Oc Fic - Tumblr Posts
Is this my sign to read again mutual help? I think it’s is… so here we go again…
Fragments - Chapter 1: The body
{Co written by my bff: @nach-ito !!} (Btw I'm gonna preface this by saying this is an OCxOC fanfic that takes place within the FNAF universe, and it's a sapphic fic so if that isn't for you feel free to check out my other stuffs!)
Seline walked down a path and looked around, she'd seen Elise walking around these parts previously. But oddly enough she couldn't seem to find her this time around. She’d looked around every corner, every alleyway, in stores and little corner shops in Hurricane. Despite her efforts, she still remained confused on where the blonde had gone off to. She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair and grasped a handful of it before letting go, taking occasional sips from her coffee. She continued walking down the path, the sounds of gravel crunching coming from underneath her boots. Seline stretched her back, rolling her shoulders to try and relieve some tension in them. She looked around once again, watching the cars pass. A thought came to mind when she remembered that Elise usually brought robotic parts back to the dorm room of their college. She scratched her head with her only free hand. She thought about one of the nearest and oldest Fazbear attractions in town. It was easy enough to get there and back without getting caught by any still functioning CCTV.
Seline threw her coffee cup into a nearby trash bin and made her way down to the old building. She took quick strides, hoping to arrive there sooner rather than later. She glanced around, looking at the fewer people in the area with their family, friends, people walking their dogs. She dipped into an alleyway and took out her phone, turning on the flashlight and shining it around the darkened areas.
Her eyes adjusted as she noticed a figure in the distance, bobbing up and down as if actively grabbing things. The sound of rustling metals that scratched together filled the area. Seline took cautious steps, avoiding getting scratched and moving in the clearer areas. As she glanced down at the animatronics, she screwed up her nose at the state of them. Most of them were decrepit at best “Eli, is that you down there?” Seline called out, coughing gently from the roaming dust in the air as she squinted her eyes to get a clearer look. Elise looked up from grabbing burned robotic limbs and turned to look at Seline. “Oh, Hi Sel! What’re you doing here?” She asked, shoving the arm of a small endoskeleton into her bag. “Wondering where you keep disappearing off to. And, it looks like I know now.” Seline replied, crossing her arms and keeping her phone steady in her hand while watching Elise’s movements. “It’s just a little hobby I’ve picked up, nothing drastic. Plus it’s for the science fair! So this stuff won’t go to waste just sitting here like zombies or whatever.” Elise continued to walk around, searching for more scraps. “I suppose that's understandable. But still, y'know the Freddy Fazbear attractions and stuff have serious stuff behind it. How do you know that it isn't haunted or something?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow, taking a few steps forward. Elise burst out into a fit of laughter at Selines comment, which just made her more annoyed. Seline frowned, she shook her head and looked at her phone. “Oh Sel, you really need to stop watching so many of those ghost hunting shows. They’re messing with your brain!” Elise said before wandering further down into the smoky corridor. Seline followed her, she huffed and had to hold back the urge to roll her eyes. “Yeah, right.” She grunted, shining the light around the halls. “Seline, come look at this!” Elise shouted, looking to her friend. Seline sighed and quickly hurried over to where Elise was, being careful not to trip on anything on the ground. “Yeah?” She asked, approaching Elise. “I found a vent! I’m gonna go inside it!” Seline just stared at Elise like she was insane. “You're joking, right?” Seline asked with utter disbelief, watching Elise crouch down. “Nope!” She giggled and entered the vent, leaving Seline to just watch her probably seal her fate. “Are you normally this careless, Eli?” Seline sighed, looking down into the vent and started to consider following her.
“OH MY GOD! SEL, THERE’S A DEAD GUY IN HERE!”
Character: OC
Mentioning: Secret favoritism, adoration at the (first) sight. Add your own. (Different ages)
Theme: College background. Reader as a student of Visual Communication Design Art here.
Please consider what you read. (Just a heads-up)
The art professor who first met you during the first introduction of the course on the first day. All new students look the same in his eyes. Except for you who stand out so much. Not sweetening your voice during the introduction. What's your name again, dear? Oh don't worry he doesn't really care about the bags under your eyes. You look good just the way you are.
