You would have never met him before then and there was still little ways for you to meet him in the real world. It was heartbreaking.

Even still, your bond still existed and when you fell asleep the next night, he was there again. Concerned and pacing back and forth in the void. He took one look at you, and sprinted in your direction. He had hugged you tightly that even when you woke up the next day, you could have sworn that you still feel his phantom touch.

But things have been tense between you two ever since.

You had accepted that you were both afraid of losing each other. The pain of never being able to say goodbye or even hold each other in your arms. The idea of going to sleep and the other just... never showing up. It scared you. Terrified you. You found yourself crying at just the very thought that one day Link would just... vanish.

A portal appeared by your front door.

Throwing caution to the wind (as one does) you went through it. Soon you came face to face with multiple portals- each identical the last, varying with other individuals that have also walked through it.

They look armed though and you feel drastically under dressed in comparison.

And then one face strikes you as familiar. Your breath catches in your throat and you freeze on the spot. You can see someone of the others look around, and can feel when you look at you as well, just for locking onto this one boy... You take a deep breath and your voice comes out low. A whisper, for if it were any louder it would shatter your fragile view of reality as it was. It comical, the way that the other young men and even the forest that surrounds seems to quiet down for you to speak, giving it more amplitude that it would have received otherwise. “...Link?”

He stops dusting himself off. His head (and a few others admittedly) snapping in your direction. He freezes as well, his mouth dropping somewhat. “Is it-? Are you-?”

Your hand covers your mouth. Tears begin to pool in your eyes against your will but you can’t find it within yourself to move.

The portal closes behind you.

Link gets his senses back first and sprints toward you. The sense of deja vu hits you full force. Like that first night after Koholint.

When Link’s within reaching distance you hug him back as tightly as you can manage. Your eyes close and the tears fall. You hide them in the crook of his neck. He’s shorter in real life than you’d thought he’d be. A small laugh leaves you, if only to keep you from falling into hysterics. “You’re here. This is real. You’re real and here and I can finally hold you.”

Neither of you noticed the golden light that seems to seep out of every corner where you both make contact with each other. you’re too caught up in the fact that you can even smell each other and feel the texture of each other clothes for the first time since you were children.

Someone claps from behind you, breaking up the moment. “Congratulations! not everyday that soulmates meet each other.”

That seems to que in the others and even if you’ve never seen them before. You don’t care. Link smiles back at you, kissing your forehead to the best of his ability. You don’t know what awaits you, but you’re suddenly very excited for your future.

Wild

It has come to your attention that you have no idea what the color blue looks like. You thought you knew until you pointed to someone what was blue in your eyes, only to be told that you were crazy and color blind.

And then you learned about soulmates and how some people, which you learned included yourself, couldn’t see the color of their soulmates eyes- until they met them that is.

Now that seemed rather unfair in your eyes (no pun intended).

How come everyone seemed to be ok with your soulmate stealing a whole color from you? Why was that treated as normal?

Well they can keep the color! Or so you thought.

After a few years of this logic it was to once again be pointed out to your face that your soulmate couldn’t see the color of your eyes and it helped the bitter somewhat.

For petty reasons, but that’s not important.

Time went by and you never would have imagined the very place where you’d meet your soulmate. Let alone what he did for a living.

You’d very quickly gotten used to never being able to see the color blue- at least not in the same way everyone else did. You didn’t know what you were missing out on so it didn’t bother you as it did when you were younger.

You were going about, minding your own business and getting your chores done for the day. Suddenly there was a commotion within your little town and you looked in the direction of the noise.

You weren’t able to see much, only that a crowd was gathering around it, like a shield. Confused, concerned and intrigued by what has entranced your neighbors, you made your way over to the spectacle.

There was another group inside- all armed to the teeth with all sorts of weapons. It startled you, but two of them seemed to be wrestling... well three but it appears like he was thrown out of the ring.

Two guys were holing onto the fighters each, making it nine total. The initial fighters, seemed to be able to hold their own and nearly broke out of all restraints.

It was getting ugly and you didn’t need to stick around and potentially get caught in the cross fire. It was time to leave.

Or so you thought.

Somehow, and later on you suspect that he did it to himself, one of the fighters gets launched out of the ring, over the crowd and lands on top of you.

You groan, going over a mental check list if you had anything broken or injured. Your ribs might be bruised, your basket is destroyed and you landed weirdly on your wrist but that’s thankfully the extent of your injuries. The guy rolls off of you.

You push yourself up and get ready to give him a piece of your mind. You get a good look at him as you go to stand up once more. You can hear his companion running towards you but you don’t care what they think. You take a breath and open your mouth to speak, until you see him look up at you.

It takes your breath away- the crystal clear color of his eyes. It’s a color you’ve never seen before.

Slowly, your surroundings change and you can see everything where that color should have appeared. You look up.

The sky is blue too.

The guy scrambles to his feet and he stands in front of you. “I’m so sorry. That was a miscalculation. I didn’t to hit you or land on your or really.... I’m sorry. Are you hurt? Are you alright? My name is Link.”

The information processes through your head slowly. Now you get a better look at him. Long blond hair, blue tunic (huh), a black cloak and scars all across the left side of his face. He’s rambling words in front of you and you can almost admit that it would be endearing to you, but-

“You stole the color from me.”

“And then I-... I’m sorry?”

“You should be.” You stand straighter. “This color is beautiful. Why did you take it all for yourself? Selfish.”

He bites his lip and takes a step back. “Um.... I don’t know where to go from here.”

Frowning, you put your hands on your hips and look at him again, making it clear that you’re sizing him up. He squirms under your gaze. His friends are all frozen on the outskirts of this interaction. Some seem to be catching on faster than others but you take mercy on the boy before you.

You stick your hand out and say your name. “I suppose it is my luck to have my soulmate crash into my life.”

He laughs nervously and takes it. “Quite unintentional, I assure you.”

“It’s tea time.” You say, dusting yourself off. “Would you care to join me?”

He smiles, the tension dropping from his shoulders somewhat. “I’d like that.”

Part 2

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader

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