The art professor who noticed how the students complained about how annoying his first assignment was. What? It's for your own good. So that your hands are not stiff, making lines without the help of a ruler. It's a good start to become an artist. (Bro you're serious? 🤨) Even you secretly struggle by making full lines on A3 paper. How adorable.
The art professor who praised your line results even though he said it would be better if the lines were sharper. He could see your face fall, frowning from the corner of his eyes. Oh, stop whining. He couldn't stand to see it. So adorable.
The art professor continued to stare at the results of your constructive drawing in his hand. Although there were some black marks, he could feel the hard work of your dull hands, he could barely feel the texture of your hands on the slightly wrinkled paper. You still tried to be gentle with the paper. Your eye bags were also very visible. Oh, he shouldn't have bothered you with this assignment.
The art professor gave you an exception to sleep in his class because you didn't get enough sleep and had trouble sleeping. He didn't care that students labeled him as favoritism if it meant he could continue to admire you while you sleeping.
The art professor who put snacks with a note on your desk after his lecture is over. Don't worry about how he knows your favorite snack. He doesn't mind even though it's expensive.
The art professor who can't stop glancing at you every now and then whenever he explains on the board. Never mind some students start nodding their heads to hold back their sleepiness and laziness in the middle of his explanation. His eyes only on you.
The art professor who started imagining your hand in his during his free time. He couldn't mind your hand in another part of his body. (Bro should go to the therapy. But x reader is allot more cheaper and free.) Never mind the strange lyrics of other professors in their office seeing his strange movements. Addoring is more like obsession, then even scarier. Let's just say from the eyes down to -heart- desire. Don't worry, it's just a little addoration towards his cute little student.♡
... right?
»»-----------fin-----------««
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I'm back mf!!😤
..what is his name? Jamal? Heck. I'm not good at naming oc. Gimme some advice🙏😞
Lady in red
My trade part for @phoenix-the-mistfit-fire-bird, hurt/comfort oneshot featuring her OC Amelia and someone's else OC Katie and her child.
TW: tiny bit of gore, shooting, alcohol mention.
Also WLW ship and author's first language is not English.
______________________________________
Lady in red
At the morning Amelia is sitting in the kitchen and drinking her coffee. It’s black and bitter, so she adds balsam. Not too much, just a couple of drops. Maybe a little more but not more than usual. She sips her drink, quiet and calm. A few precious moments of peace she’ll miss all day. Air smells bitter, just like her coffee, and also a bit rotten. It’s fall.
The skyline is painted red, yellow and purple, sunlight casts golden flares on the windows. It makes her eyes hurt a little. Not more than usual.
The fox leaves her house, slowly slipping in her officer Holmes persona, cold and relentless like nature around her. Officer Holmes doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate, she’s watching, listening, investigating and then she acts, quick and clean. She’s not afraid to get herself in danger. She’s not afraid of blood.
But Amelia is.
Amelia fears, shivers and breaks every time she sees blood, her ears crack and ache with every shot, her paws feel so so heavy when they raise up a gun. She doesn’t even realize at first that one of the bullets hit her. But when shootout is over, officer Holmes bursts and underneath this shell appears hot, pulsating, wet flesh of Amelia. It’s her who bleeds all over her already red fur, not the hero of the day. Shot didn’t get to her bones, but muscles burn with pain, and blood just keeps pumping making her shirt red too. “Talk about one splash of colour” the fox thinks tiredly.
When tight stitches cover the wound, she exhales. It’s almost like at the morning, but instead of soft rustle of leaves there’s sharp buzzing of the lamp. It makes her skull itch. Soon some of her colleges come in, they ask how she doing, wish her to heal fast. They congratulate officer Holmes, she did great they say. Officer Holmes is grateful and proud. Amelia feels lonely. Maybe a little more than usual.
A few hours pass when suddenly she hears a knock at the door. It crack the silence and cracks her loneliness. It’s Katie.
- It’s me, - she says.
- It’s you, - Amelia smiles weakly.
Katie apologizes for making her wait for so long, gives her homemade Toad in the hole, inspects her wound. Bobcat’s paws are warm and her touch is gentle. It rebuilds Amelia piece by piece, quiet and calm. They drink coffee together, and there’s no balsam in the hospital, only cheap and plastic cream. But Katie is smiling back at her and jokes and laughs and the tips of her ears shake a little, so it tastes better than what Amelia had at the morning. The visitor gives fox a painting, clumsy scribble from her kid. It shows an animal, splash of red colour, crooked but happy. Little Amelia replica eats the biggest cupcake ever made. Katie says, they really had some at home but David got so scared and worried for auntie Mia, he ate it all. It’s okay. None of them are mad.
And then it’s unexpectedly so late already. Amelia wants to stay up, but she knows it’ll slow her healing and Katie will bite off her ears for this. She also knows David needs his mom. They share goodbye and then last it a bit longer.
- Pass David from me, - the fox asks, ruffling other’s fur.
- And you take it from me, - Katie grins coyly before giving her quick peck on the cheek.
The light still buzz even louder in now asleep and quiet hospital but it doesn’t bother Amelia anymore. Tossing in bed, fox can feel herself turning red.
You spot something gleaming just opposite to you. The twinkling seems to emanate from under the bed opposite to you. A glass of water hiding underneath the cot opposite you sits just on the border between the carpeted flooring of the section you are sitting in and the plain, cold marble floor of the hallway. Now that the chains are off, you can crawl to the cot and drink water. The edge, energy and adrenaline of success have not yet worn off, so you crawl over to the bed. Beside the water, you find a small, rectangular object covered with a smooth wrapping paper with 'Granola Energy Bar' scrawled over it.
Here's something you're familiar with.
You have no idea what the word 'Granola' means, but you had energy bars back at your home timeline. They were, of course, raw sources of power. ATP chemicals made into a form easily absorbable by your body. And the synthetic flavourings made them delicious. You have always wished they used that synthetic flavouring for everything, but you knew the science behind it well enough to not want to ingest more than a few grams of it. After all this struggle, you deserve something at least a little palatable.
You drink your glass of water and empty it in one swig. You pick up the bar, and just as you are about to tear through the wrapping paper like an animal, you spot another piece of paper stuck to the back of the bar, which reads, "Sorry for the unappetising snack- we know you deserve better after so much effort, but this was all we can offer you here. Good job on making it so far. You'll find a real treat when you reach the Final Puzzle."
Unappetising? Whoever this person was, they clearly had not experienced the delectable delights of an Energy Bar.
You tear open the paper in a brutish manner (as you knew you would) and take a bite of the bar. You expected something completely different. You expected to be relieved of all the pain in one go and get filled with energy at the first bite. You expected to be floating on cloud nine with the fresh hit of flavour. What you got, of course, was a sore disappointment.
The energy bar tasted like flat granular pieces of thick sandpaper glazed with some odd sticky syrup to attempt compensation for the appalling texture and taste. The person writing these notes was right about the unappetising taste of the energy bars of the Others.
What pitiable little creatures.
You scarf down a huge chunk of the bar despite the appalling taste. Your insatiable appetite does not possess any regard for taste, and you eat as if you have been on the brink of famine this entire time. Only a quarter of the energy bar is left unconsumed by the raging fire of your appetite. You can only suppress an unappetising taste for so long before it hits you. And when it hits you, it hits you like a trainwreck.
You remain seated for a while, waiting for the 'energy' part of the energy bar to kick into action. You've had this happen to you before, especially when you feel extremely tired; your body will not have enough strength to immediately absorb the energy and will take a little time to do so. When the energy gets absorbed though, you receive an instantaneous "kick" feeling that instantly rejuvenates and energizes anyone in desperate need of energy.
You wait for what feels like an eternity for the kick of energy, but it never comes. Tired of waiting, you get up. The energy bar has given you just as much energy as you would've gotten from eating something like a sandwich or a small salad. It was definitely there, but not really energy-restorative or adequate compensation for all the suffering you were put through. That ever-present ache all over your body had dulled down just enough to allow you to divert some energy into moving around.
You have a nagging feeling of wondering whether those who were in charge of this whole situation wanted you in this crippled, energy-deprived state for whatever sick things they wished to do.
Just because you have a tad more energy doesn't mean your body will stop trying to act sluggish. You drag your feet across the room. You need to examine the room. Perhaps there are more clues as to what this place is and how you even got to an Other Uni. Maybe even a clue as to how to get out of this place and back home?
You reach a wall and plaster your hands to it. You'd thought that the decorative paper would have made the paper smooth, but the walls were still harsh. It had the texture of old watercolour paper that was left exposed to friction and the air for too long.
You examine the posters more closely, trying to divine some details about the workings of this Uni, the level of knowledge they have about the Others and exactly what the purpose of this building is. There's not much to see. Some of the posters are just pictures of beautiful painted skylines. They're gorgeous and all, but they don't really add anything of value to the place. And, in the current moment, you could really use something that gave you at least a little bit of information.
You find an elevated bump as you run your palms over the walls. This stupefied you for a moment. Quite the discovery to make! You knew what that could mean, of course. It could most definitely mean access to a doorway or some concealment of sensitive information. The thought of such possibility thrilled you. There was, of course, the possibility that it was of no consequence, that this room was simply oddly shaped and you were lead on a wild goose chase. You were not willing to think of such possibility, and you therefore moved to action.
You run your hands up and down over the elevated area to figure out the dimensions of this elevation. You find that the elevated bump is two heads higher than you are--approximately 6.5 feet off the ground. The bump ran to the floor, so it was a 6.5 ft high elevation. After tracing out the highest point on the elevation, you run the tips of your fingers sideways, attempting to figure out whether the elevation was a part of the wall (and therefore of no consequence) or a block that stood separately from the wall. You found that the elevation abruptly fell to the original thickness of the wall after what felt like 2.5 ft of running your hand along one side. It felt almost like a thicker block of wood covered by decorative paper was randomly placed in the middle of the wall. You had to admit, the cover-up was done in a deviously clever manner. The raised area would not seem odd to anyone who didn't know where to look; the elevation was very slight- slight enough to be ignored by anyone who was far too concerned with (and terrified of) the matter of being kidnapped and locked up in an odd place unfamiliar to them, even if they were standing close to the wall.
Such placement could not be simply random, of course. It could only mean one thing-- either it was a door to a hidden passageway, or it concealed a part of the wall that could be incriminating.
You immediately felt the adrenaline rushing into your body. You had discovered something of consequence-- something that might help you get out of this accursed place.
You could feel the thrill and exhilaration of success coursing through your body. You finally saw a way to get out of this hell. Finally, the terror and stress that you felt pressing on you (ever since your consciousness had been cursed to have this hell on earth embed its mark deep into your consciousness, which modified it radically and permanently) had loosened the firm grasp it had held over every fibre of your mortal being. The exhilaration of this momentary release from the fear of the unknown, the immense joy pulsating through your veins during that immediate moment before discovery, and all those joyous positive emotions were a fresh breath of new air after all that terror, weakness and stress were thrilling to feel, like feeling the soothing lukewarmth of old tea after roaming in the winter frost for a bit too long.
All those welcome feelings of elation came accompanied by an edge of anxiety. You were still not aware of what the future held for you. You were well aware of the dangers that could be caused by your very presence in this unknown Uni. You were sure this was an honest mistake; Unis like these were 'experimenting' with their little sciences without understanding exactly what they were subjecting their worlds to. An incomplete understanding of the facts always leads to violence. Violence breeds only amidst the ignorant. Ignorance is the downfall of civilization. Even though that may be true, that did not mean that all danger would be negated simply due to the madness that ignorance gives people. You still fear the intentions of the person/s that had access to devices that were able to bring a person from another Uni directly into their own Uni. You feel that lingering anxiety, having its sources in wondering what else they were capable of, what their level of knowledge pertaining to the matter of Time Studies was and what intentions, motives and purposes they had. You were far too used to the natural capability for nefariousness that was becoming of humanity as a whole, no matter which conditions they lived in.
This was no time to let your mind race or to let thoughts, doubts and emotions get in your way. Your fingers wrap around the top edge and the side closest to you of the smooth wood block. You yank at the block, expecting it to fall out. That does not work.
That negates one of my doubts which leads me to believe... I've stumbled upon a doorway!.
You let go of the top of the block. You gently pull the side of the block.
Slowly, the door creaks open.
On the other side, you can spot a sliver of light seeping in from some faraway window. Those slivers of sunlight bring along with them crashing waves, rippling with hope.
I'll get home soon.
You wake up with what feels like a terrible hangover, the dilapidated room around you is unfamiliar and you are chained to the bed, written on the ceiling is the message “If you can read this you’re human enough to use the key on the nightstand”
Yan Secret Admirer 🎀
Yan secret admirer and you went to same high school. The day he saw you he fell for you immediately and have been looking after you from afar as he is too shy to confess his feelings to you
Yan secret admirer making sure no boys come near you and if someone did next day mysteriously they just disappear
Secretly paying for yours meals, keeping gifts such as your favourite flowers, jewelery you liked, your fav snack with notes
he spends money on you like crazy as money is not a issue to him. His parents are god level rich
You knew you had a secret admirer by all this gifts and stuff you keep getting. But who is this person? you have no idea
yan secret admirer who has secret cameras installed in your room
whenever he can't see you in person from afar he just watches you through cameras
His favourite thing to do? Watch you
After you finished your college you took a job at a company
Guess what? Your company just get purchased by a global company suddenly
And now he is your ceo
If someone bullies you they get fired
Your paycheck increases every damn month why? Because the ceo thinks you are very hardworking
Even if you just come and sleep in the office still your paycheck increases because according to him no one is more hardworking in this company than you
You are the employee of the month every month. Period.
And as a gift for your hardwork for the company you get diamond, rubby, emerald jewelery or a Europe trip or a yatch trip with him as a boss - employee bonding time
Soon you figure out that the secret admirer is none other than your ceo but you can't run away from him as he reminds you of the contract you signed with the company for your job which now suddenly implies if you quit work before the time you have to pay a huge sum so you just do the damn job while ceo pampers you with everything
He even has a huge mansion get built with a huge garden, greenhouse, fountains, swimming pool, library, huge french windows just like the house ideas pins you have kept saved in your pinterest. And even got the dog you wanted and the engagement ring ready as you have always wanted. Thanks to all the pins you saved in your pinterest and the notes you have kept saved in your phone.
He is all set to ask you to marry him. And no is not a option. And even if you said no he has his security team ready for plan B which is kidnapping you and marrying.
Requests are open!
For more yandere reading:
Kidnapper Dom yandere? I have a soft spot for those!! - pet darling
This is my first time writing smut so please be kind. Requests are open!!
Yan Dom Kidnapper
• You woke up in an unknown room on an unknown bed. By the decor and how huge the room is you are sure the owner is god damn rich. Did you had a one night stand yesterday night? You tried to remember what happened to end up here but your mind came up blank.
• You heard someone enter the room and saw a handsome man who is older than you with a strong built and tall height with black hairs. Totally a daddy material you thought. Shut up and think about the situation not about the dilf you scolded yourself in mind.
• "Glad you woke up" the dilf said.
• "How did I ended up here?"
• "Well sweetheart, I kidnapped you". He said so causally like he was talking about today's weather and not that he kidnapped you.
• You got angry and lumped towards him trying to put a fight but he just grabbed your both hands in his and made you lay on bed whispering in your ear to be a good girl. Well this was not helping your situation and rather worsening your daddy issues and praise kink making you a little wet by his little weight on you.
• He tied your hands and made you sat on his lap and told you how he stalked you for months, has been obsessed with you since his eyes set upon you .
• You listened to all this quietly while trying to process how the hell did you end up in situation that you read on your Tumblr and in smut books.
• After he told you everything. His big veiny hand got under your dress holding it up and sliding your panties down his fingers started teasing your clit at a slow tortours way making you grind against his lap.
• "Stay still" he ordered. And you did.
• He pushed one finger inside your hole then another and started thursting them in a high speed curling at your g spots making you whine and moan.
•"please" you moan feeling a knot forming in your stomach, your eyes feeling heavy.
•"please what, babygirl?" He asked fingering your hole which was leaking with your juices while his other hand played with your nipple enjoying how you are begging for him.
•"please please make me cum" you whined feeling his hands all over you. He loved hearing your moans and whine enjoying how you listened his orders.
• He fastened his pace thrusting his fingers harder at your g spot while adding a third finger making you ride his hand and see stars. The thursting, his fingers filling your cunt and his hard cock which you can feel by sitting on his lap was too much for you and you came. Your cum all spread over his fingers while you are covered in sweat.
• He took out his fingers giving your clit a little squeeze and ordered you to suck his finger clean. You followed his order and sucked and licked his fingers clean from your cum.
"Good girl" he said patting your head. Maybe being kidnapped by him isn't that bad right? After all i am just a girl 🎀
Want part 2? Let me know through comments.
Requests are open!
For more yandere reading:
The wind howled through the dead evergreen trees who had lost all colour years and years ago. Everywhere was coated in a thick white layer of freezing snow, making it hard to see any details in anything. Most drones stayed inside the bunker, there was no reason to leave anyways except if something they needed was out there. Like a spare part for something, but other than that everyone stayed inside. The solver was defeated years ago and there was nothing to fear. The disassembly drones feasted on the already dead and scavenged around the area, making them have no need for killing unless necessary. But not everything was perfect..
For starters, the two drones who had saved the universe had vanished awhile back. Leaving their young daughter in the hands of her aunts, the oil supply is decreasing fast and humans may not be done dealing with the rogue AI..
Each week after week had been the same for Wren. She'd wake up, find something to wear, fix her hair, go to school, eat whatever she'd been given to fuel herself with, go home, do homework, sleep and then repeat the next day. It was the exact same people that were there since day one, nobody new. There were the same teachers, teaching the same thing every year. At least there were enough students so you weren't in the same class with the exact same people each year but even then you would know everybody already since there weren't a lot of people. Though projects were fun, getting to work on something especially if it was something you were interested in, researching and then presenting was always a highlight of the school year. Better than doing regular, boring homework.
Wren would grab her pink cat-eared headphones (which she definitely didn't steal from her mother) and connect it to her music player then she'd open up her laptop and start researching whatever topic her project was about. She would spend hours and hours on these projects and it paid off, getting her straight A's in almost every subject- well not maths though. Getting low scores, which her aunt J wasn't fond too of.
She never really knew both of her parents, they disappeared when she was about two so about fifteen years ago. According to V, she was a mama's girl. Always pestering her mum who was definitely annoyed by it. She got most of the information she knows about her parents from V. Like how she looked like her mother as well, purple hair although more lavender-y and purple eyes. Definitely a Doorman.
She lives with V in a small apartment in the bunker, J also lives there however choosing to spend most of her time outside. Fixing up the ship for whatever reason. She would occasionally visit her grandparents who still seemed wary of the disassembly drones.
She enjoyed her life but she still has so many questions like are her parents really dead? Or how about what that object in the sky that seems to come closer and closer everyday is?
She needst o find out..
Like Father, Like Daughter
A/N: Based on a prompt.
Title: Like Father, Like Daughter
Summary: Geralt should have expected his child’s first word to be ‘fuck’.
Words: 640
“Fuck!”
Geralt paused. “What?”
“Fuck!” The little girl bounced on the blanket Geralt had set her on, pointing with chubby fingers across the river. Usually, he’d ignore her senseless baby babble or simply nod along to whatever was coming from her mouth, but that had not been senseless babble. It’d been a word.
He’d been somewhat attempting to gain a word or two from her for a few weeks now, each attempt a valiant failure, considering she seemed to prefer her ‘ga’s and ‘goo’s. It’d been an irritating process, but he’d been told—by who, he couldn’t remember. Probably Vesemir—that babies didn’t start speaking until they reached at least ten months. He would never be sure of course, but Akela couldn’t have been more than a new-born when he’d found her in the woods, making her eight months old now. She couldn’t even walk yet.
But she’d just spoken.
A corner of his lips began to curl upwards, until it froze, and his eyes widened as he realised what she’d just spoken.
He craned his neck to look where she was pointing. He breathed a nervous chuckle. “Duck, Akela,” he corrected, making his way towards her. “That’s a duck.”
“Fuck!”
“Duck.”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
He sighed and lowered himself beside her, balancing on the toes of his boots. Honestly, he wasn’t surprised that had been her first word. It was his first word every time something went wrong, or Akela decided to use her newfound crawling abilities to hide from him after he’d turned around for a second. He didn’t really care either, but he knew he’d get more looks than he’d prefer when around other people if the baby was constantly cursing.
Akela stopped bouncing long enough for him to gently grasp her shoulders. She blinked at him with those bright blue eyes, pouty lips parted. “Don’t say that,” he said slowly, letting her absorb each word. “It’s ‘duck’. With a ‘d’. Duck.”
She stared, clearly processing, before giving him a two-toothed smile and bouncing again. “Fuck!”
Geralt hummed and swung her up into his arms. He trudged towards the riverbank. “Duck,” he said firmly, pointing at the mallard floating in the middle of the water. He looked back at the baby, not an ounce of confusion on her face. Instead, she stared at the duck for a good few seconds and turned back to Geralt with yet another goofy grin.
“Fuck!” she decided.
“No. Duck.”
“Fuck!”
“Duck, Akela! It’s a fucking duck!”
In the eight months since he’d found the little girl, he had learnt many things. A big one was that raising his voice, even a small bit, would make her cry. It started with a trembling lip, then her big eyes began to well with tears, then she’d start sobbing, and he’d feel guilty. He’d never known guilt before Akela.
What was worse, though, was that her sobs rarely went into full blown fits. That was reserved for when she was hungry, in pain, or merely in a temper. When she was upset because of something he’d done, she stuck with her tiny hiccups and quiet sniffles, turning her face into his shoulder if her pitiful struggles to be put down didn’t achieve anything.
Geralt sighed and shook his head, the first bite of that familiar guilt prickling his skin. He stared out across the river and turned, walking to the blanket. He sat down, Akela on his lap, and pat her tiny heaving back. “You can say it if you want,” he relented. “Say it, ‘Kela.” Akela lifted her head, cheeks wet with tears, and Geralt smoothed her blonde hair back. He pointed out across the river again. “What is it?”
She followed his finger and chewed on her own. She hesitated. “Fuck…”
Geralt smiled a little painfully. “Right.”
“Fuck!”
Like father, like daughter.
Witcher Masterpost
A sneak peek of an introductory OC fic!
Cradling The Carnal
(angst + fluff?)
Another night in the Euphoria province, where many dance and party their hearts out with no exceptions (except the strict ban of alcohol), where music blasts and echoes through the province every hour of the day, it was another casual night in the Euphoria Province of Arcadia, and the one of the two royals of the province just finished their partying for the week, mindlessly forgetting about something very important.
Deimos was resting in bed as the TV illuminated the room dimly, a marathon of a show played as she laid on her side scrolling on her phone before feeling the mattress tilt ever-so-slightly from a foreign weight before hearing the shuffling of fabric, then two arms wrapped around her waist and a nose burrowing into her neck. “Hey Amora,” Deimos smiled, feeling Amora bury her face into Deimos’ hair before starting to purr, her tail swaying under the blanket. “Long party?” Deimos simply asked, with Amora nodding, still purring before she started to lick Deimos’ hair; grooming her hair. “Amora..” Deimos sighed, putting her phone down feeling Amora lick at her hair, knowing it would get unnecessarily fluffy hours later, but Amora continued- and Deimos wasn’t going to stop her.
But then, Deimos felt something else graze the back of her head- it wasn’t Amora’s face, or her hair, but something that combed through Deimos’ hair; something stick-like and rounded at best, and there were two of them on Amora’s head, as Deimos assumed due to Amora (obviously) being behind her. “Amora, are you combing my hair?” Deimos asked before Amora answered, “No, baby.” She replied as she continued to…”slobber” Deimos’ hair, as it was often Amora’s love language and/or stress reliever, especially when it came along with nighttime cuddles, as Amora preferred to cuddle at night, liking the dark ambiance and the way the TV lighted the whole room just right; not too bright and not too dark- just right.
“Then what is rubbing against the back of my head?” Deimos asked, before Amora stopped grooming Deimos’ hair, not saying a single word. “…Amora?” Deimos called softly, before feeling Amora slowly slither under the blanket, making Deimos roll over to see two horns peeking out from the blanket. Seeing the little “pokey things” prod from the blanket, Deimos yanked the blanket away to see her girlfriend in a more demonic form- with large wings with a great wingspan retracted to her back , nearly recognizing the form as Amora stared back up at her wide-eyed, fearful that Deimos my run away out of fear, before softening to a solemn look. “Deimos…” Amora murmured, her heart pained thinking that one she loved, clung onto, and bonded with her, would leave for a secret she now revealed.
“Amora-“ Deimos tried to soothe her lover, before she interrupted, seeing and hearing how Amora’s face and tone changed all so suddenly, as if she dealt with this before.
“Deimos, please listen-“ Amora pleaded,
“…what is it, Amor?”
It took a bit, but in Amora’s mind, it was a decision. A decision that could break her relationship, not to mention the shift in emotion. But she had to tell Deimos. Deimos knew her so well, but she didn’t know everything about Amora, and it was for a reason she never said.
“…I’m part succubus, Deimos.” Amora confessed in a whisper, tearing up with fear as she waited for Deimos to look at her with disgust or disappointment, or to just leave her entirely. But Deimos wasn’t disgusted, she wasn’t disappointed, she didn’t even want to leave, but she was surprised- with interest and sincerity.
“Amora,” Deimos said in a soft, comforting tone, cupping the part-succubus’ cheek, her thumb wiping her tears away. “Why are you so scared?” Deimos asked, her ears lowered in confusion- yes, she was surprised that her own girlfriend was part succubus, but she didn’t know why Amora was suddenly scared shitless about telling her something like this.
Amora, on the other hand, was shocked, stunned even- if those even have the same meaning. Why wasn’t Deimos disgusted? Why wasn’t she scared? Was she just hiding her true feelings? Amora’s mind went beserk, confused about why Deimos didn’t react as strongly as Amora expected- so she just stared for a moment before responding with a “huh?”
“Why are you so scared? Deimos repeated, concern now more evident in her tone as she kept her hand on Amora’s cheek, her eyes soft with caring, while Amora’s eyes were wide dumbfounded. She didn’t really know how to respond, but it was like her mind was prepared for something like this, like a protocol. “..I..don’t really know.” Amora mumbled, confusion now stirring in her mind as she tried to think why, nearly forgetting how Deimos didn’t say anything about the confession. “You don’t know?” Deimos said, subtly baffled at Amora’s words as she nodded. “I just thought you would…uhm..” Amora hesitated, she didn’t want to say it, she didn’t want to get possibly scolded about her fearful assumptions.
“What?” Deimos asked, confused. “…that you would be mad at me.” Amora admitted lowly with a bit of guilt in her words. “Why would I get mad at you?” Deimos confused asked. “Because I didn’t tell you!” Amora explained. “Why would I be mad at you if you didn’t tell me?” Deimos said, more befuddled. “Because I tell you everything!” Amora exclaimed, more guilt bubbling up in her stomach before Deimos somehow pulled Amora into a hug, her arms wrapping around Amora’s body over her unopened wings and gave her a warm, accepting, and assuring hug.
“I would never be mad at you if you didn’t tell me, just because you tell me everything about you doesn’t mean you have to tell me everything, you have the choice to keep stuff to yourself, it’s your choice, Amora.” Deimos emphasized, as Amora just listened, her eyes wide as Deimos gently explained to her, before she nuzzled against Deimos’ shoulder as one of her wings slipped from Deimos’ hug and curled over her; hugging Deimos with her wing. Both emitting a comforting, loving warmth to provide for the other, with one who revealed her true colors suddenly, and the other who didn’t care about who they are, but they still cuddled up to each other. Deimos they whispered into Amora’s ear, “Amora, I promise you, I don’t care if you’re some murderous beast or a witch, I’ll still love you.” She assured lovingly before pressed a kiss to Amora’s forehead as she cradled her; cradling the not-so-carnal.